Author Topic: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write  (Read 29550 times)

Offline Rob

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Re: Foley's Fortune - a new fanfic for everyone to write
« Reply #120 on: January 04, 2013, 12:45:16 AM »

“We’ll be off now” said Phil Harding.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure knowing you!” said the Colonel.

“So long, Phil, me ol’ mate!” said Ron, “And you know, if you ever need to liven up one of your digs again, I reckon I could arrange for ol’ Fred to drop in again, like!”

“Don’t you dare!” said Phil Harding, giving Ron the ‘wild caveman’ look again.

“So” went Hasel, turning to Steve and Dora,  “you two will be back in Follyfoot tomorrow?”

“That’s right!” said Steve.

“I’m so glad!” said Dora.

Minnie, Gavin and Brian returned from their holiday and were delighted with the new house and stable block at Alwoodley. Steve and Dora went over to help from time to time, while also resuming their regular activities at Follyfoot.

It was a few days before Christmas when the phone rang. Slugger got there first and picked it up.

“It’s Minnie Foley!” he said, “Steve, she wants you!”

Dora was sitting opposite Steve and gave him a frosty look as he went over and picked up the receiver.

“Hello, Minnie. What’s the matter?”

“It’s Gavin. He’s gone missing again! I wondered if he might be over at Follyfoot?”
“No, we haven’t seen him!”

“Oh no! Don’t say he’s been kidnapped again!”

“Now listen, Minnie. Where did you see him last?”

“He was here last night. He went to bed, but when I called him this morning, there was no reply, and his bed was empty”.

“Don’t panic, Minnie. I reckon I know where he might be.”

Steve headed out to the Land Rover, ignoring calls from Dora of “Where are you going?” and headed off to Leeds. Passing under the Kirkstall Viaduct, he turned right at the Rising Sun pub and then took the second left into Lilian Street. A scene of utter desolation greeted him. Many of the houses were gutted and abandoned, but the demolition work appeared to have stopped halfway along the street, and now and again a flickering light or a movement behind a net curtain showed that some of the properties were still inhabited. Built on the cheap in the year of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee, these mean little houses were not going to see the Silver Jubilee of her great-great-granddaughter.

He pulled up outside Number 20. The front door was hanging drunkenly on one hinge, and every pane of glass in the windows was shattered. Yet he fancied he could hear a noise inside. He ran up the narrow staircase, his feet crunching on broken glass. The door at the top of the stairs was shut.

“Gavin, are you in there?” he called.

Receiving an unintelligible grunt, Steve pushed the door open. Gavin was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. Steve sat down beside him.

“Gavin, I know why you’ve come here. It’s not easy to lose a father, no matter what else happens in your life. I know”.

Gavin pointed upwards, without speaking. Steve followed his gaze to the cracked ceiling with its cobwebs and peeling paint. Hanging from an old light fitting was a model Spitfire. “That’s what I came for. Me Dad gave it me!”

Steve reached up and hauled the plane down, handing it to Gavin.

“’E never used to give us toys, me and me brother, our Dad. But ‘e said that this was summat special. The Spitfire won us the War, ‘e said. So ‘e bought me this Airfix model and I painted it up and hung it over my bed. I really wanted to get it back!”

“Now, Gavin, you’ve got it back, and your Mother’s very worried about you. I really think I ought to take you home.”

They walked out to the Land Rover, Gavin clutching his precious Spitfire.

As they headed to Alwoodley, Steve tried to start a conversation with Gavin. “You know, Gavin, you’re always welcome to drop in at Follyfoot. We’ll always be there for you!”

“Thanks Steve. You’re a good bloke!”

The next day Minnie Foley came over to Follyfoot. Slugger saw her into the kitchen and poured her a tea. Steve, Dora and Ron came in; Hazel was out somewhere.

“I’ve just come to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” said Minnie. “And I’d like to say sorry for the awful trouble I’ve been to you over the last few months!”

“That’s alright!” said Steve. Dora nodded shyly, lost for words.

“Now I reckon you lot could do with some decent food over Christmas, so I’ve brought you this!” said Minnie, handing over a large wicker basket she was carrying that turned out to be a hamper from Harrods of London.

“And I’ve got a card for you all as well”, continued Minnie, handing Slugger an envelope. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to be on my way. The Colonel has invited me and the boys over to lunch!”

“Wonders never cease!” said Ron, who was now engaged in examining with interest the contents of the hamper.

“And what did she put in the card?” Dora asked Slugger.

“’Old on – she says A Merry Christmas to You All. An’ that’s not all… Well, I’m blowed. |She says she’s paying for us to go on holiday together. She says we can share a villa in the South of France!”

“But that’s terrific!” exclaimed Ron.

“But we can’t possibly go!” screamed Dora. “Who would look after the horses?”

“She says she’ll pay someone. And Gavin and Brian will come over every day!”

“Well, what do you say, Dora? You really could do with a break!”


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