The Amazing Adventures of Gal in Fantasyland

By William Whitfield

This is a fictitious autobiography of fantasy.
The hero faces a rocky road to follow; at all times faith and honour are at stake where he has to trust advice given to complete his quest. Not all advice is good. This book is mainly humour with an atmospherically charged feel of well-being to it. A few high jinxes here and there don't go amiss.
The hero starts off thinking that he can run before he can walk; this is never so. He has to learn from scratch. As the journey goes on, he starts to realise this. There are a few surprises and laughs in store especially in the last chapter which holds more reasons why the quest has to be completed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781528970815

William Whitfield

William Whitfield has enjoyed growing up in the countryside of Cheshire and Staffordshire and reflected on his remarkable journey to date. He started writing over 20 years ago since his school days. This has resulted in The Amazing Adventures of Gal in Fantasyland for all readers to immerse themselves in and experience for themselves… Traveling to various parts of the world has inspired William, and the colours of the world can be felt through the journeys of Gal.

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About the Author

William Whitfield has enjoyed growing up in the countryside of Cheshire and Staffordshire and reflected on his remarkable journey to date and started writing over 20 years ago from his school days. This has resulted in The Legend of Gal in Fantasyland for all readers to immerse themselves in and experience for themselves… Travel to various parts of the world has inspired William, and the colours of the world can be felt through the journeys of Gal.

Dedication

To Mum and Dad, Uncle Brian and Auntie Netta.

In 1992, I said to Mum and Dad that I am writing a book, and I acknowledge this book is dedicated to all my family.

I give special thanks to John and Annie for their help with my cataracts from the recent past.

I dedicate this book to all fantasy fans who like a story with humour, suspense and surprises, with an atmospheric feeling to it.

Copyright Information ©

William Whitfield (2020)

The right of William Whitfield to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528941624 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528941631 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781528970815 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2020)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgment

I have to thank countless people from my long, distant past right up to the present. Some friends wish to remain anonymous—thank you for your guidance and help and inspiration that you gave me in order to write this book. You have informed me that I am the only one to write this book; to get it published is another matter. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it, thank you so much.

Here are a few words of warning and good advice. Try not to read this book in a confused state of mind or at inappropriate times. If you must, so be it. Remember, read with responsibility.

If not at some point, for some reason or other, you might get a thwack resulting in a little bit of a sore head, you have been fairly warned—it is up to you. Now let us begin and see what happens when this rollercoaster starts up.

An Introduction to the Introduction

In order to get a book published, an interesting picture on the cover tells part of a story within itself, combined with a resounding explosive title. Regardless of the name of the author, known or not, catches the eyes of potential customers, the book then has to captivate, enthral, wow, surprise and entertain the individual. An unknown author must show that the work done is worthwhile publishing.

Putting yourself as the hero will drive you onwards supporting him and you will realise that you can achieve an almost impossible task, it does not matter how long this takes, after all, Rome wasn’t built in a day. At times, the hero is a bit like the proverbial Jonah going to Nineveh.

Making the impossible become a reality takes true grit determination and faith. Put yourself on a magic flying-carpet rollercoaster, following a meandering river shimmy sparkling and dancing over the rocks giving you gentle floating lifts that charges the enthrallment. Some bits are nail-biting and tension adds to the suspense of what is going on. What does not seem relevant for the now becomes so later.

A magnetic force keeps you on the carpet so that you don’t fall off, now you can’t put the book down, for you are intrigued to find out what happens, as the story unfolds you find out. Take a trip down memory lane to nostalgia road where feel-good times are abound from fond memories.

Our hero faces a rocky road to follow, at all times, faith and honour is at stake where he must trust advice given to complete his quest, not all advice is good. This book is mainly humour with an atmospherically charged feeling of well-being to it. A few high jinks here and there don’t go amiss.

Some readers automatically visualise themselves as the hero. With some people in the book, the hero has to gain their affections before they accept him as a friend.

The hero starts off thinking that he can run before he can walk, this is never, so he has to learn from scratch, as the journey goes on, he starts to realise this. There are a few surprises and laughs in store especially in the last chapter which holds more reasons why the quest must be completed.

