Author Topic: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write  (Read 29745 times)

Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #105 on: April 03, 2012, 07:46:15 PM »
Councillor Earnshaw was in an extremely bad mood that morning. First of all there had been a call from the Leeds police. Apparently that lorry driver called Jeff Bromley had come out of his coma and had told them about the delivery of hardcore. Well, there was nothing illegal in that, but the police said they wanted to check. He told the inspector he'd drop by later. He knew Inspector Garnett from the golf club: he asked his secretary Sandra to get a bottle of Scotch at the off-licence at lunch time, and he'd take it round in the afternoon.

Just then his phone rang again. Sandra only heard his half of the conversation.

"What's that? Department of the Environment?"

"What d'you mean? Scheduled Ancient Monument?"

"You can't stop me building on my own land!"

"Well in that case I think I'll have to speak to the Minister himself!"

Sandra looked by speechlessly as a purple-faced Earnshaw flung down the receiver.

"Now, Sandra, perhaps you could get on with typing up those letters. And there's no need for you to get that whisky for me - I'm going to go out and get it myself!"

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Offline loopylin

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #106 on: April 05, 2012, 12:10:13 AM »
Pippa Lockyer was formally identified from her dental records. Her sister was told that there was no point in viewing the remains as she was not recogniseable and the sight was enough to make even the pathologist uncomfortable. The evidence supplied by the gypsy suggested that she had been tied up and probably already dead when the explosion occurred. There was to be an inquest and Barbara was told that her sister's remains could not be released until the result was known which could take months as the person who had started the fire and was probably responsible for her sister's death had yet to be apprehended. The name Aaron Friedrickson meant nothing to her but she knew that Pippa's man friend went by the name of Rocco. A few days after her visit to the police station Barbara received a phone call from a man who said he was acting on behalf of Julius Sullivan who had been distressed to hear of Pippa's death and would like to contribute to the cost of her funeral. He also had some personal possessions that she might like to have and asked could he bring them to her. Barbara agreed to see him the next day and telephoned the police as soon as she put the phone down. When Eli Jacobson arrived the next day two police officers had stationed themselves in Barbara's kitchen. He declined her offer of tea and handed her an envelope containg cash, later revealed to be £1000 , a large suitcase which he said contained clothes and two carrier bags with shoes,handbags jewellery and a musical box. He handed her a card with his office address and raised his hat as if to depart. At that moment the two policemen came out and detained him. They had seen him before when he had been called in to represent clients so they knew he was who he said he was.'How did you come by these items sir?' asked Hutchinson. 
'A man delivered them to my office.'
'Was it Julius Sullivan?'
'He didn't give a name but I have met Sullivan a few years ago and I'm sure this man wasn't him. I have a letter here with the address of this lady and his instructions.' He handed it to Hutchinson. It was typed including the name at the bottom.
'May I keep this sir?'
'Yes- I don't need it any more. I have carried out the instructions.'
'What about the bill for your services?'
'Paid-in cash'
'Can you describe the man?'
Well he was wearing a dark raincoat and a trilby hat. I casn't tell you what colour his hair or eyes were as the hat hid those but he did have a small moustache and a goatee beard-they were dark. He was about my height.'
'Did he have a regional accent?'
'He spoke like a cockney but it didn't sound authentic.'
'Expert are you sir?'
'I have had dealings with many criminals in my time. Sometimes they try speaking in accents not their own and often let slip a word that doesn't sound right. It was like that with this man there were several words that sounded more Leeds than London.'
'You've been very helpful sir.'
'You know where to contact me if I can assist you further.'
Barbara was cradling Pippa's music box. 'She loved this and usually had it with her. It was a present from our mother.It's got a little false drawer.' Barbara located it and inside found a Yale key. 'Do you recognise it?'
'It could be her flat key. Since she took up with Rocco she's not spent much time there. I thought she'd given it up actually but there's not much here. Pippa had lots of clothes and books so perhaps she did keep it on-may have told Rocco she'd given it up.'
'You know the address?'
'Yes.'
'We'd like to take a look round. Perhaps you'd come with us?'
'Of course.'
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Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #107 on: April 13, 2012, 11:41:31 PM »
Hazel came into the kitchen with a broad grin on her face.

"What's the matter with you, girl?" asked Slugger, turning away from a steaming pan of stew.

"It's Ron. They've just phoned. He's coming out of hospital today!"

Just then there was the toot of a car's horn outside.

"Hey, surely that can't be Ron now?"

"No!" exclaimed Hazel excitedly, "it's Antony again!"

Antony came into the kitchen carrying his metal detector, and said hello to Slugger and to Dora who had just come down the stairs.

"I really must thank you for what you've done!" said Dora. "Are you going to start digging on the site of the monastery now?"

"No - actually now it's a scheduled archaeological site, I'm not allowed to go there, at least not unless it's as part of an organised dig."

"Why on earth is that?" asked Hazel.

"Well, you see, a coin or other metal object could help an archaeologist to date a particular find or level of debris. If I removed a coin and took it out of its context, the archaeologists might not be able to date other finds, and I might cause more damage when I dug it up".

"Does that mean you can't do any more detecting here?" asked Dora.

"No. You see - as long as it's OK with you lot - the archaeological society have asked me to have another look at that area over by the lake".

"Of course!" said Dora. "Hazel, you take Antony down there. I'll come down later and see if you've found anything".

Hazel and Antony walked down to the lake together.

"I reckon Hazel's sweet on that young man!" said Slugger.

