Post by richardk on Mar 20, 2016 12:00:38 GMT
Theme words
Abbeyshrule
Winter
Freddie Miles
Clara Graham
Black cardigan Cycle helmet
Sloth
Wrath.
Roll of the die.
Uncle Declan was late. He should have been here by now. Clara had been waiting for him by the gate ready to claim him as soon as the taxi from the airport rolled up but she had come in because of the cold. It was unusual to have much snow in Abbeyshrule, but this winter there had been about ten normal year’s worth in one month. The ‘plane from Paris Beauvaix was a little one and so had to take its turn after the other planes waiting for clearance from the air traffic control. There was also the ritual deicing of the wings before taking off into the cold French sky, about three hours late.
‘I’m bored,’ she told her Aunt Mary, who was busy cooking a celebratory meal to welcome her husband home. ‘What can I do?’
‘Why don’t you do some drawing here in the kitchen with Niamh and me until your Uncle gets home? You can talk to us at the same time.’
Clara ran upstairs to get her pencils, crayons and the roll of white lining wallpaper that her Aunt had got for her to save buying small sheets of drawing paper. Clara enjoyed drawing and colouring and so got through a lot of paper.
‘Why are you so eager to see your Uncle anyway?’
‘When he was last home, he said he would take me riding when he was here next’
‘You’re horse mad, you,’ Mary laughed, ’I wonder if I can guess what you are going to draw now.’
‘Horses!’ they chorussed.
Clara had travelled over the previous week from her home in Exeter with her Mum, Susan. They both enjoyed spending time in Ireland and Mary was always glad to see her older sister and niece. It broke up the lonely weeks when Declan was away on circus business, arranging gigs across Europe for the next summer. Clara liked it in Abbeyshrule, especially when her cousin Niamh was home from school. Clara’s school was still shut for the Christmas holidays and she didn’t like moping around the caravan they lived in at the circus’s winter quarters outside Exeter. Her father was always busy with repairs after the summer touring season so had little spare time for her.
It was a very quiet village and Clara enjoyed wandering around exploring. She liked the ruins of the abbey on the banks of the River Inny. She especially enjoyed looking at the tourist boats on Royal Canal and talking to the tourists in the summer. Clara thought of County Longford as her second home now as they had been over most summers and for lots of visits in the winter. The only thing she really missed about being here was being separated from the circus horses in Exeter. The best thing, of course, was that she had her cousin, Niamh, who was her age, to play with.
‘Why do you always draw brown horses, Clara Graham,’ asked Mary, when she looked at the horses galloping along the wallpaper.
‘They aren’t brown, Aunty,’ said Clara, scornfully. ‘They are chestnut. I just like chestnut horses, the greys and bays frighten me a little but chestnuts are always friendly.’
Clara was mad about horses but Niamh didn’t like them much and preferred cycling. They often had friendly arguments about which was best.
There was a toot of a car horn outside the front door. It was the taxi bringing Declan from the airport.
The two girls rushed out to greet him and to argue over who was going to carry his case in. Niamh won, she was Declan’s daughter after all. ‘Will you take me riding tomorrow Uncle Declan?’ clamoured Clara.
‘Will you take me cycling Dad?’ insisted Niamh, not to be left out.
‘Give Declan a chance to get in the door, girls,’ laughed Mary. ‘I expect he is ready for his supper after such a long journey.’
‘I am that, to be sure.’ said Declan as they all sat down to eat around the big kitchen table.
‘How long are you home for this time, Declan,’asked Mary
‘I think I can manage a couple of weeks now,’ he said, ‘they can cope without me for a few days, don’tcha think now?’
‘You can stay as long as they will let you, Declan, you’ll get no argument from me,’ said Mary.
‘Same goes for us, doesn’t it Clara?’
‘It really does, I like having you here Uncle. Does that mean you’ll have time to take us horse riding?’
‘And cycling,’ said Niamh.
‘OK,’ laughed Declan, ‘I give in. I’ll take the both of you tomorrow.’
