Chapter Nine
And on that one day, straight after school, the plan went into action. They had agreed, after a lot of discussion, on a plan of campaign.
The first important thing was to give Olly an alibi. They told him to stay behind after school and help his Uncle Bill, the caretaker. He did this sometimes anyway to get a bit of extra pocket money. That way he was in the clear.
Then there was Sally. They didn’t want her at the scene of the action, so she was going to be a decoy, getting Olly’s Mam out of the way.
Brains, who knew where the egg was, would retrieve it. Scrapper and Jake would keep watch at either end of the back lane. It ran the length of the street, with a high wall along the backyards of the houses. Each house yard was separated from the next one by a wall of the same height, so you couldn’t see next door from downstairs. As bedrooms were used only for sleeping in, and the lavvies were outside, there wasn’t much danger of being spotted by nosy neighbours.
So now it was zero hour. “Go on, Sally. Best of luck!” They hadn’t told her any details, just that it was a mission of great importance. Off she skipped to Olly’s front door. When Olly’s Mam opened the door, Sally told her there was a long queue at the greengrocer’s at the top of the avenue - there must be something special to buy. In those days, whenever you saw a long queue you joined it – never knew what rare goodies you might get. Mrs. Stott soon came out with her shopping bag, and Sally stayed in the street, playing with her skipping rope, in case she came back too soon.
Olly’s bigger brothers and sisters weren’t home yet, but there was not much time.
Scrapper, keeping watch on Sally, signalled to the other two and ran to join them in the back lane.
“Hope Olly remembered,” said Brains, at the coalhole. He’d given Olly instructions to fill the coal bucket for his Mam before he went to school, giving him the chance to undo the two strong bolts that locked the coalhole from inside, and put plenty of oil on them. Brains crossed his fingers for luck, then he pulled at the coalhole door from the back lane. Yes, it opened easily. Putting in a hand, he found the egg, a bit grimy, just where Olly had said. He waved his hand high in the air, and Jake and Scrapper came running to join him.
“Great, let’s go,” shouted Scrapper.
Jake was too overwhelmed to say anything.
“Oh no!” said Brains, clapping his hand over this mouth. “We’ve forgotten something. Small matter of the coalhole. We’ve got to bolt it again.”
Jake and Scrapper looked shattered. “How can we do that from out here?”
“Can’t. We’ll have to go in the yard and get inside. Risky, but it’s got to be done, and quick, before Olly‘s uncle gets here.”
“I’ll do it,” said Jake. “It’s my fault all this happened.”
So they gave him a bunk up over the back wall and he landed all in one piece, with just two grazed knees. He unfastened the back door for a quick getaway, then he got in the coalhouse, scrambled to the back and pushed the bolts. He’d just shut the coalhouse door and was leaving when he heard somebody in the house. They were bound to see him. Quick as a flash he turned round to face the house and shouted, “Olly, are you coming out?” as the lads always did when they were calling for a mate.
“He’s not home yet,” shouted his big brother, opening the kitchen door. “Bet he’s been kept in, silly brat.”
“All right, thanks. Will you tell him we’ll be at the Wreck.” Jake sauntered out of the back door, whistling.
“Good thinking there, Jakey,” said Brains, clapping him on the back. “Mission accomplished.”
On the way home Brains kept chuckling. “Hope Olly’s Mam wasn’t too disappointed – a bit mean, but needs must. I wonder whether Uncle Bill will read the note tonight or tomorrow. I’d written a little message to leave when I took the egg.”
“What note’s that?” asked Scrapper.
“From one Spiv to another – BEWARE. You don’t know me, but I know you, and I’m watching. Frightened? EGGsactly. You should be!
“Meaning what?” asked Scrapper.
“Great!” said Jake. “He’ll get what he deserves all right. Don’t you see, Scrapper, he won’t be able to say anything about losing the egg, and he’ll be scared stiff for ever more of the mystery note leaver. He’ll think he took the egg.”
“He should be locked up,” snarled Scrapper.
“Probably will be sooner or later. Still, for now, all’s well that ends well!” said Brains.
“Not quite ended yet,” said Jake. “Lets go and see Granddad.”
