ALBERT

Having worked out how the interlopers were able to cross the railway without any danger of being caught, Roddy felt very pleased with his efforts and was already rehearsing how he would describe his discovery to his friends and bask in their approval of his fine effort. But he was about to be greatly surprised. This chapter introduces an older man who befriends Roddy and opens up completely new views on the world around him.

In today’s society there is suspicion of older men befriending young children and an automatic assumption that there is an underlying nefarious purpose behind the friendliness. The following chapter in the story and more chapters to come, describe a completely innocent relationship that greatly expands the experience and knowledge of Roddy and his friends and eventually leads them on a great sailing adventure.

But that is something to look forward to in later chapters of this story. Enjoy the new chapter and I hope you find the character of Albert to be an interesting one, just like Roddy does.

Read and enjoy.

Copyright 2019 Robert F Heming 

 

Roddy relaxed, rejoicing at his success in finding the route used by the City gang to get across the River and railway and relieved at not being caught by anyone from the railway. So, it was a great shock when he felt a hard tap on his shoulder. He had not heard anyone and he jumped nearly out of his skin and then froze in fear. Turning slowly around and fearful of what he would find he saw the angry face of an older man in shabby brown baggy pants, a navy-coloured waistcoat that was unbuttoned and flapped against his sides and a striped flannel shirt with no collar. The sort of old clothes that adults liked to wear when they were gardening.

“Are you the little bugger who has been stealing my raspberries?” said the man in a stern tone.

Roddy looked up at him in consternation. Where did this man from and whatever was he talking about?

“Come on, you thieving tyke, tell me the truth. Come on now!” said the man who now had a firm hold of Roddy’s coat collar. His face was close to Roddy’s and the smell tobacco smoke on his breath was very strong and he looked quite frightening with his grey hair and the stubble of a beard against his red and angry face.

Roddy stuttered in reply, still trying to get over the shock of this man creeping up on him, and desperately trying to understand his questions.

“ I d-don’t know what your talking about I haven’t done anything. I’ve never even been here before,” said Roddy.

“You’re one of that gang of young troublemakers I’ve seen coming through the allotment gardens and walking along the railway line. Since they’ve been hanging around the allotments I have noticed that my raspberry bushes are looking thin and the other blokes here have been complaining too. We never had this problem before, so it must be you lot”.

“B-b-but I have never been in your garden” said Roddy, “and I wouldn’t take your berries. I don’t steal from gardens”.

That was not strictly true, as he and his friends had often gone scrumping for apples in the lanes that ran behind the gardens in the Village. There the tree limbs were heavy with apples and as they hung over the walls slightly it was quite easy to heave someone up high enough to pluck some. In the twilight time it was almost impossible to be seen and besides it was not as if they were in someone’s garden and as the apples were practically hanging in front of them it did not seem at all like stealing.

“Really, this is the first time that I have been here. I was following some boys who I saw playing in the fields on the Village side of the line. I just wanted to find out how they got over there, that’s all. This is the first time that I have been over here, honest!”“Where do you live?” said the angry man.

“I told you, I live in the Village, not over here.”

As this last remark sank in, the man seemed to relax a little and he let go of Roddy’s coat collar and stood back a little and looked him up and down.

“Hmmmn, alright, maybe you are telling the truth. You certainly don’t look like those young toughs that I saw here a few days ago”.

“Those boys just came over here a few minutes ago. That’s why I was coming through the fence just now. I was just curious to find out how they crossed the railway without being caught”.

“You were lucky that you weren’t caught just now. I heard the man shouting and that’s when I looked over and saw you coming down the bank from the line. I thought that you must be one of them. What’s your name then?”

Roddy didn’t know whether to be truthful or to give a false name in case this man wanted to report him in some way, but he didn’t seem to be too bad once his gruff manner of a few minutes ago had softened, so he decided to tell the truth.

“Rhodri “, he said. “But my friends all call me Roddy.”

“Well Roddy” said the man, “you had better be off then, but you need to stay away from the railway as it is dangerous there”.

