The path is wide enough for three of them to walk abreast in comfort. As they proceed the path seems to close up behind them, the hedges and thicket quickly grow towards each other. Small animals poke through and watch the group with interest.
Billy sees the old man before the others do. The man is standing still, his face framed in greying hair, his tweed jacket and plain grey trousers are well-made, but, like him, showing signs of age. When Billy reaches him, he stops. Rex keeps going and trots past him. Billy looks up, the man is smiling, kindly-shaped crow’s feet span out from the corners of his eyes.
“Hello there, young sir! I’m Mr Gadriel Sharpie, pleased to make your acquaintance! You look like a busy young fellow. These your friends?”
Billy nods and the three catch up with him. Daisy and Peter are bickering about nothing.
Peter says, “Well I don’t see how, I mean, if you listened it might be different, you know you’re not always right.”
“My dad always says if you want to go somewhere you need to know where you are going,” Daisy replies.
Peter looks at her, straightens up his glasses and huffs.
The old man smiles.
“You lot must be hungry, day like this. Tell you what, my lunch is on and while I don’t have much I’ve more than enough for the four of you, even a little bit for Mr Doggy over there.”
“Rex, come ‘ere!” Rufus yells. Rex ignores him and sits down.
The old man points down the path.
“See there? That’s my little cottage, I was just gathering some twigs when I noticed you.” Sure enough, the outside pocket on his jacket is bulging with little sticks.
Billy glances at his three friends. He’s hungry: a Curly Wurly will only get you so far and he’s just heard Rufus’s belly growl. He looks from the cottage to the old man, who looks lonely, and Billy’s gentle heart melts just a bit. There’s plenty of time, why not?
“Sure, that’d be nice,” he says.
Daisy is about to cut in but Billy looks at her quickly and she decides to stay quiet.
*
It takes them a while to reach the cottage as Rex is as slow as Christmas, as if he just does not want to go anywhere near the cottage. It is thatched, very pretty, with ivy creeping up the walls and a half door that’s painted bright pink. The door knocker is polished brass and in the shape of a ship’s anchor. The old man opens the door and welcomes the motley crew inside.
Rufus asks, “Can my dog come in?”
The old man replies immediately, “Of course, all the Lord’s creatures are welcome in my home,” and smiles kindly.
Rex lingers for a while at the door. In the end, Rufus yanks at his collar – a black leather studded number with a metal disc that spells his name as ‘Reximus’ – and pulls him in, his paws scraping along the floor.
Inside the cottage, the walls are painted white. There is a big Aga range facing them where there would have been a large hearth at some stage. Several pots bubble on its top. A big oak table sits to the right with mismatched chairs and patchwork cushions. To the left are two doors and a simple wooden staircase.
“Sit yourselves down and tell me all about you,” the old man says gently. He moves across to the range and starts stirring the stew that is in one of the pots.
“I’ve never seen you in the village before,” Daisy says.
“Oh I keep to myself,” he smiles. “You are a very pretty young lady, bet you don’t miss a thing and I’d say brains to boot.”
Daisy sits up straight.
“I did get nine out of ten in my maths test, best in the class.”
The three boys roll their eyes; Daisy is insufferable when she is top of the class – this happens quite frequently.
“I thought as much, clever girl. Are you minding these three fellas?”
Rex walks over to the doors on the left and starts sniffing; his nose pokes along the base over the saddle. He nudges the door at its corner but it is closed fast.
Daisy replies, “Sort of, I mean, they’re OK I guess, we’re…”
Billy cuts in. “Out for a stroll, and well then we saw the path and here we are.”
“We’re on an adventure,” Peter says. Billy glares at him but says nothing.
“An adventure you say! Isn’t that a fine and glorious thing, the Lord be praised, he moves in mysterious ways. So who’s for stew?”
All four nod; they have each realised just how hungry they are. The old man lifts the lid off the pot and stirs assiduously. The stew smells delicious; the scent wafts throughout the room. The old man ambles over to a cupboard and takes out some shallow bowls. Just below the counter, he pulls out a drawer and selects forks and soup spoons. The cutlery is put on the table while the old man places the bowls down on a cool part of the Aga. He ladles a couple of spoonfuls into each bowl and carefully hands the generous portion to each child.
