Page 22 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘I love you,’ Jake said, and with sluggish feet, he backed away from Winnie.
‘And I love you too,’ Atticus replied, feeling a lump in his throat as he waved and watched Jake’s figurerecede. Still mindful of waking Mungo, he slowly drove Winnie out of the driveway, across the main road, and through the village.
‘You can drop me off anywhere,’ Arthur said as his smallholding came into view. Tucked neatly in fields adjoining the village and named by Shirley when they married, Shirlarth Cottage had been their home for more than forty years.
‘I’ll take you to your door,’ Atticus replied as Winnie cruised along.
‘And wake Shirley?’ Arthur’s eyes widened. The gate to his home was open, and a long driveway lay ahead. ‘And what do you think she’ll say when I tell her that I crept out like a thief in the night to cycle to Barn Hill Farm to say goodbye to my foolish old mate, who hasn’t the balls to tell his family he’s leaving?’
Arthur’s eyes scanned the entrance for signs of a raging wife, but the only eyes that stared back were from Shirley’s collection of garden gnomes. The whimsical little guardians of the flowerbeds had pointy hats and cheery smiles, and Shirley’s sentinels of suburban life scared the life out of Arthur, who was sure they came to life when no one was looking.
‘Well, when you put it like that…’ Atticus agreed.
Moments later, he helped Arthur lift his cycle from Winnie’s interior. The friends shook hands as they stood in the moonlight on damp grass.
‘Thanks. F…for all your help in planning this adventure and seeing me off to say goodbye,’ Atticus muttered, his voice cracking with emotion.
‘Aw, getaway. I wish I was coming with you.’ Arthur stared down at his hands. ‘Keep in touch, and make sure you put away some memories in your memory bank for the days when you no longer can,’ he said.
‘Aye, my old mate, you can be sure.’
They shook hands again, then Arthur reached for his bike.
‘I’ll have to go, my slippers are getting wet,’ he said, and with a wobble and a wave, he gripped the handlebars.
‘Farewell for now,’ Atticus whispered as Arthur disappeared into the darkness. ‘Till we meet again.’
Chapter Nine
Atticus and Ness enjoyed a smooth and trouble-free journey as they headed south. Cruising down the almost empty motorway, Winnie felt like an old friend he hadn’t seen in years, reunited on a new adventure. He thought about the excellent work Jake had done assisting with the engine’s refurbishment.
Under a twinkling canvas of stars, Atticus relished the solitude. He was escaping from the hustle and bustle of folk coming and going at Barn Hill Farm, and as the night wore on it felt strangely good.
They stopped for a comfort break. Pulling on her lead, Ness had her nose to the ground and her tail wagged with excitement as she discovered a playground of new scents in the service area. Inside the camper, Atticus searched through the well-stocked cupboards for biscuits and taking a flask, poured piping hot coffee. Sitting comfortably on the sofa, he looked around. The interior light cast a comfortingglow over the retro upholstery and wooden panelling, and he realised that the space was extremely cosy.
‘What do you think, eh, Clara?’ Atticus smiled and turned to Ness. ‘We’re going to enjoy this trip. Winnie will do us nicely.’
Draining his coffee and tossing a dog biscuit to Ness, Atticus carefully stored his items away, then returned to sit in the driver’s seat with Ness strapped in alongside. He found Jake’s gnome in his pocket and, with a smile, fixed it on the dashboard beside the satnav that Jake had insisted be installed.
‘What shall we call him?’ Atticus asked Ness as the dog sniffed the travelling gnome. ‘How about Gonzalo the Globetrotter?’
Ness eyed Atticus, and with a nod, he confirmed the name. ‘Gonzalo it is,’ he said.
He tapped the dashboard compartment where the old wooden needle box was securely placed, and smiled, knowing that his wife’s remaining ashes were accompanying him on his adventure, and Clara would be smiling too.
Glancing occasionally at the satnav and listening carefully to the spoken instructions, Atticus gripped the steering wheel as the road stretched ahead like a long, dark ribbon, and the miles slipped away beneath Winnie’s wheels.
Leaving the motorway to arrive in Portsmouth with hours to spare before boarding the ferry, he drove along the seafront and parked the camper with a viewoverlooking the Solent. A roadside café lay ahead, and Atticus ordered two bacon rolls and a sausage for Ness.
‘This is life,’ Atticus sighed as he wound down the window. ‘Smell the sea, Ness. We’ll soon be sailing on the ocean.’
Having scoffed her sausage, Ness placed her head on Atticus’s knee and began to thump her tail, sensing excitement in the salty air. As the sun began its slow ascent in the channel ahead, a massive ferry boat emerged from mist-shrouded waters. Its sleek hull sliced through the gentle waves, leaving a frothy wake in its path.
‘That’ll be us in a few hours,’ Atticus said, lost in his thoughts as he gazed out to sea.
Piercing through the silence like a gunshot, the shrill ringtone of Atticus’s phone shattered his calm. Jerking upright, he removed the phone from his pocket and saw Mungo’s name on the screen.
He took a deep breath and nodded to Ness. ‘Here goes…’ Atticus said and poked the screen with a suspicious finger. It was a FaceTime call, and he tried to remember Jake’s instructions.