Roddy decided that this man was not too bad as adults go. At least he was willing to listen unlike some of the other adults that he had come across and his anger of a few minutes ago had abated considerably, though he still seemed rather gruff.

“I don’t know how to get back to the Village without going back the same way. How would I get there from here without crossing the railway? Going by the road would take me a long time.”

“Well, you’re right, going back along the roads will take you much longer. But I really don’t want to encourage you to go back over the line. Lately I’ve seen a few men on the path that look like railway police to me and that fireman who shouted at you might have already alerted them. You don’t want to be caught by one of them and show up at your front door with a copper by your side. Your wandering days would definitely be over then. Look, you don’t seem like a bad sort, give me ten minutes or so to finish off some work and I will give you a lift home in my old car.”

Roddy was so relieved that he let out his breath in one big snort. He knew that this man was right to be cautious about the railway and as an adult he could not encourage children to break the law. Still, having come across the line he didn’t think it was that dangerous. The only part where you could be seen was the part of path that crossed the River on the railway bridge. That was not too long and having done it once he knew exactly where to get off the path to duck out of sight beneath the bridge. He could sprint along the path and be out of sight in no time at all. It would just take a careful check to see if anyone was around before running as fast as he could. But now was not the time to argue so he nodded that he accepted this gruff man’s offer.

“So, what do you do here in your allotment garden? Do you just grow raspberries?”

“Oh no, that would not be very interesting at all. I grow lots of other things too. Come on, let’s back to my plot so I can take care of it and you can see for yourself then.”

 

The man turned and began to walk toward the centre of the allotment gardens and Roddy followed. This man seemed OK, he thought, and was reasonably friendly once he realized that the disappearing raspberries had nothing to do with him. Besides he did not seem to like those other boys any more than Roddy did, so he just might turn out to be a useful ally. He also would have seen the gang and might be able to tell him more about them, perhaps where they came from and how often they came through the allotment gardens on their way to the River crossing.

 

They walked in single file along the narrow paths between the allotment gardens. He was amazed at what he saw, as there were few allotments on the Village side of the River. Most of Roddy’s neighbours had well tended garden plots at the end of their gardens, behind regularly mowed lawns and perhaps some fruit trees. The allotment gardens by the fields where they played were really just extensions of the existing gardens. These allotments were very different, much more elaborate and the plots were all carefully tended, with the soil neatly piled in ridges around the potatoes and the rows of beans all carefully staked. Many had a small shed in one corner of the plot that Roddy guessed was for storing tools.

When they reached the man’s garden he was even more surprised at the neatness and the variety of vegetables and fruits that were grown there. Not only potatoes and beans but also peas and lettuce and cabbage and then there were the rows of raspberries and even gooseberries. The biggest surprise of all was the small plot of flowers in one corner containing flowers that Roddy did not even recognize.

Everything was neatly kept and there were no weeds, which surprised Roddy because he thought that a lush growth of weeds was a natural part of every garden. In his back garden they grew in luxurious profusion until once or twice a year his father would make him dig them up; a miserable job that he disliked intensely except for the part when they could pull all of the dried weeds into a pile and set them alight, and shroud the garden, and those of their neighbours, in a smoky haze that caused housewives in the adjacent houses to run out and, between sharp glances at the smouldering fire, pull their drying clothes off the line. Here in this allotment garden the weeds were all cleared out and piled up in a symmetrical heap.

The biggest surprise of all was the small shed in one corner of the garden. It had a tiny window covered in chicken wire on the side overlooking the plot and an overhang at one end to create a small sheltered area where a rough plank of wood, supported on two battered cans, made a crude bench. The shed impressed him, as this was den making taken to a much higher standard. Even the bench was better than anything that his gang had constructed in their den. Of course this was the work of an adult who had money and the ability to get hold of wood, good tools and other useful things that he and his gang could only wish for.

“Well “ said the man, “What do you think of my little garden? By the way my name is Albert. What is yours again? I was so sure that I had found the boy responsible for stealing my fruit that I didn’t really make an effort to remember it.”

