Storyteller by Colin & Anne Brookfield (top inspirational books .txt) 📕

The hire car that the hotel had arranged for them arrived promptly as they finished breakfast. “My convictions on what I consider to be reality are taking a hammering,” remarked Alan as they arrived at the harbour. “Your sketch matches the harbour details exactly.”

The ‘Tipan’ aspect was not so forthcoming.

“Interested in snakes are you? That’s one of Australia’s deadliest,” became the common reply to our enquiries, but it was Robin who eventually came up with the goods. She had slipped away and worked her charms again on another Harbour Master.

“I’ve got what you want to know,” she chirped, “and the man had thrown in a tin of lager for good measure. I must have made an impression. Berth 168 is what we want and with a bit of luck, a small sailing vessel called the Tipan, will be tied up there.”

“You’re a wonder! However, we must take care,” Sarah reminded them, “I have three names – Samoa, Pago Pago and Blacky”. I feel there is great danger there.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Alan, “it’s a good job I came along.”

The Tipan did not by any means grace the general ambience of the expensive private vessels berthed nearby. Alan led the way, and the three clambered onto the Tipan’s deck. They were met by an unshaven man who had heard them boarding.

“Wodya want?” he demanded in low Australian. Robin took over with another one of her wildly ambitious schemes.

“Where’s Blacky? I want to see him,” she insisted.

“Ow jer know about ‘im then?” the man replied.

“It was you and Blacky that boarded the Berin yacht, and murdered a young lady called Pippa Langley, then you also stole four thousand U.S. dollars from the crime scene. Your fingerprints are now on record, so if I don’t get some answers quick, the police will.”

“Owjer know all this?” the man replied in a voice quickly acquiring some grovelling overtones. “It was ‘im, Blacky, that forced me ter go along, “He’s got the girl. She weren’t murdered.”

“Where do we find her?” demanded Alan.

“Bout 35 km back in the bush,” he replied.

“Get in the car and show us the way,” Alan instructed. As their car made its way along the harbour road, Sarah noticed a parked police car and two officers nearby, so she asked Alan to pull over to the side. The police seemed rather bemused when informed of the impending rescue.

“You can’t do that sort of thing,” one of them replied, “that’s police work. Now show me some identity and we can continue this discussion at the police station.

“No we bloody well won’t!” she spat out. “We didn’t travel all this way from England on this pursuit just to be pushed around by do it by the book coppers. If you mess things up I’ll make sure it gets into the national papers. Now we are on our way and if you’ve got any sense, you’ll follow.” She left the two men with their mouths gaping at her audacity.

Alan said nothing as Sarah rejoined them in the car; he saw she was still shaking from the row they had seen her having with the officers.

It wasn’t long before the man directed them onto a rough bush track that took them through rocky ravines, and long stretches flanked with rainforest.

“There’s someone following us,” said Robin grinning, “and guess what! It looks like a police car.”

“Stop, ‘ere it is! Don’t miss it. It’s under that big fig tree,” shouted the man gruffly, as they then drew to a halt with the police car alongside.

“If this turns out to be a wild goose chase,” growled one of the officers, “then you bloody Pommes won’t be seeing dear old England for a while, I promise you that.” The police then pushed a partly open door into the old ramshackle wooden building. There were some loud curses and threats from the police, followed by three struggling figures emerging. But there was no Pippa.

They followed the police car with their prisoners back to the police station. That space of time, allowed them to get a story together that would leave Alan in the clear over Pippa’s disappearance and her illegal entry into Australia.

They had discovered that Blacky was of Samoan origin and from a place called Pago Pago. He had been very unhelpful to the police until reminded, that he was the last to see Pippa according to the testament of his partner in crime, and therefore, in the frame for murder, with or without the body. After that Blacky became very helpful.

“We had to take the girl, she saw our faces when we boarded the Berin and took the money.”

When Alan was asked by the police why the girl’s disappearance from his yacht had not been reported at the time, Alan lied and said he thought Pippa had taken the money and escaped in their spare dingy. Moreover, he had then blamed his own silly misjudgement of the girl and thought it best to put the unsavoury business behind him.

It transpired later that Pippa had become quite ill, and Blacky’s mother had been caring for her in the family house further back in the bush.

Pippa, Sarah, Robin and Alan finally all came together for the first time at Pippa’s hospital bedside two days later. Her mother was already winging her way to reunite with her daughter in Australia.