I believe that GOD has asked me to get this book published. HE gave me the gift of inspiration, drive and the passion for the love of creative writing, HE gave me the whole script to this to be published as is, done this way shows obedience TO GOD, trust and faith is a must IN HIM.

All I want is to honour GOD for this book by getting it published, HE has authorised this to happen. Everything in this book is relevant to what is going on, this is a fictitious autobiography. Have faith and trust me on this, I trust and believe every word OF GOD.

William Whitfield has enjoyed growing up in the countryside of Cheshire and Staffordshire, and reflected on his remarkable journey to-date and started writing over 20 years ago from his school days, and this has resulted in The Legend of Gal in Fantasyland for all readers to immerse themselves in and experience for themselves… Travel to various parts of the world has inspired William and the colours of the world can be felt through the journeys of Gal.

Chapter 1

A Chapter Introducing You to Gal

A friendly skeleton wearing a dark-red robe with the hood drawn slightly over his face, puts on the record; On a storytellers’ night then sits down on a red leather Gothic style armchair with brass lion heads on the arm ends, in front of a merrily blazing fire, for the night was icy cold. He lights up a large storytellers’ cigarette, in other words, a joint, and after a couple of breaths, he begins to tell a story.

Today is the present time where a tale is about to be told from the early 1970s. Back then, there were no plasma TV sets, or the very expensive executive toys that we now have, let alone the internet.

A thunderstorm had just started. The lights flickered on and off. A huge flash of lightning turned the house into darkness. The only light was from the fire and candles having to be lit for the storyteller to continue telling his story.

Many flashes of lightning spectacularly lit up the night sky, a little like a light show at a concert or a fireworks display, rumbles of thunder broke the silence.

At last, the storyteller opens his book and starts to narrate his story. "Hello, children, are you sitting comfortably? Good, then I shall begin. After all, we are someone’s child. Excuse me a moment. Gal is interrupting. I think he might have something to say. Whatever it is, hurry up. I have a story to tell. You are stopping me.

"No Gal, this is not the radio programme, Listen with Mother. This is the twenty-first century. I am surprised that you remember that one from all those years ago. No, this is listen to the skeleton storyteller, for I have a feel-good story for all to enjoy.

"Now, please sit quietly and behave yourself and don’t interrupt again, or else, there will be big trouble and you shall be in its deep style, not only from me but from all those present. They are looking daggers at you, thinking, do be quiet, we want a story, from now on, you are being given silence, in anticipation.

"Good evening, one and all, welcome. This evening, I have an interesting tale to tell you. Come on and gather round, sit down and put your feet up, and relax and get warm. Tonight is a perfect night for a story of fame, fortune and adventure. These adventures pass through lands where monsters might be freely roaming through them. Other lands show a friendly outlook in hospitality.

"Most of the time, lands are peaceful where he could relax and have some fun with friends and enjoying what he could, sometimes, this was not so, in the blink of an eye, confrontations have to be dealt with causing our hero to think and act fast out of dangerous situations that he faces.

"At times, it will be hard to tell where our hero is. Along the way, there are many pitfalls and dangers where great losses can occur, so great care must be taken at all times. The rewards are far greater than all losses, if in doubt, some careful thought must be given before action.

"Other times, spontaneous actions have to be carried out where life could be in danger sometimes, this might appear to be reckless. A true spirited hero sees the journey through to the very end, no matter what happens, for all journeys have to come to an end sooner or later.

"This quest is a matter of honour, obedience, faith and trust. One day at some point, our hero has to face death in which he has to be fully prepared and ready to face. Be aware at all times to be put to the test. Have you got what it takes to go all the way? You say that you have. Now go ahead and prove yourself hero.

"Failure is not an option for him. There are warnings of what will happen if he does. These warnings are very grim indeed and not to be taken lightly in any way at all, lest he forgets he gets a few reminders to bring him back to his senses, sometimes causing him to throw teddy out of the pram and go into a mega sulk.

"Do not forget, it is not going to be an easy quest for our hero to see through to the very end. Fortunately, he has good friends that try their best to help him with advice and words of encouragement, however confusing things can get for him.