He was sitting at the kitchen table, head in hands. The old sock was on the table, empty, of course. He sighed and said, “Hello, lads, just having a bit of peace and quiet.”
The gang had debated about how they would give him the egg back. A bit of drama first? A joke, even - tell him to close his eyes and put the egg back in the sock and say they knew nothing about it - but in the end there was only one thing to say - Nothing. Brains simply put it down on the table in front of him - after all, he was the one who had got it back. Granddad stared. He said nothing for a while. He shook his head slowly. “It’s come back.”
Jake started on the story of Olly and his uncle, but Granddad didn’t seem to want to hear. “It’s come back,” he repeated. His eyes were moist.
Jake thought they should leave him for a while. “We’re going out now, Granddad. See you later.”
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” asked Brains.
“Oh yes, now he will. You don’t know how much that egg means to him.” Jake was so excited he tried a Cossack leap.
“Leave that to your granddad - you aren’t much good.”
They didn’t stay out too long, just enough time to let Granddad recover. Then they all went back to Jakes’. Granddad was still sitting at the kitchen table. He had the egg in his hands. As the lads came in, he opened the egg and Jake’s astonished pals looked at the golden ship. Granddad laughed. “We’d never have known about the ship if you hadn’t borrowed the egg, Jake.”
“That is just marvellous,” Brains said, staring at every little detail. “Seriously, Mr. Finney, you should put the egg in a really safe place. You know, like a bank vault or something.”
“Sound just like your Headmaster, young man. Mind you, he was no great shakes when it came to safe keeping. Now what are we going to tell him. I know, we’ll tell him the egg has magic qualities and can travel. It travelled home to me. He won’t ask too many questions. Bet he’ll be glad to hear the last of it.”
They all had a good laugh at that.
“Jakey, you can tell me tonight all about how you managed to find the egg. I think I might be ready to take it all in by then.”
Scrapper and Brains had to get back home for tea. Granddad solemnly shook the hand of each in turn and said a simple thank you. Alone with Jake, he said, “I dare say that was good advice that pal of yours gave me. Really safe place, eh!” He took the old sock and put the egg inside. He went upstairs. Jake did not follow him, but he grinned as he heard Granddad rummage under the bed.
Chapter Ten
Friday was Scrapper’s favourite day of the week - the last school day before the weekend. At playtime they’d had a kick around with Olly Stott’s football. Scrapper kicked Olly, accidentally on purpose, hard on the shins. He felt he had it coming. After that he felt better. “How’s Uncle Bill?” he asked with a grin.
Olly wiped his runny nose on his sleeve before answering. “Not feeling too good. He was clearing out the coalhouse nearly all last night. Made me help him, and it was pouring with rain.” He sneezed.
“Jakey’s Granddad is much better, you’ll be pleased to know. He really perked up yesterday afternoon. Got a lovely surprise.”
Olly didn’t say anything. He just limped away. Scrapper suddenly felt guilty. Without Olly, no doubt the egg would have vanished forever, and he couldn’t help who he had for an uncle.
He shouldn’t have kicked him - but that wa
s Scrapper - act first, think afterwards.
As they walked home after school, the gang felt a bit weary after the excitement of yesterday. “What shall we do till teatime?”
“Hey, I’ve just had a brilliant idea for a new game,” shouted Scrapper.
“Go on then.”
“No, you’ve got to wait. There’s things to get ready. You’ll need a big nail, and a hammer.”
“Sounds dodgy,” said Jakey. “Who’s going to get hurt?”
“Only you, if you don’t know how to use a hammer properly,” said Scrapper, huffily. He had a feeling sometimes that the others didn’t appreciate his good ideas.
They assembled in front of Scrapper’s house, or rather his half-house, because they lived downstairs and another family lived upstairs. The upstairs family had a baby that Scrapper was always complaining about – always howling its head off or smelling horrible. He couldn’t understand why Sally drooled over it. Girls – weird creatures!
Jake and Brains each held high a hammer in one hand and a six-inch nail underneath it. Jake had had to scrounge for both of them. Brains’ mother would never have let him loose with such dangerous implements. They might hurt his piano playing fingers.
They stood rigid, like statues, and stared at Scrapper.