There were squeals of delight from the girls.
‘Are you ready Uncle Declan?’ said Clara as he wandered down stairs, half asleep.
‘Can I have some breakfast first?’
‘If you hurry,’said Niamh.
‘I can see that it’s going to be two against one all day. What are you two having for breakfast?’
‘Oh, we’ve had ours ages ago.’
‘I’d better hurry then, hadn’t I.’
Declan finished his breakfast and managed to keep the girls still long enough for him to gulp down a cup of coffee. They piled into his car and they were off. It wasn’t far, about twenty miles through the narrow Irish lanes and then they were there.
They climbed up and walked over to the horse, Clara stroked it. It was a chestnut, of course. Niamh looked at it scornfully as she put on her cycle helmet and clipped the strap under her chin.
‘I’m sure I can cycle faster than that thing,’ she declared.
‘We’ll see,’ said Clara, determinedly. Declan helped them up on to their respective mounts. They were off, slowly at first and then getting faster. Niamh was just behind Clara’s right shoulder when she took a quick glance behind her, her black cardigan streaming out in the wind.
‘I’m catching you up,’ shouted Niamh, over the wind rushing past them.
‘I don’t think so,’ yelled back Clara as the chestnut galloped on, faster and faster. ‘Beauty here is a fast horse.’
They rushed on neck and neck laughing as they sped on. They were both enjoying the speeding exhilaration - no sloth or wrath here. Niamh couldn’t quite manage to catch up with Beauty and Clara, however much effort she put into pushing the pedals around.
After a while, both Clara and Niamh were getting tired so they slowed down a little and then Declan’s cousin, Freddie Miles, shouted that time was up. Beauty slowed from a gallop to a canter, to a trot and then finally stopped. Niamh stopped pedalling and came to a halt at the same time as Clara. They agreed to call the race a draw.
They got off their mounts and wandered over to Declan who was chatting to Freddie. The girls thanked both of them and asked if they could have another ride on the carousel tomorrow.
Abbeyshrule
Winter
Freddie Miles
Clara Graham
Black cardigan Cycle helmet
Sloth
Wrath.
Roll of the die.
Uncle Declan was late. He should have been here by now. Clara had been waiting for him by the gate ready to claim him as soon as the taxi from the airport rolled up but she had come in because of the cold. It was unusual to have much snow in Abbeyshrule, but this winter there had been about ten normal year’s worth in one month. The ‘plane from Paris Beauvaix was a little one and so had to take its turn after the other planes waiting for clearance from the air traffic control. There was also the ritual deicing of the wings before taking off into the cold French sky, about three hours late.
‘I’m bored,’ she told her Aunt Mary, who was busy cooking a celebratory meal to welcome her husband home. ‘What can I do?’
‘Why don’t you do some drawing here in the kitchen with Niamh and me until your Uncle gets home? You can talk to us at the same time.’
Clara ran upstairs to get her pencils, crayons and the roll of white lining wallpaper that her Aunt had got for her to save buying small sheets of drawing paper. Clara enjoyed drawing and colouring and so got through a lot of paper.
‘Why are you so eager to see your Uncle anyway?’
‘When he was last home, he said he would take me riding when he was here next’
‘You’re horse mad, you,’ Mary laughed, ’I wonder if I can guess what you are going to draw now.’
‘Horses!’ they chorussed.
*****
Clara had travelled over the previous week from her home in Exeter with her Mum, Susan. They both enjoyed spending time in Ireland and Mary was always glad to see her older sister and niece. It broke up the lonely weeks when Declan was away on circus business, arranging gigs across Europe for the next summer. Clara liked it in Abbeyshrule, especially when her cousin Niamh was home from school. Clara’s school was still shut for the Christmas holidays and she didn’t like moping around the caravan they lived in at the circus’s winter quarters outside Exeter. Her father was always busy with repairs after the summer touring season so had little spare time for her.
