Page 21 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘But that’s not fair!’ Eliza yelled, banging her spoon on the table.
As Mungo held firm, Atticus ate silently. There was no appropriate pause in the conversation for him to announce his news, and it was with relief that he finished his meal and could hurry out of the kitchen to return to his cottage.
A little while later, as Atticus relaxed in his armchair with Ness beside him, his mobile rang. He stared at the device before sliding his finger across the screen to answer, just as Jake had shown him.
‘You bottled it!’ Jake whispered as Attius held the phone to his ear.
‘I’ll tell him later.’
‘Well, I won’t be around. I’m playing football for the village tonight in a friendly.’
Jake sounded grumpy, and Atticus wondered if the lad had been looking forward to the family confrontation. They both knew that fish would climb trees before Mungo approved of his father setting off to Spain in a forty-year-old vehicle.
‘I’ll call you when I get to Portsmouth tomorrow morning,’ Atticus said. ‘Now, get your homework done and make sure you win your match tonight.’
Atticus knew he needed to speak to Mungo, but, unsure of the best time to take his son aside and tell him of the journey he was about to embark upon, he dithered. The longer he took, the less inclined he felt to break the news. Wouldn’t it be better to let Mungo know when he was well on his way, ensuring there was no possibility of being talked out of his decision? He needed advice from an adult, and, reaching for his mobile again, Atticus decided to call his best friend.
Arthur would know what to do.
‘Are you absolutely sure I’m doing the right thing?’ Atticus asked as he sat behind Winnie’s wheel in the early hours of the morning, under the cloak of darkness, staring at Arthur.
Sitting alongside Atticus, dressed in a woolly bob hat and a fleecy dressing gown, Arthur wore cycle clips over his pyjama bottoms, which gripped the flannel fabric around his spindly legs.
‘Absolutely,’ Arthur said firmly. ‘But Mungo will string you up if he finds out that you’re off galivanting for the first time abroad, on your own at your time of life, in this old camper. He won’t think it safe.’
With Ness sitting upright between them, Arthur had his arm around the Collie dog.
‘I’m not so sure I am doing the right thing. Perhaps I should have told him,’ Atticus said as he inched Winnie out of the barn.
Moonlight peeked beyond the night cloud and an eerie glow illuminated the camper’s bright paintwork. Awakened from the confines of years in the barn, Winnie’s newly rebuilt engine, precisely tuned, purred perfectly.
Atticus drove slowly across the yard. As he passed the farmhouse, both men simultaneously lowered their heads, hoping their crouched position would shield them. Conscious that any engine noise might alert the sleeping family, both held their breath.
With each passing second, Atticus felt like a phantom on the run.
Suddenly, a figure leapt out and threw itself into the headlights. Atticus slammed on the brakes, and as the front-seat trio plunged forward, Arthur’s bob hat slipped over his eyes. Arthur gripped the dashboard and shouted, ‘What the hell?’
Atticus blew out his breath. ‘It’s only Jake, don’t panic.’ Winding down the driver’s window, Atticus hissed, ‘What on earth are you playing at? I could have killed you.’
‘I wanted to say goodbye and give you this,’ Jake replied,thrusting out a plastic figure.
‘What is it?’ Atticus asked, puzzled, as he took the eight-inch object and tilted it towards the light.
‘It’s a lucky travelling gnome, symbolising an intrepid spirit and a determination to discover the unknown.’
Arthur, who appeared from under the brim of his bob hat, perched his spectacles on his nose. ‘It looks like something the dog might chew,’ he said. ‘You won’t see many of those in Spain.’
Ness jabbed her nose at the gnome’s chubby cheeks and long white beard. She sniffed its patched-up jacket and scuffed leather boots. The gnome’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief as it held up a walking stick adorned with ribbons and a flag that read, ‘Adventure Awaits’.
‘Aye, well, that’s very kind, but there’ll be no adventure if I don’t get going,’ Atticus said, tucking the gnome into his pocket. Time was ticking on.
‘I wish I was coming with you, Grandad,’ Jake said. His face was beginning to crumple, and Atticus could tell his grandson might burst into tears at any moment.
‘There’ll be another adventure with your name on it,’ he said softly. ‘But for now, get your schooling under your belt and keep out of trouble.’
‘Send me lots of photos.’
‘Aye, you can rest assured I’ll use that fancy phone.’ Atticus reached out and ruffled Jake’s thick, dark hair. ‘Now be a good lad and get back to bed.’