"At the same time, there are many things out there that try to stop him from completion by discouraging or fighting him. Temptations come his way in many different forms. Can he deal with them?

"This adventure may take some time to complete. How long this all takes, I can’t possibly tell you. One day, something very big is going to happen to him. When it happens, he will realise this there and then. Then he has to make vital decisions. Now a strange unpredictable tale is about to begin.

"Long, long ago, before the dawn of a new age began, before the mists of time swirled round the lands, stood heroes whom have been long forgotten where only stories of Hercules, Pegasus and the siege of Troy as well as paintings that hang in galleries, not forgetting the statues in museums and other heroes of myth and legend.

"No, I am talking of a real living hero called Gal, and the events taking place during his adventure and how it all began. One day, he discovers something that causes great interest to many people, especially family and friends.

"Where our hero goes, his fame quickly spreads far and wide. Sometimes, he is a bit reluctant to seeing his quest to the end. With a lot of encouragement and sometimes a bit of reverse psychology, we shall see how far he gets. Most of the time, he is quite happy with things the way they are. Sometimes, he does get fed up and vexed. When this happens, it is quite funny to witness.

"On the journey, he faces some terrible monsters that spring out at him from nowhere and a battle or fight breaks out, or a thorn in the side sometimes causes him to go amok for a short time, on the odd occasion, advice given to him can trigger this off to a fine display of throwing teddy out of the pram.

"Some of the time, he has great fun partying and joking about with his friends and sharing stories of his adventure where temptations of all sorts dangle their wares at him trying to stop him from completing his quest.

"Many dangers are ahead of him trying to deter him from completing his mission, so take heart and put your best foot forward, one step at a time, stage by stage, then we shall see how you fair up then step up the pace. With all the best will, with good luck, may you be true and faithful to the quest that you face ’til the end!

"With each encounter, he is slowly learning new things that he has to accept. Other times, he sees this and thankfully accepts it. It helps make things a little easier. A few times, his outbursts cause a bit of amusement. In some cases, he gets asked for encores of these amusing tirades.

"For him to succeed, time and patience is needed along with courage and determination along with a great deal of thought put in. I have said sometimes spontaneous actions are a must. Then we can find out what happens to him. There are many twists and turns and unexpected events taking place.

"Very soon, Gal is to go on an adventure of a lifetime. Wherever he goes, sometimes he might have no control over getting there. Wherever he goes, he tries to make a good impression. Sometimes, this is not so or appreciated until later on, until then, he has to put up with some flack.

Before I carry on, Gal is interrupting again and asking me to ask you if you are five hundred years old. If you are younger, stop reading. You are not old enough. By law, we have to have these age restrictions. You must obey the law at all times. Otherwise, you might get in trouble.

The storyteller continues, "Gal, quiet please and stop being daft. We know what you are like. Oh dear, very well as you have started you may as well carry on. Please ignore Gal. He is like the glove puppet, Basil Brush, always interrupting the story and delaying things, five hundred years old indeed, whatever next? I ask you this, stop talking rubbish and be quiet. After all, who is telling the story, you or me? Yes, it is me.

"Oh, by the way, Gal, if you interrupt again, I shall put gaffer tape over your mouth and stop telling the story. Then no one can enjoy this tale. Then everyone would be very cross with you and you will be sent to bed and you won’t get any food. Then we all can enjoy this story in peace without any more interruptions from you.

"Mentioning Gal, who is he and what is his quest and where is he from? Now we know a little bit about him. Hopefully, with any luck, we can find out what happens and how the quest begins. Now that he has settled down and behaving, we can discover some more about him and find out what happens.

"Gal is sometimes reluctant and a harmless joker with a larger than life sense of humour, is quite tall and muscular with a long Jimmy Page hairstyle, with a big sparkle of life with a hint of mischief to go with a cheeky grin that warrants a ballistic barrage of scolding that would bounce off a duck’s back.

"Gal called himself Gal because his mum and dad named him Gordon Alan Lawton. He took the initial letters of his name in which he preferred he thought it more apt and refused to answer to the latter. To some, they had to get used to this. The rest took to it like a duck to water.