It was a very quiet village and Clara enjoyed wandering around exploring. She liked the ruins of the abbey on the banks of the River Inny. She especially enjoyed looking at the tourist boats on Royal Canal and talking to the tourists in the summer. Clara thought of County Longford as her second home now as they had been over most summers and for lots of visits in the winter. The only thing she really missed about being here was being separated from the circus horses in Exeter. The best thing, of course, was that she had her cousin, Niamh, who was her age, to play with.
‘Why do you always draw brown horses, Clara Graham,’ asked Mary, when she looked at the horses galloping along the wallpaper.
‘They aren’t brown, Aunty,’ said Clara, scornfully. ‘They are chestnut. I just like chestnut horses, the greys and bays frighten me a little but chestnuts are always friendly.’
Clara was mad about horses but Niamh didn’t like them much and preferred cycling. They often had friendly arguments about which was best.
*****
There was a toot of a car horn outside the front door. It was the taxi bringing Declan from the airport.
The two girls rushed out to greet him and to argue over who was going to carry his case in. Niamh won, she was Declan’s daughter after all. ‘Will you take me riding tomorrow Uncle Declan?’ clamoured Clara.
‘Will you take me cycling Dad?’ insisted Niamh, not to be left out.
‘Give Declan a chance to get in the door, girls,’ laughed Mary. ‘I expect he is ready for his supper after such a long journey.’
‘I am that, to be sure.’ said Declan as they all sat down to eat around the big kitchen table.
‘How long are you home for this time, Declan,’asked Mary
‘I think I can manage a couple of weeks now,’ he said, ‘they can cope without me for a few days, don’tcha think now?’
‘You can stay as long as they will let you, Declan, you’ll get no argument from me,’ said Mary.
‘Same goes for us, doesn’t it Clara?’
‘It really does, I like having you here Uncle. Does that mean you’ll have time to take us horse riding?’
‘And cycling,’ said Niamh.
‘OK,’ laughed Declan, ‘I give in. I’ll take the both of you tomorrow.’
There were squeals of delight from the girls.
*****
‘Are you ready Uncle Declan?’ said Clara as he wandered down stairs, half asleep.
‘Can I have some breakfast first?’
‘If you hurry,’said Niamh.
‘I can see that it’s going to be two against one all day. What are you two having for breakfast?’
‘Oh, we’ve had ours ages ago.’
‘I’d better hurry then, hadn’t I.’
*****
Declan finished his breakfast and managed to keep the girls still long enough for him to gulp down a cup of coffee. They piled into his car and they were off. It wasn’t far, about twenty miles through the narrow Irish lanes and then they were there.
They climbed up and walked over to the horse, Clara stroked it. It was a chestnut, of course. Niamh looked at it scornfully as she put on her cycle helmet and clipped the strap under her chin.
‘I’m sure I can cycle faster than that thing,’ she declared.
‘We’ll see,’ said Clara, determinedly. Declan helped them up on to their respective mounts. They were off, slowly at first and then getting faster. Niamh was just behind Clara’s right shoulder when she took a quick glance behind her, her black cardigan streaming out in the wind.
‘I’m catching you up,’ shouted Niamh, over the wind rushing past them.
‘I don’t think so,’ yelled back Clara as the chestnut galloped on, faster and faster. ‘Beauty here is a fast horse.’
They rushed on neck and neck laughing as they sped on. They were both enjoying the speeding exhilaration - no sloth or wrath here. Niamh couldn’t quite manage to catch up with Beauty and Clara, however much effort she put into pushing the pedals around.
After a while, both Clara and Niamh were getting tired so they slowed down a little and then Declan’s cousin, Freddie Miles, shouted that time was up. Beauty slowed from a gallop to a canter, to a trot and then finally stopped. Niamh stopped pedalling and came to a halt at the same time as Clara. They agreed to call the race a draw.
They got off their mounts and wandered over to Declan who was chatting to Freddie. The girls thanked both of them and asked if they could have another ride on the carousel tomorrow.