As they are tucking into the stew, Peter glances up at the old man, who is watching them with delight.
Peter says, “Aren’t you having any, Mr Sharpie?”
The old man shakes his head.
“It does my heart good seeing you enjoy my food, best compliment ever. I’d rather watch ye eat than eat myself.”
Rex has turned his back on the side door that so intrigued him and is now watching all humans, his tail is low. Rex has an unscrupulous look in his doggy eyes. The stew is nourishing and warms them up no end, so much so all four have ruddy cheeks by the time they are finished.
“I do love a good adventure, keeps the heart ticking nicely wouldn’t you say?” Mr Sharpie says.
Rufus is looking at the pot; it would be rude to ask for more when it wasn’t offered but it was very good stew.
“I say, what class of adventure is it, something an old soldier such as myself could get stuck into?”
Billy looks at Mr Sharpie.
“You were a soldier, where?”
“First battalion, Gunner Sharpie they called me, was always getting my mates out of trouble, just missed out on the Victoria Cross, got a special commendation for my bravery though. I was always the man to have at your back,” he nods firmly.
“Son, what is it you are looking for?” Gunner Sharpie finishes, looking directly at Billy.
Being called ‘son’ generates the strangest feeling. There was only one person who called Billy son and it has been a very long time since Billy has heard the expression. Billy lifts his gaze from his bowl and stares at Gunner Sharpie.
“It’s just a trip really.” Billy pauses, weighing up in his honest mind how much to tell. “A trip to the Golden Gate,” he finishes.
“The Golden Gate, you say? There’s many a folk as want to get there, easier said than done…”
“Have you ever been there, Mr Sharpie?” Daisy interrupts.
“Oh, no, not me, my wife went there, never came back…” he pauses. “Searched for her I did, to no end. She was a fine woman.” Gunner Sharpie’s eyes mist over as he recalls her memory.
“Erm, oh..” Daisy rocks slightly in her chair, clearly uncomfortable at this revelation but Billy jumps in, his heart again dictating his brain.
“Mr Sharpie, I’m sure she will come back, we will look for her on our way.”
“That’s awful nice of you; you are a good boy. What’s your name?”
“Billy, I’m Billy, this is Daisy and Peter and Rufus.” Billy gestures each of his friends in turn. Poor Mr Sharpie could do with some nice friends.
“I have some custard and rhubarb crumble…would you like some? I like to cook and it’s all the sweeter when I get to cook for such a fine young bunch of, what to call ye, adventurers!” Gunner Sharpie beams.
Custard and rhubarb crumble, that is just too good to pass up. Peter gathers up the stew bowls and cutlery. A couple of the spoons fall to the floor, clattering on the flagstones. Daisy hisses and jumps up to get them. Rufus is still looking at the stew pot – he looks like he has fallen in love.
“Now, Billy? Will you just dig out some of the little bowls from that press,” he gestures. “Just there.” Billy walks over to the press and pulls out the bowls, he hands them to Gunner Sharpie.
The pudding is delicious, so much so it turns Rufus’s affections away from the stew. Too soon, the bowls are empty and all four young faces look just a bit crestfallen. They are each too polite to ask for more. Gunner Sharpie appears to be unaware.
Billy rises from his chair.
“Mr Sharpie, that was really nice of you but me and my friends need to get going. We will look for your wife, promise.”
Gunner Sharpie’s face breaks into a grateful smile.
“Son, you are such a good boy. May the Lord watch you.” He ruffles Billy’s hair and then grips and gently squeezes his shoulder. “A good boy.”
Rex barks quickly and runs at the front door. He hasn’t had any stew but doesn’t seem a bit bothered by that. He wants to get going. He jumps up at the door trying to catch the latch with his paws but he can’t budge it.
Billy picks up his backpack and follows Rex to the door, briefly looking back at Gunner Sharpie.
“Promise.” Billy nods, lifts the door latch and follows Rex out. His three friends follow him.
Peter rights his bike and clacks along.
“Billy, hold up. Billy!”
Gunner Sharpie watches them as they go, a slim smile appears and vanishes as quickly as an extinguished flame. He turns back into his cottage, the front door closes quietly behind him.