"When someone called him Gordon, it was exactly like talking to thin air by getting no answer. It was when someone actually for the first time called him Gal, he responded by the big thumbs up. After that, he profusely insisted on being called Gal. At that time, he was at his first week at school, aged four or five.

"To keep the peace wherever he was at home, school or play, everyone called him Gal which pleased him very much. His teachers had to agree to his demand in order to get him to learn things in class. The rest gave up and surrendered to this or they would not hear the end of it.

"By the way, I am very old now and my memory is a bit vague on some things. All I can do is try my best to recall on what happened aided with the notes I have here. These notes are a scrawl, just like a drunk spider dipped in ink going for a walk across a sheet of paper, so please I ask you to bear with me. After all, I have said this happened many years ago.

"My apologies for some inaccuracies that may be in this tale, for there is so very much to go through from half-garbled messages or hieroglyphics for me to try and decipher and putting them in the right order takes time and effort to sort these things out.

"Interesting things can happen where good times and bad times can happen at the same time. This could cause some confusion along with fun and games for him to cope with causing him to use his wits sometimes far too quickly for his liking, much to his annoyance.

"We shall see how he copes and what he does to combat his enemies when he confronts them. I think that if zombies, werewolves or vampires were brought in to this story, it might make it a bit too far-fetched and be a bit silly, making a true story fictitious and unbelievable, but I suppose that’s the way it goes and has to be.

Now the story is about to begin. I promise you this is a true story not a word of a lie. I swear that no fingers are crossed behind my back, promise you on that one as well this is an honest and a true account of what happened many years ago from what I have been told.

This all began in the year 1969, on New Year’s Eve at Halton, a sleepy village where Gal lives, near to Luxton town where he studied. University was on Christmas holidays. Gal was studying archaeology and geology. He loves rock music reggae, nature, astronomy, food and socialising. He has friends in different towns, cities and many other countries.

Kala, Gal’s girlfriend, studied art ancient history and classic literature. She lives in the same village as Gal, for the holidays, she got herself a job at the Wimpy bar in town. She would slip Gal extra chips and sundries. He would flicker his eyes at Kala, giving her a look that says I am starving and a growing lad. You would not want me to stunt my growth due to the lack of food or fall down a drain like Mary Jane due to my skinniness.

She replied, ‘As it’s you here, you are a growing lad indeed. Ha, ha, ha, very funny indeed. Where do you put it all? Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Oh, I know. You have hollow legs. Your mum would back me up on this and you know it. It is a wonder that you don’t get fat or your tummy doesn’t go pop.’

Other comments he got about food and eating were given in jest. It’s a wonder he’s not fat like Billy Bunter or Fatty Arbuckle, a walking two-legged waste disposal unit or this is better than watching the chimps’ tea party at the zoo. You have to pay to see that. A single Gal against a dozen chimps, there would be more mess with Gal.

Watching Gal eat is free entertainment as you can imagine, sometimes, this can get a bit messy at the rate he shovels food into his mouth, even trying to talk to him whilst he eats is pointless due to no response. He would reply between mouthfuls of food, Can’t talk, eating.

At lunchtime, he polishes off what we can’t finish and still wants more. Sometimes, seconds are not enough. Has he got worms? Or put a bib around his neck, what a mucky pup he is. Does that remind you of anyone from your past or present? Have a think over this and see what names come to mind.

Gal’s mum, Tina, worked in a dental surgery with Jean, Kala’s mum, his dad, Martin, a company director in a large printing company. Kala’s father, Mr Peterson, a high court county judge, did not like or approve of Gal or his friends. He called them you and your cronies or other derogatory phrases like beat nick or dregs of society.

He called Gal a long-haired idle flea circus hippy layabout, until one day later, on which would be a big surprise for many people. Both Gal’s brothers and sister fully supported and stood up for him, saying that he is a great help with school work and playing football with them. Kala’s brother, Kevin, agreed that Gal is cool and great company.

Chapter 2

1969, New Year’s Eve, a Birthday and a Lucky Find

In a few hours, it would be 1970 where a New Year’s Eve party was in full swing at the Lawton’s. Gal was having a great time with his family and friends playing a few daft silly party games. Passing the orange by neck-to-neck caused a few blushes and giggles from all the guests, with comments of, in the arms of a human octopus, someone save me.