A man using his first name shocked Roddy. In his family he was required to call even some of his father’s best friends, whom he has known for years, by the formal “Mr.” followed by their surname. For a moment he was uncertain of how he should respond, as this sort of easy familiarity from a stranger was so unusual.

Finally he managed to blurt out, “Call me Roddy, I’m pleased to meet you”.

“Well Roddy welcome to my little garden. It’s small but you would be amazed at how much I can grow in it. I get most of my vegetables from here and I rarely go to the greengrocer to shop. Just the odd vegetable that I don’t have room for and of course some of the more exotic fruits that won’t grow here for one reason or another. But tell me why you were following those young boys. I don’t think you gave me a reason.”

Roddy launched into a long explanation of his Gang and their fields and how they were the only children to play there until these boys from the City made a den in their fields.

“Me and my friends couldn’t work out how they got over the River and the railway and into our fields. I was watching for them and I followed them when they left to go back to where they came from. I needed to know how they got to our fields. So, that is why I crossed over the line and came to be in these allotment gardens. This is the first time I’ve done that,” he replied in an aggrieved and defensive tone. “But those other boys must‘ve been over the line many times as they’ve built a pretty fancy den on our side. Besides, you don’t really cross the line as the best way is under the river bridge and it is only at the end that you have to climb on to the railway embankment and risk being seen using the path alongside the railway to cross over the River”.

Albert looked quizzically at him. This boy was not like the cheeky thieving types that he usually had to deal with. They were always very quick with the back talk and often swore as well, even to adults. But this one seemed polite and honest.

“So, this really is the first time that you have been over here then and you’ve never been in these allotment gardens before?”

“No, I have seen these allotments from the other side of the River when me and my friends have been walking across the Lamby, but we never thought about coming over here as it did not seem very interesting. It looked as if there were too many grown ups here and nowhere for us to play on our own without some grown up telling us off.  Besides we didn’t know how to get over here.”

“Tell me what you and your friends like to do then, do you like to play sports and go to the park?

Roddy looked at Albert in disbelief. Did all grown ups think that the only thing that children liked was to play games. Didn’t they know about dens and the Saturday morning cinema?

“Yes, we do play football sometimes but we prefer to play in the fields and build our dens and climb trees. We like that a lot more than just playing football or cricket all the time. We don’t really like the park very much either, because the “parky” is always there and if you start to do anything that is fun he shouts at you. It is also full of mums with their babies in prams and if we start to play with balls they tell us to stop or move well away. Adults are always spoiling any fun and we can’t climb any of the trees in the park either.”

“So what do you do over the Lamby then”, said Albert with a grin, do you ever play in the River?”

He looked at Albert in surprise and horror. Playing in the River was out of the question as all their parents told them that they must never do that and if they did they would get their clothes muddy and that would not pass unnoticed. Besides, everyone knew that the mud on the banks was dangerous and would swallow you up.

“No! We’re not allowed to play anywhere near the River. If my parents found out I would be banned from playing in the fields as well. “

Alfred looked at him in surprise. “But the River is so much fun. You kids don’t know what you are missing.
Come, let me show you something, it won’t take long and I have a better idea about getting you home than having to take my car and get through all the Saturday traffic.”

With that Alfred got up and began to walk through the allotments toward the River. Roddy followed behind on the narrow mud paths between the gardens as he turned first one way and then the other, eventually leading him out of the maze of allotments and onto the salt grass tidelands that lay along the River bank. Then leaving the River bank they cut across the narrow neck of one of the many great bends in the River that developed as it left its confined valley and wandered across the last mile or so of flatland to the sea. Ahead of him Roddy could see the tops of some masts poking above the bank. He had seen the boats that these belonged to. They were all moored to buoys that were green and slimy with mud, yet somehow the buoys were anchored to the riverbed. He had often wondered how these boats were able to sit on the riverbed at low tide and yet float freely at the very highest tides.

After a short walk they were on the bank and looking down at the boats at anchor. The tide had been running for some time now and the boats were all facing down river in a line but moving slowly from side to side in the swiftly moving current.