“All right, cut the comedy, you two. I’ll be back in a minute.” He went into the house, soon staggering out again, balancing half a dozen dried milk for babies’ tins in his arms. They were big, tall tins, quite solid. He dropped them at his feet.
“I’m not playing with them,” protested Jake. “What do you think we’re going to do with them? Build big towers? Play drums, going bang, bang, bang with the nails?
“No, with the hammer. You need two big holes, one opposite the other, just under the lid. Go on then… two tins each.”
It wasn’t too easy knocking the holes. The round sides of the tin kept slithering away, just when they were ready to give a big whack with the hammer. Jakey hit his thumb, and yelled.
“Whew, good job it wasn’t me,” said Brains. “Mam would kill me if I hurt my hand.”
“She couldn’t get you to practice any more then,” said Jake, sucking his thumb. “And thanks for the sympathy.”
“I wasn’t speaking literally when I said she’d kill...”
“Oh, belt up, Brains and get on with it.”
Scrapper dug into his pocket and pulled out a big ball of string, all different sizes knotted together. He threaded a thick piece through the two holes, he added more pieces until he was satisfied with the length, then he knotted the two ends together. Jake and Brains had stopped working to watch. Finally, Scrapper put the two tins side by side, took the string handles and stood on the tins. He looked down on the others, and keeping the strings held tight he took a step, then another. He soon got quite good at it, and went off at a cracking pace. The others got going with the string, and soon the three of them were marching like robots up and down the pavements. Granddad came out of the house, jolly and laughing, “And whose clever idea was that?”
“His!” The others pointed at Scrapper.
“You have a very inventive mind, lad. You’ll go far.”
Scrapper was embarrassed. He wasn’t used to people praising him. He flushed red with pleasure. “Want a go, Mr. Finney?”
“Tempted. But not just now. I’m off to the shops. I’ve got to get the rations for your Mam, Jake.”
A car appeared at the end of the street. That wasn’t a very usual sight. Nobody owned a car where they lived, and the Doctor’s car was practically the only one they ever saw. The car stopped near Jake’s house. A man got out. He was very tall. He wore a close fitting coat with a big collar made of sort of curls of material, and a strange round hat of the same material.
“Astrakhan,” said Brains. “Looks a bit foreign.”
“Perhaps he’s a spy,” said Scrapper.
“Don’t think there’ll be many State secrets to be found in Nelson Street,” smiled Granddad. “Hey up, he’s knocking at our door. Come on Jake, let’s find out what he wants.”
The driver raised his hat, politely. “This is Nelson Street, Co. Durham, yes?”
“One of them,” said Granddad. “I reckon you’ll find a lot of them hereabouts. He was a famous chap, you know. National hero - we’ve got a Horatio Street, and a Trafalgar Terrace as well.
The stranger looked a bit bewildered. “I am looking for Tommy.”
“Sorry, there’s no Tommy in this street that I know of. Are you sure you’ve got the right town?
“The address, it is very worn. I cannot read the town. I have tried all the towns with a Nelson Street. This is the last.” He gave a long sigh, and muttered, “Sorry, Aunt Irena. No Tommy.”
Through Granddad’s and Jake’s mind flashed the same thought. “The Countess!”
Granddad gasped. “Of course. I told her I was a Tommy – the name for an ordinary soldier.”
The stranger pulled out a scrap of paper. The pencilled message was almost worn away. “You are Tommy? Then you are no ordinary soldier. My aunt told me all about you. You helped to save her life. I embrace you,” and he enfolded Granddad in a great bear hug that made him cough for shortage of breath.
Foreigners! thought Jake. He’d never actually met any before, so he supposed you had to make allowances.
“I’m Jacob Finney, actually,” said Granddad. “And you are?”
“I am Ivan Rostov, nephew of the Countess. Only Aunt and I are left now of the whole family. We are very close. When she knew I was coming to England she said, “Find Tommy - he was my friend,” and she gave me your address. She is happy in Paris, for there are many Russians who escaped there, but she thinks often of the old days. It was hard for her at first, she was ill, and she was poor. She gave lessons on the piano. But then I escaped too, and I am good businessman and soon I have money. I look after her.”
