The Secret of Smugglers Cove

Nadine Jackson-Croker

Description

The end of the school year had come at last. The teachers, breathing a grateful sigh of thanks, had almost completed the tidying up, and were getting ready to the leave, having already dismissed their charges into the care of their loving parents. Only one child remained. A small sturdy little chap, with deep brown eyes, and sandy coloured hair stood, feet apart, head back as he regarded the tall man in front of him.

Sujets

• Science Fiction
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris UK
• Date de parution: 16 mai 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781664118973
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Secret of Smugglers Cove







Nadine Jackson-Croker



Copyright © 2023 by Nadine Jackson-Croker.

ISBN:
Softcover
978-1-6641-1898-0
eBook
978-1-6641-1897-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.




Rev. date: 05/12/2023





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CONTENTS
Summer Holidays Begins
A Scare, A Story, And A Swm
Surprises And Smugglers
A Heat Wave And A Strom.
Uncle Bernie And A Sailing Yacht
Mr Christie And Joey
The Good, The Bad And The Wonderful



SUMMER HOLIDAYS BEGINS
The teachers at Tenably primary school breathed a grateful sigh of thanks. They had almost completed the tidying up and were getting ready to leave, having already dismissed their charges into the loving care loving of their parents, for the start of the long awaited summer holidays. Only one child remained. A small, sturdy little chap, with deep-brown eyes, and sandy-coloured hair stood feet apart, and head back as he regarded the tall man in front of him.
“Well, Joey, no home to go to?” asked Mr Straker.
Joey shook his head. “Jake said to wait,” he replied.
“Oh, I see,” answered the headmaster. “Why was that? Did he tell you?
Joey nodded. “’Cause of his zams,” he explained.
“His exams?”
Joey nodded again, glad to have made the point quite clear.
“Said he might get late.”
Mr Straker crouched down in front of the little boy. “What do you suppose we should do while we wait?” he asked.
Joey stretched open his eyes and thought for a moment.
“Look,” he said, as if struck by an excellent idea.
“I got new boots.” He held one foot out in front of him to show off the very new, red-shiny boots he had refused to take off—even though his teacher, Miss Drake, had suggested that they were, perhaps, not quite the most appropriate footwear for school.
Mr Straker knew his duty. He had many years’ experience of conversations with small children.
“Yes, Joey,” he said with a smile. “They are very smart indeed. But that doesn’t help with getting you home. Won’t your Gran worry if you don’t arrive home soon?”
“No, silly,” came Joey’s reply, with a gallant disrespect for the head’s exalted position. “’Cause Jake telled her afore.”
Mr Straker was just about to suggest that perhaps a telephone call might solve the problem when Jake came puffing through the gate, rather out of breath from running all the way from the bus stop.
“Hello, sir,” he gasped. He came to a halt beside the pair.
“Sorry I’m so late.”
“No need to explain,” Mr Straker answered with a definite hint of laughter in his voice. “I understand it was exams held you up.”
Jake felt a warm flush creep up his cheeks.
“Well, not exactly, sir. I had to wait for the results to find out if I am to be put into the top group, you see.”
Mr Straker smiled at the boy, who looked the spitting image of his father. “And? How did you do?”
Jake grinned. “I passed, sir. Top, sir.”
“Very well done, Jake.”
“Thank you, sir. I’d better get Joey home now.”
The headmaster hesitated for just a moment, and then he said,
“Yes. Of course. Just tell your mother she isn’t the only person who is proud of you. You deserve it, Jake. Well done. Now off you go, and take this little rascal with you.”
Jake grabbed Joey’s little hand. “Come on,” he said. Then he made for home, but not before he turned and waved goodbye to his former headmaster.
He took a firm hold of Joey and walked briskly across the playground. As they reached the gate, the furry head of a rather scruffy, bright-eyed, middle-sized dog pushed forward, eager to get to his young master.
“Hello, Bailey,” called Joey. Bailey, delighted at seeing the boys, and realising his charges had not vanished forever, danced happily by their side as they trudged along the road and up the hill towards their home.
They lived in what had once been a longhouse, but it had been converted into a charming five-bedroomed bungalow, with a spare room in the loft. This was divided to create a storage space, as well as an extra bedroom when needed. The house stood alone, almost atop a three-tiered terrace. Beside the house was a driveway leading to a road which ended on the moor.