“See that trim little yacht in the middle of the row there. That little beauty is mine and I can sail her anywhere I like. That is why the River is so much fun. Would you like to go on board and take a close look?

Roddy nodded his head. He had never been on a sailing boat before and the one that Albert had pointed at did look very trim and well cared for. But he wondered how they would get out to the boat in such a river where the change in water level between high and low tide was so great? There were some small rowing boats on the grass but how could you use them when the tide was out and there was a deal of mud to get over was a mystery to Roddy.

He turned  to ask, but Albert was already stooping down and untying the rope that held one of the small rowing boats. In one quick movement he turned it over and there inside were two oars that were fastened to the seats by other ropes. Quickly he untied those and reaching into a locker beneath one of the seats, pulled out two metal rowlocks. Roddy knew what they were called because he had read about them in one of his books. But this was the first time that he had actually seen rowlocks and how they slotted into the holes in the side of the boat. Albert pushed the small boat toward the edge of the grass where the river mud began.

As soon as the small boat was balanced on the edge he turned to Roddy and said, “Get in then”.

Roddy looked at Albert in surprise. What a day this was turning out to be with lots of shocks and strange twists.

“But what are we going to do, this little rowing boat is still too far from the water” he said in disbelief.

Albert looked at him with a playful smile and pushed the boat a little further until it rested mostly on the mud with only the prow of the boat still sitting on the grass.

“You’ll see. Now, hop in and sit on one of the thwarts and hold on tightly” With that Roddy stepped clumsily into the little dinghy which rocked beneath him making him fear that it would turn over and dump him into the mud. Albert laughed at his clumsiness and told him to grab the sides for balance. Finally, he was able to get to the seat that Albert called a thwart and was sitting firmly in the boat. After shouting to him to hold on tight, Albert began to push the dingy down the slope of glistening mud toward the swirling water of the river. Roddy noticed that Albert had replaced his gardening shoes with rubber boots but he still wondered if he would sink into the sloppy mud that everyone knew would suck you in if you tried to walk over it. Amazingly, he didn’t sink but continued to walk and slide down the gentle, but slippery slope toward the water. Roddy could see that he kept his balance by his grip on the dingy but why wasn’t he sinking deeper into the mud.

Finally he could contain himself no longer, “Why aren’t you sinking into the mud?”

Albert raised his head and laughed loudly. “Everyone thinks that the river mud is like a thick slop and that you will sink out of sight in it but it isn’t like that everywhere. The thick sloppy mud only lies in the dips where it can collect. Everywhere between it’s just a thin layer of soft mud over the top of hard mud, so as long as you can keep yourself away from the dips and stay on the higher ridges you can walk on it.  Of course you will go in over your ankles in places, but as long as you have a good pair of rubber boots like me, or waders, that will not trouble you. Did you think that I was going to sink out of sight?” Albert laughed again until he started to wheeze and had to stop pushing the dinghy to regain his breath.

His laughing finally sputtered to a stop and he smiled at Roddy, “You really did believe that I would sink, didn’t you. Whatever gave you that idea? You’ve been reading too many stories about people sinking in quicksand. That is completely different to this. So stop worrying!”

With that Albert gave a final push so that the little boat slid into the River. Quickly, and with remarkable agility, he pulled himself into the dinghy, set the oars in the rowlocks and began to row with short powerful strokes toward the yacht anchorage.

“But everybody says that the River is a dangerous place to play and all our parents keep telling us to stay away from it because the mud is so thick and soft that it will suck you in and you will not be able to get out and the tide will come in and you will drown”.

The words tumbled out of Roddy’s mouth as he felt a rising sense that by believing the talk of his friends and parents he was somehow being foolish. Perhaps he should have thought about it more and maybe even tested the idea by probing the mud.

