Page 42 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘Is there something wrong with that?’ Mary asked.
‘Have you looked at Instagram lately?’
‘Mungo, I barely have time to talk to my husband, let alone spend hours on social media.’
‘Well, you might want to rethink that.’
‘Why?’
‘Have a look at @thetravellinggrandad.’
‘Hang on…’ Mary said, and, turning her phone to loudspeaker, opened the Instagram app. ‘The… travelling… grandad.’ Mary typed.
As the page appeared, Mary hadn’t a clue what she was supposed to be looking at. She flicked through photos of Atticus with flamingos and a giant hoarding of ablack bull. But as Mary stared at a group of colourful, suntanned people, she could see them having a high old time at a barbecue. A woman with vibrant orange hair piled into a top knot and wearing a lime-green kaftan had her arms around her father, who was wearing the cowboy hat she’d gifted him. On the other side of them, a tattooed lady, covered in piercings, was linking Atticus’s arm.
Mary began to laugh, her eyes wide as she saw Ness sitting on a fold-up chair with a massive sausage in her mouth. Another image showed her father in a conga line, dancing along a lantern-lit pathway.
‘You think it’s funny?’ Mungo asked.
‘Is it really our dad?’ Mary asked, stifling another giggle.
‘Oh, there’s more. Keep going, turn to the video feed.’
Mary pressed play, and to the background music from several ukuleles, a guitar, and a drum, Atticus took centre stage as he duettedIslands in the Streamwith the orange-haired woman. He held a glass of sangria in his hand and, to cheers, downed the drink in one as the song ended.
‘I think it’s absolutely wonderful,’ Mary laughed. ‘He’s finally come out of his comfort zone and is enjoying himself.’
She continued to scroll through images of a brightly coloured awning and a tall, athletic man, wearing a huge gold watch which dazzled against his dark skin, smiling as he posed with Atticus in a selfie beside Winnie. Her Dad was clearly making new friends, but somewhat faster than she’d ever imagined.
‘But he’s seventy years old, in a strange place withpeople who might take advantage!’ Mungo’s voice was raised, and Mary sighed, knowing she was in for an argument.
‘Did you know that he has over six thousand followers, all of the boomer generation, from all over the world? And the numbers seem to be increasing,’ Mungo droned on.
Mary did indeed know now and was fascinated by the hundreds of comments Atticus was receiving.Fancy that!Her dad was going viral – just wait until she told Maeve!
‘Well, that has to be a good thing, right?’ Mary was puzzled.
‘I hardly think it will do the family business any good if people see the head of it drunk as a skunk, on a permanent bender with a crowd who look as though they’re performing in a circus.’
Mary sighed. What was wrong with her brother, and when had he become such an old man? She thought of their mother and her infamous words:Don’t let the old man in. Mungo had let the old man in long before his time, but in Spain, Atticus seemed hell-bent on letting the old man out!
‘Listen to me, Mungo. Will you just get over yourself?’ Mary said. ‘Dad is clearly enjoying himself. Can’t you be pleased that he’s having a great holiday?’
‘I knew you’d stick up for him.’
‘Yes, I damn well will. And for Jake.’ Mary felt cross now. ‘I hear you’ve grounded him, and for the life of me, I cannot see why.’
‘Because he went behind my back.’
‘Oh, stop it!’ Mary’s tone was sharp. ‘Jake was helping his grandad. He knew Atticus was going on this journey, with or without anyone’s approval, and had the good sense and kindness to do everything he could to ensure that his grandad was safe.’
‘He should have told me!’
‘What? And have you do everything you could to put an end to it? I don’t think so,’ Mary sighed. ‘You can be very controlling sometimes.’
She thought of the farm and how much Atticus had wanted to continue with his sheep, but she knew that Mungo had talked their dad out of it. Undoubtedly, it had been for the best, but she remembered how heartbroken Atticus had been when the last of the Herdwick herd was sold.
‘Well, I can see that it’s a waste of time talking to you,’ Mungo said. ‘But all I can say is that I refuse to take any responsibility when Dad drops down dead.’