“Come in, Sir! Come in!” Granddad was flustered and excited. “You’ve come for the egg.”
Ivan looked puzzled. “I do not come for eggs. I will not take your eggs. You have very few for your rations, I believe. For you they are a treat, as you say.”
Granddad laughed, although he did not quite understand Russian humour. “No, not our eggs, Countess Irena’s egg.” He showed Ivan into the front room, and sat him in the easy chair. “I’ll get it for you.”
Softly, Jake said, “Be careful, Granddad.” He wasn’t entirely sure of this stranger and, since the episode of the egg theft, he felt very responsible for its safety.
“I have big ears, young man - in my work, I must hear everything.” The stranger smiled. “You think maybe I am not to be trusted. You are wary, that is good!”
Saying nothing more, he pulled from his pocket a large piece of rag, which he handed to Granddad. It was a faded grey with a pattern of tiny white flowers. “From the dress she was wearing when she reached safety, and until she got to France. She kept it until it fell into rags, then she kept the rags.”
Granddad didn’t say anything. He put the material to his cheek. His eyes were closed and he was smiling. “She was beautiful, even in that peasant’s dress. Fetch the egg, Jake.”
When Ivan took the egg that Jake offered him, he was astounded. “The Egg - the Fabergé Egg - she managed to save it, and she gave it to you.”
“Well, she said, ‘Keep it, Tommy’. I don’t know whether she meant ‘it’s yours’, or ‘keep it safe for me’. Wouldn’t have made any difference. I couldn’t part with it to anyone but her. So now you must take it back to her. You are going back?”
“Yes - tonight. My time is short. So now I must leave.”
Are you a spy?” breathed Jake.
Ivan smiled. “Let us say I am a secret visitor to occupied territory. I go back to France. Goodbye, my friend. One day we will all meet again. That is my promise. Come, Jake, you would like to sit in the car, yes?”
Jake didn’t need inviting twice. Out they went. He sat in the driver’
s seat, and put his hand on the steering wheel. Meanwhile, Ivan was filling in some sort of a form, which he put into an envelope and sealed.
“Listen carefully, Jake. The egg your grandfather kept so carefully all these years, it is becoming valuable. He could have sold it for a lot of money. I will take it back to my Aunt, as he wished, but he is the part owner. In this envelope is a cheque for his share. You must see that he takes it to the bank and gets money for it. He is a good - no, a great - man, your grandfather.”
Jake nodded in agreement at that, got out of the car, and waved as Ivan drove off.
Brains and Scrapper, who’d been waiting impatiently, ran up.
“Who was he?”
“Oh, just some foreign spy.
Chapter Eleven
And now Jake was 10. Double figures, wow! He’d had a party, with Scrapper and Brains, Sally and two girls from her class that he’d had to invite to keep Sally company. There were lots of cards, best of all one from Dad, which he’d given to Mam to keep on his last leave. He didn’t know where he’d be on Jake’s birthday. At the moment they didn’t know either. That made him a bit sad, but when Granddad brought in his present he cheered up. Nobody else in the street had a bike. Granddad had oiled and polished it until it shone like new. Jake was lost for words.
“Such an expensive present,” gasped Mam. Then she remembered that Granddad was now quite a rich man. He had finally told her the whole story of the egg. She could scarcely believe her eyes when he showed the amount of the cheque to her and Jake. “Look at all those noughts,” gasped Jake.
“Crafty one, that Ivan,” Granddad had said. “He knew I would never have taken it. Got our Jakey to do it for him. This needs careful thinking about. We’ll put it in my savings account till your Dad gets back. He winked at Mam. “- Apart from one or two little purchases.”
Mam had really gone to town on the party tea. There were sardine sandwiches with the crusts cut off; jelly and custard; money scones, with a coin wrapped in greaseproof paper in each one. Sally got the sixpence. Jake got a ha’penny, but he didn’t mind.
After tea they played Pass the Parcel and Forfeits. Even Postman’s Knock, which was just really an excuse to kiss the girls. Actually, it was the girls who seemed keen. The boys had really wanted to go out in the yard and try out Jake’s bike, but the girls all had their frilly party frocks on. Granddad provided the music on his harmonica and it was time all too soon to go home.