"You could be right!" said Dora. Now I must check how Copper is".

Down by the lake, Antony switched on the machine. The first find was an empty Watney's Party Seven can, but after a few false starts he triumphantly recovered a second lead ingot from the turf, and then a third one.

"Wow!" said Hazel, "more of those ingots. They're pretty important, aren't they?"

"I think that when they took the lead roof off the old infirmary, they must have stacked the ingots over here. Perhaps a few got left behind and gradually got buried in the grass. Or maybe one of the workmen hid them and planned to come back and retrieve them, but never did".

"Do you think there will be any more?" asked Hazel.

"I'm amazed we've found three" said Antony.

"Can I have a go?" asked Hazel.

"Of course. Hold it like this. Keep the search head level with the ground, and sweep gently from side to side!"

Hazel took the detector and started walking towards the new fence that marked the limit of Follyfoot land. Antony had covered most of the area between here and the lake, but there still was a narrow, overgrown strip by the fence. She walked forwards and backwards for about ten minutes, covering the ground like a vacuum cleaner. At last there was a reassuring squeak from the machine.

"Careful when you dig it up, Hazel. If it's something valuable you don't want to scratch it with the trowel!"

Hazel carefully removed a divot and then started removing clumps of earth with her hands. Suddenly she gave a little scream.

"What's that?" asked Antony.

"It's a face - staring at me!" shrieked Hazel.

Together on their hands and knees they scooped away the soil until they had exposed the portrait of a knight in armour, some three feet in length.

"Now, I know what this is!" said Hazel. "It's a brass rubbing. A boy I knew at school used to do these, He would hang them up in his house."

"This isn't a rubbing - it's an actual brass!" exclaimed Antony. "From the armour I'd say it dates from about 1400. I reckon this knight must have been buried in the infirmary chapel. When Henry VIII's men came, they must have ripped up the brass and stacked it with all the other metal for the king's coffers".

"What shall we do with him?" asked Hazel.

"I think we ought to lift him out carefully and take him over to the Colonel's place in my car. He'll be most excited about this!"

At that moment Dora appeared from the farmhouse. She looked into the hole in the ground and was reminded of her birthday two years ago when Ron and Steve had donned suits of armour and tried their hands at jousting. Excitedly, she got down on her hands and knees and assisted with the excavation.

Ten minutes later Mrs Porter opened the door to a rather muddy Dora, Antony and Hazel carrying a long, thin, corroded piece of old metal. When they explained what they wanted, she ushered them into the Colonel's study.

"This is amazing!" said the Colonel. "Could we clean him up a bit so we can see him better?"

"Do you have a soft brush or anything like that?"

"Yes - I'll see what I can find!"

Antony expertly brushed the centuries of dirt and grime off the brass. The figure was clad in full armour, with a pointed helmet and chain mail at the breast.

"Look!" said Dora. "There's some writing at the bottom!"

"Oh yes!" said the Colonel. "It's in Latin. How good's your Latin, Antony?"

"I can understand this. It starts with ORA PRO ANIMA, which means Pray For The Soul Of, and after that there's the name of the person it commemorates, and it looks as if it says Geoffrye Maddox!"

"But that's your name, Uncle!" exclaimed Dora.

"And here's the date - MCCCCXX - that means 1420."

"Wow!" said Hazel. "That's SO old!"

The Colonel got up and extracted an ancient leather-bound tome from a bookshelf behind his desk. "This is the Maddox family history", he explained. "My great-aunt Maud researched it all. If this feller really is connected to me, then he ought to be in here!" He scanned the book for a few moments. "Ah - here we are. Sire Geoffrye Maddox. He went to fight with King Henry V at Agincourt in 1415, and he was wounded in the battle. He returned to England an invalid and was cared for by the monks of Kirkstall Abbey until his death five years later!"

"So, Uncle, this really is the portrait of our ancestor?"

"So it would seem, Dora!"

At that moment the telephone rang.