“Look, this River has been used for thousands of years by various people in their boats. Did you know that the Vikings used to come into this river and trade with the local people as well as raid sometimes? It is thought that the name “Lamby” is Nordic just like the names of those two islands in the Channel; Steep Holm and Flat Holm. The word “Holm” is from the Vikings. They seemed to not be bothered by the mud and the strong tides as they brought their boats well up the River, almost to where the railway bridge is today. It is perfectly safe as long as you know what you are doing and where the real dangers lie.“

Roddy looked toward the Channel and could just see the two Islands that Albert referred to. Of course, he had known the names of the islands and thought them unusual but it had never occurred to him that their names might tell something of their history. He felt a sharp sense of embarrassment at his ignorance and his apparent inability to question things. He always read a lot, especially the encyclopedias which took up so much space on the only bookshelf at home. It now struck him that not only did he not really know much, but also that he was perhaps a little bit lazy in not asking more questions rather than just accepting the things that he was told.

“But how do you know these things Albert? Where did you find out about the Vikings? None of the adults that I know have ever said anything about that to me. Ever!”

“Well, I’m just very interested in such things and so I ask lots of questions and when I cannot find answers I go and look for them. We have a very good library in the center of the City you know, and there are lots of very clever people at the University too. You just have to know where to go. But first, you have to want to know about things and not just be prepared to accept whatever people tell you. You would be surprised at how little most people know about the world around them, or how much they think they know that turns out to be just flat wrong.”

Roddy was surprised by what he heard. He knew that his father seemed to know a lot and his sister was an avid reader who always had a book close by. But now that he thought more about it he realized that they did not seem to ask a lot of questions about things either. Albert was the first person he had met who seemed to take a deep interest in the world around him. He looked again at the two islands out in the Channel. One was indeed quite flat although it seemed to have cliffs surrounding it. The other was of a much different shape and rose steeply from the sea forming a large egg shaped bump. The names fit so well and he could see the sun was casting a much larger shadow behind Steep Holm. Why was that? Suddenly he realized and cried out “What time is it”.

Albert detected a note of panic in the question. “Why it’s already past four o’clock”, he said looking down at the large silver watch that he had pulled from the pocket of his waistcoat.

“FOUR O’CLOCK !! I have to get home” cried Roddy in a voice of near panic. “I should have been home hours ago and my mother will be looking for me. I am in a lot of trouble now. What will I say and how will I be able to get home from here? It will take ages to walk back and then I have to get across the railway again without being seen. I should have gone back as soon as I had crossed the railway and worked out how the enemy gang was getting into our territory. Oh dear, I won’t be able to go out for a week as punishment for this. My mother will be so angry.”

Albert looked on with sympathy and some amusement as his young friend verbally berated himself, groaning as he thought about the reception that would be waiting for him at home.

“Alright, then we had better do something about it then. Seeing as we are close to my little boat, I’ll row around it so that you can at least get a close look. Going aboard will have to be done another time. Look, the tide is still setting and there is a good current on the River. Once we get around my boat I’ll row you up to the bridge that crosses the railway at the bottom of your road. Would that help?”

Roddy looked surprised. He had never come across this sort of sympathetic response in an adult before.

“But rowing up river will take ages. Won’t it be faster if you took me over to the other bank and I just ran home.”

“No, no, my way is better. You will be surprised at how fast we can go.”

 

Albert, who Roddy noticed had been rowing against the current as he angled toward the anchored boats, pulled under the stern of his own yacht and pointed out its various features.

 

“She’s got a comfortable little cabin and I can control the mainsail from the cockpit here at the stern. Instead of a tiller, she has a wheel attached to the cabin bulkhead.”

Roddy nodded as Albert spoke. His yacht did look very interesting and he would have loved to have gone on board and explored it thoroughly, but anxiety over his lateness spoiled his enjoyment. Albert saw that his young friend was not fully concentrating.

“Come on then. I can see this is no time for even a quick tour of my boat. Let’s get you home.”

He pulled on the oars so the little boat shot under the stern of his yacht and emerged on the far side of the line of anchored vessels. Then he pulled hard on one oar to turn the little rowing boat until it was pointing upstream, and began to pull the on the oars in an even rhythm. Soon they were in the center of the river and past the anchorage. Carried along on the pale brown muddy waters of the incoming tide and by Albert’s powerful strokes on the oars, the little rowing boat sped along at a rapid pace. Roddy was fascinated by Albert’s rowing. Leaning forward he placed the oars in the water, and then in one smooth muscular motion, heaved on them so powerfully that Roddy could feel the little boat lurch forward with each stroke.