Next day was Saturday and Jake was at a bit of a loose end. Scrapper and Brains were both out for the morning. Granddad had gone off to town without even telling him. He was a bit cross when Mam said where he had gone. Still, it did give him a chance to have his new bike all to himself. He was still a bit wobbly, he hadn’t had a bike since the little red Mickey Mouse three-wheeler he had when he was a toddler. It was a lovely sensation, pedalling away in the open air. He went three times round the block, going faster each time, then he made for the wood behind the Wreck. First time he’d been there since that awful day of the egg.
Carefully, he propped up the bike against the tree. He sat down in front of the tree, on his favourite seat. He gazed through his half closed eyes. He waited - and waited . Nothing! He was looking at a knot in the tree trunk. He felt awful. Nothing! He waited, staring, without blinking. Nothing! He screwed his eyes up tight, and looked hard. No change! The knot was still a knot. No face, however hard he tried to imagine it. “Well, Jakey lad, you’re ten now. Things change.”
Did he imagine it, or just for a fraction of a second, was there a face, and did it smile?
In the afternoon, they all got together at the Wreck, taking turns with Jake’s bike. Even Sally had a ride on the handlebars while Jake pedalled.
“Look! It’s Jakey’s Granddad,” said Scrapper.
He wasn’t saying it as a warning this time, thought Jake. He seemed quite pleased to see Granddad, but what on earth was Granddad up to now? He was approaching pedalling a contraption made seemingly out of crates and bits of string. Good grief, what will he do next! He stopped by putting his foot on the gravel path and dragging it along. A wheel fell off.
He grinned at Scrapper, “Now get your inventive mind working on that, young man. I’m sure you can make a few improvements before you take it on the road. It’s yours.”
“Can I keep it, really?”
“Well I don’t think I fit on it very well. Besides, I’d look a bit of an old fool.”
Nobody contradicted him.
He took a bag from behind him. “Actually it’s my delivery van. I have some things to give to some very good children, to whom I owe a big thank you.”
He held out a brand new football, a proper one, to Scrapper. “Thanks, Scrapper, you’re a force to be reckoned with.”
He gave a thin leather box to Brains. “You’ll go far, with that clever brain of yours. I believe you were the Mastermind behind the rescue operation.” Brains blushed, and stuttered his thanks as he opened the box to find a real fountain pen, with a lovely mottled pattern case.
“Mustn’t forget my favourite girl.” He patted Sally’s head. “I believe you had a very important part to play, too.” Her box was quite big. When she opened it, there was the most beautiful doll, dressed in matching dress and bonnet, with eyes that opened and shut. Sally cradled her doll in her arms, thought for a moment, and announced, “I shall call her Finnella.” She gave Granddad a big hug.
“Hey, you’re almost as bad as that bear, Ivan.”
It felt like Christmas had come early.
At the edge of the Wreck, Olly Stott was standing, watching. Granddad shouted him over. “You come over here, young lad. I want a word with you.”
Scrapper rubbed his hands “Now he’s for it!”
Olly walked slowly over to Granddad.
“Well, what have you got to say for yourself?”
Olly looked too frightened to speak. He just shook his head.
“Nothing, eh? Well, I’ve got something to say to you. It took guts to tell what your Uncle had done, even though it might have turned out nasty for you. How brave to do the right thing, when you could have done nothing. You’re a good lad. Never forget it. This will help you remember,” and he gave him a leather wallet, a real, grown-up’s wallet, which was bulging with money.
“Count it later and use it well.” Granddad shook Olly by the hand. “You hang on to your dreams, young man.”
Well, how did you follow all that!
“I know,” said Scrapper. “Let’s have a game of footie with my new ball. Want to play, Mr. Finney?”
“Go on then.”
Granddad charged up and down with the rest of them, and he scored two goals. Then he sat down on the grass, gasping.“Think I’ll take up bowls. Right, I’m off now.”
At the end of the street, he stopped, gave a perfect Cossack leap and waved.
They all waved back, and Sally said, “You know what - he’s not Granddad Funny - he’s Granddad FUN.”
THE END
(21280 words)
*****
I hope you enjoyed the story. The background detail is authentic. I was a Wartime child in the North East.
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