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Offline loopylin

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #108 on: April 19, 2012, 12:16:22 AM »
The next day WPC Sandra Lawton accompanied Hutchinson and Barbara to the upstairs flat which Pippa had occupied. Hutchinson had the key and opened the door. There was a pile of letters on the floor which he picked up and handed to Lawton.Someone had followed them up the stairsand a large woman appeared in the doorway.'What yer doing here? You aint Miss Lockyer.'
Hutchinson showed her his warrant card and Sandra did the same. 'This is Miss Lockyer's sister.'
'She's behind with the rent.'
'I'm afraid she won't be needing the flat any more.' said Hutchinson.
'Well someone'll have to pay and all this stuff'll have to be shifted so as I can re-let it.'
'How much does she owe?' asked Barbara.
'A hundred quid will sort it till the end of the week- after that I'll need some more.'
'Is the furniture yours Mrs-er'
'Sampson- and no only the cooker's mine.'
Barbara promised to let her have a cheque and the woman left.
'How on earth am I going to clear this lot by the end of the week?' asked Barbara.
'The best thing you can do is see what you want to keep or give to charity and then let the house clearance people do the rest.We'll just have a quick look round. Was there an address book in your sister's bag? Or any photographs?'
'No- she did have an address book though.' The telephone stood on a small table which had a drawer which was empty and a shelf which housed directories. Barbara went into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. On the floor there were several shoe boxes. 'This is where she kept her photos.' she said taking out the largest.The wardrobe also contained several handbags and a small briefcase- she removed those too. Hutchinson had been looking round. 'I don't think there's anything of interest to us here Miss Lockyer. As you say there are lots of clothes and books. What I suggest is that we take these things back to your place and go through them together. Then you can come back on your own or with a friend and sort out what you want to do with the rest. You do have a car don't you?'
'Yes- and I think I'd prefer to sort things by  myself. I've been given some time off work.'
They returned to Barbara's home. Sandra made some tea. Barbara opened the shoebox and quickly flipped through the contents. 'There's nothing to interest you here.' she said. 'Old family photos that's all.' One of the handbags contained the address book in a zipped up compartment and also a diary, she flipped through the pages which were mainly blank but a few dates had things written against them. 'May I borrow this?' said Hutchinson. She nodded and picked up the address book. 'Tell me which names you recognise.'
Barabara did so. There were several she could not identify. Rocco was not there but there was a telephone number against the letter J. Hutchinson speculated whether this could be Julius and wanted to borrow this too with the intention of showing it to Butch. Suddenly Barbara gave a little cry. She had been looking in the briefcase and found a brown paper package which she had opened. In it was an envelope of photographs obviously taken at a wedding and one framed photograph of Pippa with two men. The other photos were mainly of her with one of the men and he had not been looking directly at the camera on any of them except the one in the frame. 'That's him- that's Rocco. I remember Pippa saying they were going to his neice's wedding. It was about three months ago according to the date on the picture envelope so this is a very recent photo.'
'Do you know who the other man is?'
'No.'
Hutchinson looked at the photo and recalled the time when he had come to the station and taken charge of Butch. This then must be Aaron Friedrickson who was responsible for pushing Butch from the train. 'Is there another print of this picture?'
'Yes- here we are- a smaller version.'
'I think we're making progress! If you'll excuse me I have another call to make.'
linda-norfolk dumpling

Offline FollyFootfan1689

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #109 on: April 19, 2012, 06:06:23 PM »
With the phone call made things were set in motion as slowly the net began to close in.

Back at Follyfoot Dora and the Colonel were still enthusing over their finds with Hazel.


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Offline loopylin

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #110 on: May 04, 2012, 10:44:40 PM »
Rocco picked up the newspaper which had been delivered that morning. 'Men sought in Kidnapping Case.' The headline made him catch his breath especially when he saw the photograph of himself and Solly with Loxy. ' Solly!' he yelled. 'We have to get out of the country.'
Solly looked at the paper.' That's a pretty good photo Roc. I reckon they'll be watching the ports and airports.'
'I've got a fake passport and a good disguise. Anyway, I've got contacts and I can be on the continent by morning.'
'Well I'm going to stay here if you don't mind. You did say no-one here knows you by sight or name didn't you?'
'I told you I have a disguise. I'm a very respectable business person  who often takes trips abroad. You stay here at your own risk Solly.'
'How about some money to help me make good my own escape? If I leave it a week or two the heat will be off and if you tell me your contact I can get my own fake papers.'
Rocco went into his inner sanctum which was always kept locked and came out with a small bundle of notes. 'Here-that's all I can spare and if you contact this guy he'll see you right.'
Solly took the money and counted it. 'Three Hundred measly quid. That won't get me far!'
Rocco grabbed hold of his lapels. 'It's all I can spare. You were responsible for the death of my girl. It's more than you deserve.I'm going to change. Make yourself scarce for an hour. Have a walk round the grounds.When you come back I'll be gone and you'll have the place to yourself.'
Solly went outside, he didn't know whether he could trust Rocco. He needed to get away but where to. He looked at Rocco's car - if he took it Rocco would be able to phone for a taxi to make his getaway, after all he was a respectable businessman.He discounted the idea and thought again. He was used to living rough. There was plenty of food in the house. When Rocco had gone he would pack supplies and take off. He could make his way deeper into the highland countryside. He was sure there would be disused crofts up there. So deep in thought was he that he failed to notice the tall blonde who emerged from the house with a black leather handbag. She wore no shoes and her steps were not heard on the soft grass. She produced a cosh from her bag and crepeping up on the unsuspecting Solly she brought it down on his head.
'Sir- we've had a tip-off. Some geezer phoned up to say he knew where Friedrickson is. I wrote the addres down.' Hutchinson looked at the paper.
'We need to alert the local police.'
Solly had not come round when the police descended on Rocco's house. He was lying on the floor in the lounge naked and trussed up like a Christmas turkey ready for the oven. The police picked him up still unconscious, found a blanket and took him to hospital in the squad car. Fifty miles away a car was found wrapped round a tree with the driver, an attractive blonde dead at the wheel. As she was moved into the ambulance  one of the attendants noticed the blanket covering her face had slipped and as he reached to replace it he noticed something odd. The eyebrows were not blonde but dark. Once inside the vehicle he made a closer examination of the corpse. The blonde hair was a wig, a very good wig. He lifted the dress and checked the legs-definitely shaved and checking the underwear he noticed a rather unfeminine bulge in the pants.'I think we've got ourselves a drag artist Tony' he said to his colleague.
linda-norfolk dumpling

Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #111 on: May 14, 2012, 11:16:34 PM »
The door to the Colonel's study opened and Dora and Hazel were amazed to see Ron, Steve and Minnie Foley enter the room together. Steve rushed over to Dora and said "Hello girl! I'm sorry I made such a fool of myself! What's this you've got here?"

"Oh Steve!" exclaimed Dora. "That's alright. Look at this - it's a memorial to one of my ancestors. This is Antony - he's just dug it up at Follyfoot!"