When she was well enough to be released from hospital, Alan paid for the return journey of Pippa and her mother back to England and during the long flight from Sydney, they were able to share their stories and compare notes.

Alan sat beside Robin for the whole journey home and discovered how much they had in common as intrepid adventurers.

On landing at Heathrow, they were met by Tom and Michael, who couldn’t wait to hear the final outcome. Pippa and her mother then took a domestic flight home to Glasgow, but not before exchanging telephone numbers in order to keep in touch.

A book offer on their collective inputs and experiences was already in the offing, and new friendships made that would endure. Robin even got a headline in a British national paper.

THE MET HAVE MET THEIR MATCH

Robin and her merry band of followers, as they have now been described, have been pivotal in finding Philippa (Pippa) Langley, the English girl who had been reported missing in England. It had been discovered eventually that she had been abducted a few months ago from a yacht on the Australian Coast. The search was initiated by Sarah Buick and Alan Roberts who are friends of Pippa.

Of course, the funnier sides of the saga were all told again several months later at Tom Landsworth’s restaurant. They were all there, Pippa Langley and her mother Marjory with Sarah and Melody, Mike, Tom, Robin and the rest of the Berin’s crew.

The greatest surprise was Alan’s announcement that he and Robin had become engaged. They then passed a photograph around that had been taken on the Berin with Robin’s boat in the background.

Tom had taken Melody’s hand saying, “That makes three engagements at the same table,” and a great cheer went up.

Ned had just been bought by a kind lady, and that night when his stable door had been closed and darkness was falling, he looked around his new home which was comfortable and quiet, with plenty of sweet smelling hay. Suddenly he was startled by the rustle of straw in the next stall. He was not alone.

“Goodness!” he exclaimed. “You gave me a fright. Who are you?”

“Welcome. My name is Ben, but I’m rather infirm now because of my old age. Well, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ned. But wait a moment! Did you say BEN – Ben from the Great War? Your name is whispered with wonderment as the last to survive. I would really love to hear your story?”

“Of course, but let’s leave it until tomorrow. Tonight we should get some rest.”

On the evening of the next day, Ben peaked into Ned’s stall and found him waiting to hear of his exploits.

“Now where shall I begin?” he said thinking carefully. “Oh Yes! I should really start from my working life in the coal yards, I pulled great heavy carts, but my master whipped me constantly.”

“That’s awful! You must have suffered terribly.”

“He was brutal Ned, and I admit, I almost lost the will to live. However, after many years, I was sold at auction and bought by a kindly man who put me to lighter duties, so through the following years, I recovered my strength and pride.”

“But how did you get to that terrible place where the fighting was?” Ned enquired.

“With my master as a friend, they were precious times for me, but war was soon upon us and it wasn’t long before there was a knock on his door from the army procurers. They took me and other horses from farms everywhere, and packed us aboard ships to a place called France where we were taken into the war zones to work. The incessant noise of shouting and guns was excruciating, and the smell all around was dreadful. We were all terrified, but we could do nothing; we lost our names and they put army numbers on us.”

Ned listened in stunned silence as Ben continued.

“The horses poured in and out in multitudes. We all knew that horses should return to a warm stable with oats and hay at the end of the day, but few of those horses I met, ever returned. Eventually I was sent to the front line with others, pulling great heavy guns, and we slithered from place to place in great seas of mud. My stomach churned at the things I saw; horses lay dead or horribly injured all around me in pools of blood.”

This was very difficult to listen to, but Ned felt such great compassion for this kindly and forgiving old horse, that he begged him to continue.

“I need to pass on your story to all the younger horses down through time so that it is never forgotten,” he stressed.

“I understand,” replied Ben as he continued. “From this dreadful carnage, I was suddenly moved away to a horse transit section – far away from the guns, where I remained until all the fighting was done. I was one of the few lucky ones to be repatriated and returned home with those that survived – all of whom were older than I. They were completely dispirited and left with terrible anguished dreams for the rest of their days. Many of the horses that were not repatriated were killed for their meat, or sold to locals to be eaten.”

Ned shuddered, and asked how many horses there were.

“Over two million horses perished in that mire Ned, and all the other survivors have now finally died, I am the only one left to tell our story, but there is hope on the horizon for us.”

Ned asked what he meant by that.

“Humans are inventing machines with wheels which will take our place on the battlefield. So the future of our kind may not be so grim.”

Ned thought for a moment then asked, “But why did Big Horse in the Sky saddle us with such a