On the level below was a wooden structure that housed four stables, a hayloft, and a tack room. It was secured by one solid door set on a steel runner, so it was easy for even four-year-old Joey to open. A steel bar could be slid into place on the outside and then bolted so that in stormy or winter weather the ponies could be kept warm and safe.
On the outside of the stables the muck heap was kept under control in a concrete bunker divided into three parts, a good third of which provided the compost which was used for the vegetable patch occupying part of the three-and-a-half-acre field that stretched away beyond the stables on the next level down.
Besides the vegetable patch, a sizeable enclosure housed some two dozen hens, providing the family with plenty of eggs for their table and more to sell to neighbours. There were clumps of trees in the field, which gave shade for the ponies in summer. Some of these were fruit trees. There were apple and pear trees and a couple of plum trees, whose fruit could also be sold in the summer months. Running through the field, a little shallow stream made its busy way down the hill and under the road, then over the very wide verge on the other side, where it fell down some two feet onto the beach below, on its way to the sea beyond.
By the time the boys had made it up the hill to the cosy kitchen, Gran had their tea on the table. Their two sisters were already seated and were watching as Gran carefully lifted an appetising chicken pie out of the oven.
“Oh, so you’ve decided to come home then, have you?” she said, while carefully placing the pie on the table.
“Why are you so late? Now, take off those shoes, wash your hands, and get yourselves sat down.”
Joey, refusing to remove the shiny red boots, climbed onto his chair and said, as one who was both wise and knowledgeable,
“Zams, see. It was ’cause of the zams.”
Gran looked puzzled. She was a short, slightly plump woman in her late fifties, with brown hair which she wore in a knot tied at the back of her head. She had a kind face, with smiling hazel-coloured eyes, rosy cheeks, and a generous mouth. As she seated herself at the head of the table, she looked enquiringly at Jake for a translation.
“I had to stay behind for the results of the end-of-year exams. To see if I was to go up into the top group next year,” he explained.
Gran gave him a look indicating all was made clear. “And?” she enquired. Jenny, the elder of Jake’s two sisters, leaned over.
“Did you get it, did you?”
Jake laughed. “Yes,” he answered.
“I came top out of everyone. I’ll be in Mr Telford’s class in September and in the top group.”
For a second all was silence, but only for a second, and then the room erupted, as both of the girls and Gran congratulated him all at once. Joey, not really understanding, decided it was a good thing to do, and added his shouts of glee to the rest. It took a little while for Gran to get the children quieted down sufficiently to allow them to eat their tea in some sort of order.
“Wait till mum hears,” said Jenny. “She will be so pleased.”
Jake was the eldest of four children. At almost twelve years of age, he looked remarkably like his father. He had almost black hair, dark-brown eyes, a straight, chiselled nose, and a beautifully shaped mouth. He was of average height for his age and took his responsibility of being the oldest very seriously.
Next in line was Jenny, who was just turned ten. Unlike her brother, she had light-brown plaits, but still the dark-brown eyes so like Jake’s. She was almost as tall as her brother and wanted to be a mountain climber when she grew up. Although she wasn’t really sure what that entailed, she had read a book that made it sound very heroic.
Next came Judy. She was seven. She, too, had taken her father’s colouring, except that her eyes were almost the exact same hazel colour as Gran’s. Like both her older siblings, she was very skinny. Not because they were underfed, far from it, but just because they were built that way.
Joey, who was to be five in September, was the only one of the four who took after their mother. Her name was Katie Stuckey. She was thirty-four years old and had been widowed now for three and a half years. Her husband had been in the royal marines but had perished with honours whilst saving the lives of some civilians in Afghanistan, when Joey was only a few weeks old. Although Katie did receive a pension, with four lively children to feed and clothe, she still needed to go out to work. She worked for the local firm of