"So there was something interesting there after all!"

Ron limped over. He was walking with a stick and was still in some pain. "I knew those old papers would come up trumps. They'll never be able to build on that land now, will they?"

"So it would seem!" said the Colonel. "That was the local council on the phone. It looks as if Councillor Earnshaw was up to no good!"

Minnie Foley came further into the room and whispered something into Steve's ear. Dora gave them both a funny look. Then Steve coughed loudly to get everyone's attention.

"Now everybody. Minnie and I have got some news for you!"

"Cor! What's that?" asked Ron, winking at Hazel.

"I've been helping Minnie get moved into her new home. She's just going off to take the boys on a little holiday. She's asked me to help her get her stables up and running."

"So she's offered you a job?" asked Dora, pointing at Minnie Foley.

"It's only a temporary arrangement" said Steve.

"You see, Dora, we want to bring Bobby over to the new stables, and then I'd like to get two new horses for Gavin and Brian, and Steve has offered to help me find them and get them settled in."

"So, Steve, you'll be leaving Follyfoot after all?" asked Dora.

Steve went over to Dora and put his arm around her shoulder. "Not at all, girl. In fact, I want you to help me. There's nobody in the world who's as good with horses as you. I'd like you to come with me to find a couple of suitable horses for the boys, and get them settled in at Minnie's new place. Not forgetting Bobby of course. We may need to spend a few days at Minnie's place, but I'm sure Ron and Hazel can look after Follyfoot until we get back."

Dora stood with her mouth open. Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn't been this.

"I'll pay both of you for your time, it's only fair!" said Minnie Foley.

"Well, girl?" asked Steve. "What do you say, then?"

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Offline Loopy

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #112 on: May 15, 2012, 01:43:57 PM »
Dora looked at Steve's excited face, then at Minnie Foley who was smiling happily at her.  Ron was nodding, trying to egg her on to say yes.  As she looked around she realised how wonderful this would be for everybody concerned.  She shouldn't let her feelings get in the way of a correct decision.  She mustn't let her heart rule her head.  Follyfoot was not the be all and end all.  This was Steve's chance of doing something for himself and she knew he would relish the challenge and work hard at achieving the best.  Minnie and the boys would have the new start in life that had been long overdue.  Ron and Hazel would enjoy running Follyfoot and, who knows, it may even be the making of them.  Dora smiled and looked into Steve's dark, pleading eyes.  "OK" she said "I'd love to help." And, what's more, she really meant it.


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Offline loopylin

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #113 on: May 20, 2012, 11:31:23 PM »
Solly was soon patched up in the hospital A and E but because of possible concussion he was kept in overnight.Next day, dressed in scrubs he was arrested and cautioned and taken to the police station where they found him some clothes. 'Well m'lad- are you going to do like your friend Cassidy and make things easy for us by pleading guilty?'
asked Hutchinson.
'What's the charge?'
'Charges- kidnapping and murder.'
'No- not murder. I didn't want Loxy to die!'
'Well if you tell us exactly what happened we might just make it manslaughter. Remember that you have been cautioned and that whatever you say will form your statement and may be used in evidence.'
'Before we start- Did you catch up with Rocco- Julius to you.'
Hutchinson didn't reply but pushed a newspaper across the table.
'Well- that's a turn up for the books and no mistake. Tough guy Rocco. Mr. Big of the organisation dressed up as a blonde woman. Any idea why he crashed the car?'
'Seems like the brakes were faulty.'
Solly said nothing more about the crash. He didn't want to risk more trouble. Rocco and Rollo had connections with the Maffia. He thought he would be safer in gaol if anyone suspected that the brakes had been tampered with. 'Okay guv- I'll come clean.'
The confessions and the fact that Butch and Solly were pleading guilty meant that neither Gavin nor any of the gypsies  would have to testify.  Long prison sentences loomed but Butch and Solly  had given the police lots of leads to follow up regarding the hitherto undetected crimes of Rollo and Rocco so they were hoping this would go in their favour. Barbara Lockyer was able to arrange her sisters funeral - a very quiet affair which they managed to keep from the media.
Brian Foley made a full recovery and because none of them had a passport Minnie took  both her sons for a caravan holiday in Norfolk vowing that later on when passports had been obtained she would take them to sunnier climes. Steve drove them to the railway station. 'Don't worry, Dora and I will take care of everything for you.'
'When we get back perhaps you can give me some driving lessons.'
'We'll see' said Steve. He helped them onto the train with their luggage and drove back to the farm eagerly anticipating the challenges which lay ahead.
linda-norfolk dumpling

Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #114 on: May 28, 2012, 10:37:35 PM »
Jeff Bromley was on the road to recovery. Sitting up in bed, he was looking through the copy of the Daily Mirror that the nurse had brought in. The doctor had reckoned he should soon be back to work. But he'd been doing some tests and hadn't given him the results yet.

There was a knock on the door and Inspector Garnet came in.

"Mr Bromley, could you spare me a few minutes?"

"Well, Inspector, it's not as though I've got anything else to do, is it?"

"I suppose not." Garnet sat on the wooden chair by the bed. "What I need to know about, Mr Bromley, is the rubble that you were taking in your lorry to Gallows Farm!"

"Yeah - what about it?"

"Where did it come from?"

"It was all slum clearance, from those two long streets that run up from St Matthias Street to the Kirkstall Viaduct - Lilian Street and Amy Street, I think they're called."

