DIFFERENT TERRITORY
not by the author of Swallow and Amazons
CONTENTS
I LOST?
II WELCOME
III THE VISITOR
IV EXPLANATIONS
V PREPERATIONS
VI THE JOURNEY
VII AN ARRIVAL
VIII ABSENT FRIENDS
IX ANOTHER SURPRISE
X JOHN'S PLAN
XI TREKKING
XII TITTY'S DISCOVERY
XIII RETURN JOURNEY
XIV DISCOVERY REVEALED
XV FAREWELL
AUTHOR'S NOTE
The last of the adventures of the Swallows, Amazons, Ds and their compatriots is recounted in 'Great Northern?' This was, it has been suggested, a tale invented by the characters themselves in the same way as 'Peter Duck' and 'Missee Lee.' So after 'The Picts and The Martyrs' set in 1933 we know nothing of them, and of course then war intervenes, six years in which all of them have their individual adventures. By 1947 their lives have, in the main, settled down and some of them are brought together, all in their twenties, adults ready to pursue new paths in their lives. This tale tells of their crossing paths and its consequences.
A resident of Secret Water.
2013
TO
J FOR MAKING MY ENTIRE LIFE WORTH LIVING.
CHAPTER I
LOST?
The speeding Land Rover with a female driver and one female passenger, the only vehicle anyone would have seen in the hills that afternoon, suddenly braked and pulled off the dirt track in to a narrow turning that led after a short distance to the gated entrance of a field.
"We're lost you tame galoot!" Nancy, who was driving, shouted at her sister, Peggy, in the passenger seat who was holding an unfolded map spread out on her knees.
"No we're not, just keep on this track!" Despite her feeling of indignation, the war years had taught Peggy not to be so in awe and, on occasions such as this, intimidated by her sister as she had been during their childhood. Nancy grabbed the map from her almost ripping it, looked around at the Welsh landscape that surrounded them, she made a mental note of the position of the higher hills to the starboard side of her, vehicle or no vehicle things were always port or starboard, then glanced at the map. A quick glance and she thrust it back to Peggy and then furiously changed gear, released the handbrake and pulled away back on to the track.
"Of course, that last turning, why didn't you say!" Nancy shouted at Peggy, who knew there was no point in answering. This would be the closest Nancy would come to admitting her mistake to Peggy and that she had been right all along.
The Welsh hills and mountains in the distance, and the river and lake ahead of them, reminded them both of their childhood home, Beckfoot and the lake, that part of the world they were always sorry to leave and would return to as often as they could possibly do so.
For a short time they travelled in silence. Nancy then spoke, as if nothing had happened.
"So what news of the others?" The war had ended nearly a year ago, and though they had all kept in contact through those troubled years Peggy was the one of the two sisters who made the effort and wrote to everyone, Titty in particular, passing on what she heard in reply to Nancy.
"John says Dick still won't talk about what he did in the war, he just wipes his spectacles as always and says 'that will have to remain an enigma', but he's got a new job, he now works for Lyons."
"The 'Lyons'? What! In a Corner House?" Nancy joked about it as she often did when stuck for something to say
"No, in some kind of research, something about an electronic office, John says it doesn't make any sense to him but it does mean Dick may have to go to America."
"You always tell me about John first!" Peggy felt herself blush, and knew that Nancy, though ragging her, was trying to get more information from her. "Mother says he visits Beckfoot quite often when he's on leave!" Peggy continued, ignoring her sister's teasing.
"I'm sure he'll tell you more later on. Dot's still writing government pamphlets and information leaflets but, she plans to give it up and leave when her novel is published."
"When will that be?" Dorothea was always talking about her novels and how some publisher was really interested, all of which usually came to nothing.
"Oh, next month."
"At last! Her and her romances!" Peggy knew that behind this mask Nancy would be proud; her fondness for Dot had grown since they first met during the expedition to the North Pole on the lake many years before the war. The Land Rover continued to bump over the dirt track and Peggy still occasionally looked at the map.
It was now late afternoon, and it had been a warm but mostly cloudy day. Nancy had driven enough for one day and wanted the journey to end, and so meet up once again with their oldest friends.
The cottage John had the use of was near a river, not the lakes but it would do, new territory for all of them, those that could make it. Susan, as so often, could not get away from her duties in the navy, whatever they might be; they all knew she had worked hard for her officer rank in the war and was equally determined to hang on to it. John knew from his own life in the navy it was best not to ask too much of what she was doing. Titty, of course, would be there, nothing ever stopped her when any of them suggested any sort of gathering. The bond that had been forged between them all in childhood those years before seemed to be stronger than ever for her. She had survived the war apparently more by luck than design, spending it both worrying about the fate of the others and having a good a time as she could to try and make the whole thing bearable. Despite the bombing she stayed in London and managed to become part of a social circle that was, to the others, clearly beyond her means. Roger, well, they all thought about Roger. He was still in hospital after returning from the Far East after VJ Day a year ago, of all of them Titty visited him most, but the progress of his recovery was slow. Like all the other Swallows Nancy and Peggy missed Roger's humour and his delight in larking about even at serious times, despite being irritated by such behaviour on many occasions all those years before. It was not the same without him.
The track came to an end at a 'Y' junction with a river on the left that followed the left fork for a few hundred yards. They could see a stone bridge in the distance that took the track away from the river leaving the left-hand one running by it. Peggy instructed her sister.
"Left here and then on about a quarter of a mile, there's a track off to the right." Nancy followed Peggy's directions driving at speed but without recklessness. There had been no chances to sail when she was on active service but learning to drive military vehicles properly at speed had been an enjoyable, and useful, second best.
The cottage at last came in to view, and as they approached it the river widened so that if you had not followed it you would have thought you had come upon a lake, not for Nancy and Peggy like the lakes of home but a lake nonetheless. The stone building was set slightly back off the track and as they got closer they could see on the opposite side there was a wooden jetty leading out in to the river. A small boat, sheeted for protection with a shabby tarpaulin was moored up and immediately reminded them both of Amazon in the boathouse at Beckfoot awaiting their occasional return. Peggy folded the map; Nancy pulled across to the flat rough ground in front of the cottage, parked the Land Rover and turned off the engine. Before either of them could climb out the door of the cottage opened and John was there, Titty behind him clearly eager to get past.
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