“You look ahead for me and tell me when I am steering too close to the banks,” said Albert. “That will save me having to look over my shoulder to check my course.”

Looking ahead at the winding River he told Albert to steer left or right as needed. He was proud that he had realized on his own that the directions needed to be reversed for Albert as he was facing downriver. Albert noticed and gave him a nod of approval that made him feel very satisfied. The tide was still running strongly and they coursed effortlessly upstream. He had often watched the tide come in and noticed that it was fast but sitting on top of the speeding current and watching the banks seemingly flash past made him realize its true swiftness. He mentioned this to Albert.

“Well, the Channel has some of the highest tides in the world. They say that only a large inlet in eastern Canada has higher tides. Take a look at a map of the Channel and what do you see?”

Roddy knew the answer to that one as he spent hours on wet days tracing the outlines of coastlines and rivers from the Atlas that belonged to his father.

“The Channel is shaped like a funnel and it gets narrower as it gets closer to the mouth of the River Severn”.

“That’s right buttee, and that means a lot of water is being forced between the closing shores and rivers like this one gets a lot of water pushed up it in a short time. If you ever watch the tide come in over the mud flats near the mouth of the River you will see what I mean. Now there’s a dangerous place. Lots of people have been trapped on those flats by that speeding tide and lost their lives. That’s a place where you need to be very careful, or better yet not go at all.”

They had rounded one large loop in the River and were now approaching the loop with the island in the middle that was close to the railway bridge. The loop was dry except at the height of the tide, which must be about now as the water was flowing around the island. Albert glanced over his shoulder and began to pull harder on his left oar.

“I’ll land you on the other side of the island. There should be enough slack water over there so that I can maneuver the dingy more easily and get closer to dry land and a patch of grass.”

Roddy was not sure what he meant but sure enough as soon as they were inside the loop of the River in which lay the island, their speed slackened and Albert began to look for a place to land.

“Over there”, he said, nodding his head toward a small creek that cut the bank. “We should find a nice dry spot there so that you can jump ashore without getting those shoes of yours any muddier than they already are.”

Albert pulled hard on his right oar and the dingy turned toward the small inlet that he had spotted and soon they were running up it and sliding over the mud and onto grass. Albert pulled one oar from its rowlock and used it to push the bow of the dingy further onto the grass. “There you are“ he said, “ That should be enough. Now stand up carefully and hold onto my shoulder then step over the thwart and into the bow, steady yourself and make a big jump to the dry grass.”

Roddy did as he was told. The dingy rocked beneath him but they were far enough onto the grass that it was stable enough. He steadied himself in the bow and held on the small post that stuck up from the prow, put his feet on the sides very carefully and then slowly stood up before launching himself at the drier grass. He landed and fell forward under his momentum, catching himself with his hands. The dingy with Albert in it had been given a sufficient shove from his big jump that it was already moving back into the deeper water. Albert had an oar in his hand and was poling himself further out. He put the oar back into its rowlock and paddled in reverse to get far enough away from the bank before spinning the dinghy around so the bow of the boat faced away from shore.

Albert raised his hand in a farewell salute before turning to pull out of the backwater and into the main stream.

“Goodbye young fella, it was very nice meeting you. Come and see me in my garden someday but do be careful as you cross the railway and stay off the tracks.”

Pulling out into the main stream of the River he turned upstream instead of going back to his yacht anchorage.

“Where are you going, Roddy shouted through cupped hands, that’s not the way to your boat.”

“I know, I’m going to take the dingy up to my garden and pull it out there. The current is too strong to row against and I will do some more digging for a while and then take it back to the anchorage once the tide turns. Bye, and good luck with your Mother”.

With one last wave, Roddy turned and headed up to the gate that closed off the track across the railway bridge.