"And why were you dumping the rubble at Gallows Farm?"

"It was the Guv'nor, Councillor Earnshaw, asked me to do that."

"Was that usual. Did you normally take orders directly from the councillor?"

"No. But 'e got 'old of me one evening just as I was finishing work. Said 'e had a little extra job for me. Paid me cash n'all. Is there any trouble? It's not illegal, is it?"

"Well, actually, it just might be. It seems there may have been asbestos in those old houses."

"Is that a problem?"

"It's now classified as a dangerous substance. It should have been taken to a special centre for disposal."

"I dunno anything about that."

"Neither did Councillor Earnshaw, so it seems."

"So - is my health in danger from this stuff?"

"It's too early to tell. The symptoms can take years to develop. But I should really put you on charge for dumping this stuff on what's now a protected site!"

"Look, I was just doin' my job! I didn't know nuffink about that!"

"I believe you, Mr Bromley. I just need you to write a little statement. And then I'm going to have words with our friend Councillor Earnshaw!"

******************************************************

Dora and Steve were at Follyfoot when the Inspector from the Department of the Environment called. They showed hin into the kitchen, where he opened a black leather briefcase with EIIR in gold letters embossed on it, and drew out a file. He explained about the illegal dumping at Gallows Farm.

"Do you think this could have done any harm to us or the horses?" asked Dora.

"I don't think you need to worry at all, unless you've really got close to the stuff. But what we need to do is remove it all as soon as possible. So there may be a bit of noise over the next few days. We'll take the earth-moving equipment in across the fields from Wike - we shouldn't need to bother you at all!"

"That's OK", said Steve. In fact Dora and I are going to be spending most of the time in Alwoodley for the next few days. But we'll tell Ron, Slugger and Hazel!"

"What about the archaeologists?" asked Dora.

"Well, I was just coming on to that" said the Inspector. Following your friend's finds, we're a bit worried about possible damage to the site, and, since we're going to have to skim off the topsoil anyway, we've given the Leeds University Archaeological Society a grant to carry out a rescue dig. They shouldn't cause any disruption."

The inspector put the papers back in his briefcase and bade his farewell.

"So young Antony may be around here for a while!" exclaimed Dora. "Hazel WILL be pleased!"

"Not so sure about Ron, though!" said Steve.

"We'll just have to make sure he's very busy!" said Dora. "Now come on, we've got to get over to Minnie's place again!"

People who don't like cats were probably mice in an earlier life.

Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #115 on: June 14, 2012, 12:03:43 AM »
A few days later Ron and Hazel were out early, looking over the fence at what was going on in Gallows Farm. A Land Rover pulled up and several young people got out. Hazel recognised Antony Matthews immediately. A long-haired man wearing a hat with a feather appeared to be in charge, giving instructions to the others and hammering wooden pegs into the ground.

Antony left the others and ran off to speak to Hazel and Ron.
“We’re all ready to go!” he said.
“Will you be using your metal detector?” asked Hazel.
“Only to search the spoil heaps. When we work in the trenches we’ll be removing the soil very carefully, using these little trowels”. He held up a small flat diamond-shaped trowel, like a miniature version of those used by bricklayers.
“Who’s that geezer in the hat?” asked Ron.
“Oh, that’s Phil Harding. He’s a professional archaeologist. He comes from Wiltshire and he’s been working for the Southampton City Council’s Archaeological Unit.”
“What’s he doing up here then?”
“The Department of the Environment’s very interested in this site and they thought they ought to send someone to supervise it.”
“But he looks very young!” said Ron.
“He’s only 23. But he’s been digging sites since he was 16, and he’s got lots of experience. I reckon he’s going to be very famous one day.”
“Come on, Antony!” called the man with the hat in a soft West Country accent. “This trench won’t dig itself!”
“I’d better be off” said Antony. “If you come around in a couple of hours or so, we might have found something”.

Hazel and Ron went off to their chores in the stables. Steve and Dora were away at the Foleys’ new house, and standards at Follyfoot were slipping slightly, but after all the upheavals and excitement of the last few weeks the horses and donkeys didn’t seem to care. The weather was fine for a winter’s day and most of the horses were happy to wander in the meadow by the lake. Ron turned on his transistor radio and tuned it to Radio 1 so they could have some music while they cleaned out the stables. He’d never have done that with Dora and Steve around.
Slugger’s head popped out from behind the farmhouse door. “Can’t you turn that row down?”
“Oh, Slugs – you oughtta learn to appreciate proper culture. This is Mott the Hoople –it’s a great song”.
“Mott the what?”
“Oh, Slugs, I give up!”
“In my day we ‘ad proper songs, by Bing Crosby or Vera Lynn. Or that Guy Mitchell fella – now ‘e ‘ad a good voice and knew ‘ow to put a song across. These modern singers, well, you can’t even hear the words!”
“Well, you don’t ‘ave to listen to it, do ya? Why don’t you go back to the kitchen and make us a nice pot o’ tea?”
“A nice pot o’ tea! You’ll be lucky!”