To make things more interesting and fun, the use of hands was not allowed where extra forfeits had to be performed a little later on. Unfortunately, Mr Peterson got caught cheating, where a little later on, a game of forfeits proved to be very entertaining indeed and hilarious for all, except for Mr Peterson.

Mr Peterson’s forfeit was to play horsy with Gal as rider for thirty seconds, done under the orders of Mrs Peterson. He was not going to like this at all. Far from it, he was praying that a big hole would appear swallowing him and reappearing him by the tables of food.

On the order of ‘Gee up, Neddy’, poor old Mr Peterson had to neigh like a horse. You could see the anguished look of pain and horror and displeasure on his face. Time immoral said it all, like a fish out of water gasping for breath or he had swallowed sour milk laced with vinegar, not a pretty sight at all.

He squeaked out in a whimper with his face all screwed up, almost crying. "Why poor little old me, what have I done to deserve this torture? Now I am going to have nightmares about this for months to come. You know what I am like. Things like this abuse would be laughed at in court and I would be a laughing stock.

"Anyone else and I would not have minded, but it would have to be that reprobate. He is always lurking about somewhere doing something or other. Whatever it is, I am sure that he is up to no good. His brothers or sister would have been so much better. I would not have minded that so much but, oh no, it had to be him. He must weigh at least half a ton with all that food he eats.

"He is a walking health hazard with that mop of hair. It is a wonder that he can see where he is going. I find it almost impossible to talk to him. I can’t see his face properly. If I could, it would be better. He is more like an overgrown cousin, It, from The Adam’s Family than a human being.

It’s not fair at all. This is a gross injustice to my character. The law society would have harsh words over this violation of abuse of a judge. In cases like this, I would have the jury totally on my side, saying that I deserve to be compensated against this audacity that has upset me.

Tom did not look a happy bunny at all. He looked as though he was about to burst into tears at any moment and have a child-like fit of sitting in a corner of a room, sucking his thumb crying. He was feeling like a naughty child at school being made to stand in the corner and facing the wall wearing the dunce’s cap.

Jean hissed at him. Be quiet. It’s New Year. It is only a bit of fun. Put up with it and don’t be such a grouch or I shall have to call you Oscar from Sesame Street. Loosen up a bit. You are so uptight all the time, especially with Gal and his friends. You have nothing nice to say about him at all. Now go and try to find something nice to say to him. That is if you can.

Later on, when some records were played, his crazy dancing antics whilst playing musical statues raised a few laughs at him trying to keep his balance, after a few games, everyone had built up such an appetite, it was almost time to eat. All the guests had gathered round the tables to get food and tuck in and enjoy a feast.

A huge New Year’s feast set on tables smelt so nice and mouth-watering. The aromas wafting through made everyone feel very hungry. When it was time to eat and the vicar said grace and thanks, the guests had a very good choice of different dishes to choose from. The same went for the desserts, quite a large selection to choose from.

After dinner, a hilarious game of charades was played. When it was Gal’s turn, Mr Peterson chose for him A Midsummer’s Night Dream, saying to him in a gleeful tone of voice rubbing his hands with glee, almost laughing. Revenge is all mine, all mine. Ha-ha, ha! Now we can all have a laugh at you trying to work that one out if you can, and how long it takes you to do?

Gal did not mind this. He loves to join in and have as much fun as he could and got on with it, and did an Oscar-winning performance of it after a round of applause. Mr Peterson actually admitted that Gal had done a good job of it. Gal thought that the ribbings he got were good fun and in jest did not bother him in the slightest. He gave as good as he got with the ribbings.

At midnight, everyone linked arms, and sang Auld langsyne and wished each other a happy prosperous new year. Mrs Peterson glowered at Mr Peterson as if to say to him, ‘Shake hands with Gal and wish him a happy new year. Otherwise you won’t be parading round like a peacock that you do. Your feathers would be snipped off. That would shut you up’.

