Chapter 1
Grandfather was mad, the children knew this. His madness came upon him one day, in the dunes that swept out for miles at the back of their house. The dunes where encased between the broad river on their left and the sea on their right.
One day when walking his dog he came across the end of the rainbow. Immediately he saw the end of all his labour, and started to dig for there is gold at the end of the rainbow. Dark clouds swept across the broad river and large drops of rain fell upon his broad back. Then a bolt of lightning struck him.
Grandfather survived the bolt of lightning. However he was permanently deranged for he had lost the gold at the end of the rainbow. Physically his left leg, which had earthed the bolt of lightning, was permanently crippled, and from then on he walked with an exaggerated limp.
But grandfather was a stubborn and contrary man. The small farm that he had owned gave just enough return to keep his small family’s head above water. Now being crippled an unable to do a full day’s work, the family started to go under.
He looked for someone to blame his misfortunes on. All the well-dressed solicitors told him, that being struck by a bolt of lightning was considered an act of god. Grandfather however was undaunted, and he started litigation against his local church, as they were God’s representatives on earth. The solicitors were bemused, but they smiled and took his money anyway.
He lost most of his money to the solicitors, and God was never brought to book. He would always rage to their father that the rich and powerful were always above the law in this land. Grandfather eventually had to sell his farm, and he brought a house that backed onto the dunes. Grandmother died, the children’s father took over the house, and got married. Their mother gave birth, first to a girl Catherine, and then little Tom. Their father laboured in the land his father had once owned, mother worked part time in a local shop. Grandfather never died, as if energised by the bolt of lightning he remained spiky and belligerent. He sat by the back window of the house and glowered at the dunes. The children were much afraid of him.
Little Tom and Catherine would spend hours playing in the garden and in the dunes at the back of the house, with Brandy their dog. Sometimes they would play explorers looking for a pot of gold. This was their favourite game when they and their father and Brandy went walking in the dunes. It was a family joke the story of grandfather and the gold. One that grandfather was not allowed in on as he looked at them angrily.
Most days, however, they did normal children things while grandfather glowered at them from the back window. Sometimes when he spoke especially angrily little Tom would sit on Brandy, who was a big powerful dog, a cross between a boxer and a Labrador, and say to him “You can be my minder Brandy” in a sorrowful voice. At such time Catherine would show maturity beyond her years and coax him with a winning smile saying, “Look little Tom, you know how he is, he is angry with everyone and everything.”
Little Tom would smile at the phrase little Tom since although he was two years younger than Catherine he was already a wee bit bigger than her. Then mother would come home and pour oil on the bruised egos and placate the angry humours of grandfather.
One day something strange happened. They heard the whistle of a train, and the puff of black smoke by the broad river. They knew there was an old railway line that ran from Quorms disused quarry to the mouth of the river. They had often walked along the embankment with Brandy and their dad. The girders and the slats between them could be seen in most places clearly still, although they were somewhat covered in a layer of soil and grass. This track they had used to haul boulders from the quarry to the mouth of the river to stop it silting up. It ran along the river bank, where it curved gently round the black forest, before making its final approach to the river mouth. It however had long ago fallen into disuse.
Their father said the walk along the river bank in the early hours of the morning, with the weak morning sun reflecting its yellow light of the water of the river, flocks of dunlin and duck paddling in the shallows and a lone curlew’s pecking in the mud for tasty morsels was one of the most beautiful walks in the world. Mother said he was prone to exaggeration.
“What was that?” Catherine looked towards the sound.
“Don’t know” Tom said shrugging his shoulders.
“Let’s find out.”
“Should we ask grandfather?”
They both turned to look at grandfather’s silhouette in the back room window. It made up their mind for them; he could call them back if he wanted to. A magpie squawked from the top off the roof where grandpa sat silently looking out at them.