As the day wore on, Ron and Hazel became curious as to what was going on at Gallows Farm. Strolling over there for a peep at the excavations, they saw that all the archaeologists were on their hands and knees in the depths of the trench. Anthony was working alongside an attractive blonde, with whom he seemed to be on familiar terms.
“Hey, look at old Antony!” whispered Ron to Hazel, grinning. “E’s a bit of a dark horse!”
Hazel looked rather uncomfortable when Antony came running up to them.
“Nothing much to show, I’m afraid. We think we might have reached the Medieval floor level over here, and there seems to have been a stone wall here, but it’s all been robbed out.”
“Found any buried treasure?” asked Ron.
“Nothing valuable, but it’s all useful evidence for us”. He reached over and brought across an empty ice-cream carton that contained a small collection of finds. “There’s a bronze shoe buckle – I reckon that’s Tudor – and a small brass button, a few animal bones and a couple of pottery shards.”
Ron looked distinctly unimpressed.
“And who’s that girl you’re working with?” asked Hazel.
“Oh - that’s Debbie. She’s my girlfriend.”
Ron turned to Hazel and winked.
“Well, I’d better get back to work. We’re going to erect a little hut for our gear and our finds. Phil wants to stop around four o’clock, before it gets dark, and we’ll then drive off to the University and he’ll decide what we’re doing tomorrow.”
Ron and Hazel walked back to Follyfoot, Ron still grinning from ear to ear.

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully. The Colonel paid them a short visit and Slugger decided to walk down to the archaeological site with Ron just before four. Hazel said that she’d stay back at Follyfoot.
The archaeologists were packing up for the day, and Phil Harding introduced himself to Slugger and showed him the meagre collection of finds. These now included a few uninspiring looking fragments of flint.
“What’s with all these stones then?”
“These are dressed flints from the Neolithic period!”
“Don’t look that exciting to me. I thought you was supposed to be diggin’ up some monkery?”
“We haven’t found that yet. We’ll extend this trench tomorrow, and if we don’t find any Medieval stuff we’ll then open another one!”
“Seems a waste of time to me!” said Slugger.

Ron left the farm soon after that and headed down the lane on his motorbike. As he neared the Clap Gate Inn he slowed down. Parked in front of the pub was an old green MG which he recognised. It belonged to his mate David. Dave was always fun to sink a few jars with, and Ron had occasionally slept on the floor of his digs when he’d spent a late night in Leeds. Dave was a clever lad: he’d gone to Grammar School and then to Leeds University where he was halfway through a medical course.

Parking his Triumph Tiger Cub, Ron entered the pub and found his friend nursing a pint in the lounge bar. He joined him and soon was telling him all about the recent events at Follyfoot, including the archaeological dig.
“It’s dead boring, mate. They haven’t found anything.”
“Never mind. D’you want another drink?”
As the two young men chatted their conversation turned to other matters, until Ron suddenly announced: “Hey, Dave! I’ve got an idea!”
“What’s that, Ron, me old mate?”
“About the archaeological dig. Have you still got Fred?”
“Yes. What about him?  Hey, I see what you’re getting at. Yes, that could be a super wheeze!”
Fred was a human skeleton that stood in the corner of Dave’s bedsit. A gift from an uncle who had been a consultant, Fred normally sported a trilby hat and a Leeds United shirt, with his empty eye sockets greeting anyone entering the room.

Leaving his motorbike at the pub, Ron got into the MG’s front passenger seat and Dave set off for Leeds University. An hour or so later, in complete darkness, they drove down the access road past Wike forge to Gallows Farm. Ron was sure Dave was well over the limit, but he handled the car expertly. Who knows what would have happened if Bert had stopped them and then found the skeleton in the back of the car?

“D’you know, Ron, I’ve always thought we should give old Fred a proper burial. And this is our opportunity!”
“Well, they’re digging out the rest of this trench tomorrow – let’s stick him in there!”
The two friends got a couple of shovels from the small prefabricated wooden shed that the archaeologists had erected on the corner of the site. Digging away at the loose earth at the end of the trench, they soon excavated a hollow large enough to contain Fred. After burying him – without the trilby hat or Leeds United shirt – they left in the moonlight. Dave dropped Ron off at the Clap Gate to pick up his motorbike, and, as the engine noises ceased, only the hooting of an owl disturbed the peace of Harewood.

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Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #116 on: June 24, 2012, 11:42:54 PM »
The next morning Ron burst through the gate on his motorbike rather earlier than usual. He greeted Slugger with a cheery grin and took a cup of tea on a tray up to Hazel. Before long all three of them were on the far side of the lake looking over the fence to Gallows Farm.

“Why were you so keen to get down here?” asked Slugger. “You seemed to be losing interest in the dig yesterday!”
“Well, Slugs, I’ve just got this feeling that they’re going to find something special today. I can feel it in me’ bones, you could say!”

It had rained during the night and the wind had blown large numbers of dead leaves off the trees. If Ron and Dave’s escapade last night had left any traces, they would have been completely obliterated.
Across the fence Phil Harding was giving instructions to the young archaeologists.

“D’you know? I’ve been thinking about this trench we started yesterday. We’ve found practically no medieval archaeology in it. I reckon we should abandon it and start a new one 25 yards to the north. The aerial photo I was studying last night shows some crop marks there.”

Two of the students set off with some rope and pegs to mark out the new trench. Meanwhile, Antony broke away from the group and went to chat to his friends from Follyfoot.

“Are you going to finish digging out that trench?” asked Hazel.
“No” replied Antony. “Phil’s just said that he reckons we’re wasting our time there. We’ll start work on a new trench and this old one will just be backfilled.”
“Hey!” shouted Ron, “They can’t do that!”
“Whyever not?”
“Look, Antony, me old mate. I’m good at this sort of thing. I’ve always been good at telling fortunes and that sort o’ thing. Now I’m sure you’re going to find something in that trench – can’t you just keep on diggin’ there for a bit?”
“Well – I suppose I could ask Debbie to spend another half-hour or so down there. But if she doesn’t find anything in that time, we’ll have to give it up and fill in the trench.”
“Oh! Please do!” shouted Hazel, squeezing Ron’s arm.

