The Shadow of War, Jack Murray [story books for 5 year olds TXT] 📗
- Author: Jack Murray
Book online «The Shadow of War, Jack Murray [story books for 5 year olds TXT] 📗». Author Jack Murray
Theysat down and Danny poured the contents of his bag out onto the grass. Neitherboy said much but the grin on their faces was pure and grateful as they gazedupon their ill-gotten bounty.
‘Anytrouble at McIver’s?’ asked Alec.
Dannynodded.
‘Bert?’asked Bob.
‘Bert,’confirmed Danny.
Aleclooked serious for a moment and they voiced what was on everyone’s mind, ‘Weshould avoid McIver’s maybe for a while.’
Forthe next half hour, the conversation, such as it was, took second place to thegrub. Bob had brought a veritable feast and feast they did. He liked his foodand food liked him. When the last drop of milk was drunk and the last appledemolished, the boys lay on their backs and stared up at the cerulean sky,broken only by a solitary puffy white cloud floating, almost in embarrassment,looking for some companions.
‘Whatshall we do next?’ asked Danny.
‘Swim?’suggested Bob.
Thiswas greeted with a biff over the head with Danny’s empty canvas bag.
‘Imeant who will we do tomorrow?’
‘Whydidn’t you say?’ complained Bob, but not angrily.
Theydiscussed potential targets for the morrow. Each farm had advantages anddisadvantages. Dogs were a no go. Farm boys less of an issue. The three boyshad developed a set of ruses that could distract anyone likely to interferewith the commission of their crimes. The discussion lasted around an hourbefore the boys felt ready to amble down to the pond for a swim.
Predictably,Bob charged forward first, stripping off as he ran and taking a running leaponto the rope swing before completing his splash into the water with a poorlyexecuted somersault. His ample frame caused a deluge of water and the two otherboys laughed hysterically.
‘Bellyflop,’ shouted his friends in unison.
‘Let’ssee how you do it, then,’ replied Bob, brightly, as he surfaced in the pool.
Asthey splashed around in the water, they heard an aeroplane overhead. Theystopped for a few moments. It was flying low, in the direction of the Hall. Fora few seconds it coughed and spluttered before the engine kicked in again.
‘He’smad,’ said Danny.
‘Hislordship?’ asked Bob.
‘Whodo you think?’ laughed Danny. ‘Wouldn’t catch me up there in one of thosethings.’
‘Idon’t know,’ said Alec. ‘I’d love to try.’
‘Maybeyou will one day,’ said Bob not meaning it.
Alittle later, when they had dried off, they began wrestling each other. DespiteBob’s weight, Danny always had the better of him and Alec, courtesy of aspecial throw he learned from his father. He deployed it just as his opponentseemed to be gaining an advantage. One moment they would have Danny at theirmercy then, seconds later, they would be lying on the ground. He claimed his father had learned it during the War. Generously, hehad shown his friends what to do, but they had not racked up the yearsof practice Danny had enjoyed with his brother. They were grateful, however,and never begrudged his ability.
Suchwas the life of a country boy between school and work. They thought days likethese would last forever.
Butday eventually gives way to the darkness of night.
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Theday was definitely lasting longer now. It seemed only a few weeks ago that thevillage was in darkness by five save for the lights in the windows. Dannytrooped home with the sun on his back. It was a bit cooler now. His shadowseemed to stretch from his feet all the way to the front door of his cottage.To the right of the cottage was the shed which doubled as the forge. He couldsee his brother, Tom, bathed in the orange of the fire. There were blue shadowsaround his eyes and torso. His face was stained with dirt and tears of sweat.He turned to Danny, nodded, and then went back to the forge.
Tomwas older than Danny by four years. He had been working as a smithy for a yearnow. He was much taller than Danny and the few years wielding a hammer had seenhis frame fill out. Danny looked at his brother’s shoulder muscles withsomething approaching awe. If he was not as strong as their father, it was gettingcloser. The muscles flexed as he lifted a piece of heavy iron out of the fire. Afterpausing a few moments, Danny continued on his way into the cottage.
Hewalked through the door and shouted, ‘I’m home.’ Moments later he felt astinging blow behind his ear. He collapsed to the floor, his head ringing likea bell on Sunday morning.
‘Oy,’he exclaimed. ‘What was that for?’
Hisdad stood over him glowering.
‘Formissing school again. Mrs Grout came by. You’ll be there tomorrow, boy, or I’llhave your life.’ This was no idle threat. The look in his father’s eyes brookedno debate. This was the first time she had complained. They were getting toococky now. Oh well, he thought. They’d had a good run.
Thewireless was on in the background. Danny could hear Al Bowlly singing. None ofhis friends had heard of him but Danny loved his voice. It caressed the wordsof a song and brought them gently to life whether it was playful, sentimentalor melancholic.
Heforgot about the ringing in his ears.
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‘Niceto have Mr Shaw, Mr Owen and Mr Leddings back with us today,’ announced MrsGrout to the classroom.
Danny,Bob and Alec looked around sheepishly as the classroom turned as one towardsthem. Alec scowled at one boy immediately ahead, but nothing could be done.Their humiliation was complete. Retribution would come to those who mocked them.This was for later, for now they could only sit and accept their fate. Thankfully,the class seemed to be mostly disinterested. Mostly. Danny didn’t need to lookto the other side of the room to see three smiling faces.
Thevillage school, if a converted barn can be so described, consisted of twoclasses separated by a canvas partition. On one side were the ‘little ‘uns’taught by Miss Jarvis. On the other side sat Danny and his pals. They were the‘big ‘uns’. The bigger children were taught by the fearsome Mrs Grout.
MrsGrout occupied an indeterminate
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