At that moment the Colonel arrived.
“Now, what’s going on? I’ve just been to Follyfoot and no-one was there!”
“We thought we’d watch the excavations for a bit!” said Slugger.
“In that case I’ll join you!” The Colonel pulled out his pipe and tobacco, and settled down on his shooting-stick. “Though I can’t imagine what they’re going to find today!”

They saw Debbie exchanging a few words with Phil Harding and then heading off to the trench where they had found the pottery and flints the day before. Meanwhile most of the others were starting work on the new trench.

After only a few minutes there was an excited cry from Debbie: “Hey everyone, I’ve found something!”
“What is it?” asked Phil Harding,
“I think it’s human remains. This looks like a skull here. And there seem to be some ribs or other bones just over there. Perhaps it’s a complete skeleton!”

Phil Harding came rushing over and had a careful look at the remains.

“You’re right, Debbie. That’s definitely a human skull you’ve got there. Now you’d better put away your trowel and use a brush – we don’t want to damage it!” He called over another of the students who took a photo of the half-buried skull.

“You know what” said Slugger to the Colonel.
“No, Slugger, what?”
“This could be your great-great-grandfather or whoever he was, the one what fought at Agincourt!”
“Oh, I don’t know!” replied the Colonel. “If this was a monks’ infirmary there could be lots of burials around here”.
Hazel was shivering. “Do you know” she started, “I think this is all rather gruesome. I mean, we used to walk and ride our horses over here so often – and to think what was buried just underneath!”
Ron was being strangely quiet.

After watching Debbie for a few minutes, Phil Harding came over to the fence to speak to the Colonel.
“Do you have a telephone at the Farm?”
“Yes, Mr Harding. Would you like to use it?”
“Yes please. You see, if we uncover human remains, we have to inform the police.”
“The police?” squealed Ron.
“Yes. It’s the law. Of course, we may be able to prove that these bones have been there for hundreds of years, but this one’s so clean and white that it could be more recent. And I’d expect a medieval skeleton to be laid out in a Christian grave, aligned west to east. But this one just seems to have been thrown in anyhow. You never know, it could be a murder victim!”
“Of course, Phil. Please feel free to call the police!”
“But we don’t want the police round here!” shouted Ron. “This was probably one of those monks hanged by King Henry the Eighth – I bet nobody bothered to give them a Christian burial! Can’t you wait for a moment, mate?”
Just then there was a cry from Debbie: “Phil, I think you’d better come and take a closer look at this skeleton. There’s something very strange about it!”

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Offline Loopy

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #117 on: June 29, 2012, 02:52:11 PM »
Everybody watched with bated breath as Phil jumped into the trench with Debbie and examined the skeleton.  Then to their horror they watched as Phil grabbed the skull and pulled with all his might until the skeleton’s bony body appeared.  There was a gasp from the crowd as Phil dangled the bones high in the air. 

“I’ve never seen a skeleton, medieval or otherwise, whose bones are held together with wire.” shouted Phil to the amazed onlookers.  “Someone’s been ‘aving a little joke with us” he continued “and God help ‘em if I finds out who it is.” 

Everybody had by now crowded around the fraudulent grave except Ron, who smirked and turned to go but Slugger was standing tall, blocking his escape route. 

“And where d’ya fink you’re off to in such an ‘urry.  You was the one who was the most intrested just now.” he said. 

The Colonel came across “I know that shifty look Stryker.  What d’you know about this?” 

Ron gulped as he looked around at all the faces which were now staring in his direction and more worrying he could see Phil Harding climbing from the trench with a face like thunder and Fred, caught by the throat, dragging behind him.   Ron looked worriedly at the bones and then into Phil’s eyes as he neared his prey….. caveman, Ron thought, Phil Harding must have been a caveman in his past life!


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Offline FollyFootfan1689

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #118 on: July 08, 2012, 06:34:48 PM »
Phil's eyes were practically bulging from his head when he reached Slugger, Ron and the Colonel. "Do you know anything about this?!" He fumed at Ron.
"Er, um well." Ron fidgeted slightly.
Well?
Ah, now the 'fing is old Freddie 'ere's an ol' mate of sorts y'might say."
Might I indeed? Phil was practically shaking though his voice steely calm.
"Yeah and um well, we, I fort that he might be better off here y'see." Ron's voice suddenly became very small, head bowed in fear. "It was only meant as a bit of a joke, no harm done an' all that
No har..a little bit of a joke?! Phil thundered. "Thanks to your little joke, you have wasted valuable time...we nearly phoned the police!"
"Mr Harding." The Colonel stepped in, using his most placating tone. "I do understand how problematic this is but I do believe Mr. Stryker when he says that he meant no harm or malice...just high spirits."
"Yeah, that's right
"Come and discuss it in the study
"Very well, Sir." Phil began to follow the Colonel. I believe this belongs to you." He plonked Fred unceremoniously at Ron's feet.
Ron sighed, reaching to scoop Fred up. "Come on Freddie, me ol' mate, let's get you home."
"You're not going anywhere, Stryker." The Colonel warned. "I'll be back to deal with you later."
"Yes Sir." He mumbled, turning he saw Slugger grinning from ear to ear.
"Well, I dunno abaht you but I don't reckon he's gonna make no bones of that."
"Oh very funny!"


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Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #119 on: January 04, 2013, 12:43:21 AM »
The Colonel and Phil Harding came to an agreement: the Colonel was to load Ron to the archaeologists for the remainder of the week! Ron was soon put to work emptying wheelbarrows, helping mark out trenches and taking cups of tea and coffee over to the diggers – he didn’t think he’d ever worked as hard in his life!
 
Meanwhile, the Colonel gave Hazel a hand around Follyfoot. He’d always been happy to see the best in her, but now he was starting to think that his belief in his young protégée was justified. He could see her becoming a serious, hard-working young woman, and only hoped that she would prove a beneficial influence on Ron Stryker.
 
Councillor Earnshaw resigned once the story broke in the Tockwith Weekly Examiner. He announced that he was going to set up a Charitable Trust to manage Gallows Farm and the surrounding area, with public access permitted to the grounds and a suitable tenant to look after the farmhouse.
 
Winter was fast approaching, and, although the weather was unseasonably mild, Phil Harding realized that the dig could not go on for ever. Calling his ‘troops’ together one morning, he announced to Antony , Debbie and the others that they would be digging one last trench, over by the farmhouse.
 
“This looks like quite a promising area. The square that shows on the aerial photo could have been a little cloister. I reckon that the infirmary chapel may be over there. Some of its masonry was probably incorporated in the later farmhouse.”
 
After the trench had been marked out, and the JCB had removed the topsoil, Antony and Debbie got down on their hands and knees and began scraping away with their tiny trowels. It was Debbie who made the first discovery.
 
“Look at that!”
 
“It’s a medieval encaustic floor tile. Reminds me of the ones in Ripon Cathedral and Tork Minster”.
 
“That’s a sure sign that we must have found the chapel. They wouldn’t have used tiles like this just anywhere… and, d’you know what?”
 
“What?”
 
“I think we must have stumbled upon the Chancel. They often just used these tiles around the High Altar”.
 
Debbie took the tile to Phil, who brought several other members of the team over and set them to work on the trench. Other fragments of medieval tile soon appeared.
 
“This looks like the floor of the chapel” said Phil, “and this appears to be the corner, with the remains of a buttress”.
 
“Look at this!” exclaimed Antony .
 
His trowel had unearthed a large stone slab, and, as he brushed away the mud, they could see on its surface the impression of a human figure.
 
“It’s the indent of the brass!” said Debbie. “I think we should go and find the Colonel!”
 
 Debbie called Ron and asked him to go over to the Colonel’s house.

“Why me?” he grumbled.

“We’re all busy with the digging! Besides, it’ll only take you a few minutes on that bike of yours!”

That was true. Ron kick-started his Triumph Tiger Club and raced off to the big house. Luckily he found the Colonel in the front garden, trimming one of his rose bushes.

“Hello, Ron!” the Colonel started. “What brings you here this morning? Have you been making trouble with the archaeologists again?”

“Course not – what d’you take me for? Actually, the archaeologist blokes ‘ave asked me to come an’ fetch you! Reckon they’ve got something special to show you!”

The Colonel got in his Land Rover, and, Ron following, headed off for Gallows Farm.

“Well, what do you think of this?” asked Phil Harding.

“I don’t know what to say”, said the Colonel, tracing the outline of his ancestor’s figure on the stone slab. “So old Sire Geoffrye Maddox lies buried here?”

“That’s right – in a place of honour by the High Altar of the Infirmary Chapel!”

“And now I suppose you’re going to dig him up?”

Phil Harding shook his head. “D’you know what? He’s been lying here peacefully for over 500 years, so why disturb the old soldier now? I reckon it’s time we brought this dig to an end. We’ll record what we’ve found and then start filling in the trenches”.

The Colonel mused for a while, and then asked: “Mr Harding, do you think we could organise some kind of memorial service for old Sire Geoffrye?”

“What were you thinking of?”

“Perhaps getting the Vicar to say a few prayers over the tomb?”

“Well, Colonel, your ancestor died before the Reformation, so he’d have been accustomed to a Catholic Mass...”

“I know – I’ll contact old Father Daley from Tockwith Catholic Church. Let’s see if he can do something!”

The following Sunday, Ron, Hazel, Slugger, Steve, Dora, Antony, Debbie, Phil Harding and the other archaeological students gathered in the field in the pouring rain. The weather had changed and an icy wind was blowing from the North. Steve and Dora had driven over from Alwoodley, with the news that Minnie Foley and her sons were returning from holiday and planning to take up residence in their new house the following day.

The Colonel drove up accompanied by a frail, elderly figure in black. He helped the priest out of the car and attempted to hold an umbrella to protect him from the biting wind and rain.

“Now, I can’t promise that this will be exactly the service that old Sire Geoffrye would have known, as this arrangement of the Mass dates only from 1570. But it’s the best I can do”. Father Daley began by kneeling on the ground and intoning “Confíteor Deo omnipoténti, beátæ Maríæ semper Vírgini, beáto Michaéli Archángelo, beáto Ioanni Baptístæ, sanctis Apóstolis Petro et Paulo, ómnibus Sanctis, et vobis…”

After the short service, Steve got out a copy of the Complete Works of Shakespeare and read an extract from King Henry V, describing the King talking to his soldiers before the Battle of Agincourt. Then they all trooped off to the farmhouse for tea and scones.

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