You could literally feel the glower burning and smouldering at the back of your neck, singing your hair as though it was about to burst into flames. Reluctantly, Mr Peterson, through gritted teeth and a big cheesy grin, shook hands with Gal wishing him a happy new year. Jean hissed at Tom. See, that wasn’t all that hard, now lighten up.

Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the party. When it was eventually time to go home, and all the thanks and happy new years and goodbyes had been exchanged, it was so late, far too late to tidy up. Gal did not mind stopping up a while to clear up in his usual style and his way, eating more food, typical what would you expect from a hungry horse.

A couple of weeks or so later, university had opened for a new term. Gal started studying roman structural foundations. He found this quite interesting and eye-opening. He liked paying attention to detail and getting them accurate. He thought, Otherwise, what’s the point? If a job has to be done, do it properly or not at all.

At a later date with good luck on his side in time, he was going to find out how invaluable this was to be to him. When this is discovered, quite a few surprises are going to turn up for him. However, he was to think about each one as it unfolds.

During this time, he was finding out more about these structures. He learnt it was like opening a present with many layers of wrapping with the odd surprise under some of the layers. These needed to be studied and more research had to be done in order to learn about life in those days.

Without doing so, this would not be possible and would be a great pity with great interest at stake for this to happen. Research had to be done.

During discussions with some friends about his coursework, they encouraged him to carry on with it even though they had little interest in archaeology. Nevertheless, they shared many common interests and agreed to disagree on other things which certainly led to a few laughs.

The rest of his friends urged him to press on by telling him something big might happen and never give up, no matter how long it takes. In the end, it is going to be worth it. Gal and Kala were able to help each other with studying and testing each other on coursework, proving to be very helpful.

Several months or so, probably a year later, it could have been a bit longer. Gal took Kala to see the finest band ever to hit the stage, LED ZEPPELIN in concert, with having to borrow his mum’s car to get there. He knew that he had to be careful and to take his time.

When Mr Peterson found out that Gal had taken Kala to a concert, he demanded to know who it was and where. He might have had the idea of driving there and retrieving Kala, saving her, from in his eyes and mind, mental torture or brain damage. Mr Peterson realised where it was. He thought, By the time I get there, the concert would be over and that lot, they would only stampede and trample my car.

When he was told it was LED ZEPPELIN, he paced up and down grumbling in such a disapproving manner. His face was like thunder with lightning flashing round his head ready to throw a bolt at you know who, thinking on what to say of this matter, for a while, he remained silent due to being speechless with anger. It was as almost as though he had forgotten how to talk.

Eventually, in a horrified tone of voice, he said, "I have heard of them and their antics, long-haired louts’ hooligans, the lot of them. This type of music, if you can call it that, shall turn her brains to mush just like his, addled and no good for anything due to brain rot. It is a shame to do this to the brain. It is a delicate piece of organic apparatus and very fragile. This sort of abuse can do no good at all by damaging it beyond repair.

To go to a concert is fine. If it had been Bing Crosby or Frank Sinatra that they had gone to, it would have been acceptable, but oh no, it would have to be one of these horrendous pop bands that I hear people rave on about and going crazy for running riot and causing mayhem wherever they go and fans behaving like I don’t know what chasing after them and the carnage caused.

Mrs Peterson gave Tom a frosty look, saying, Going to a concert has given them a well-deserved break. It will do them good. Don’t you remember the expression, all work and no play? The concert is play. In other words, taking time out from work. You should take a leaf out of his book once in a while and do the same, it might do you the world of good.

Mr Peterson carried on ranting, The other day, I was taking the dogs for a walk and I could hear his music playing. He was on the garage roof with the speakers blaring out. It was like the screaming Abdabs, with his arms waving about, it looked like he was emulating to play the guitar or a complete utter lunatic on the run that has escaped an asylum.

Again, Mrs Peterson told Tom to give it a rest. Needless to say, Tom carried on regardless. "He is a sad case of non-compos mentis, discombobulated. In other words, he is confused between reality and cloud cuckoo land. If you ask me, he is certainly a prime candidate for the funny farm, if not, one day, at the rate he is going, he’ll end up in prison. Believe me on that one.

Whatever he was playing or listening to, if you call it music, it should not be allowed, it should be banned under the Geneva Convention. If his mother or father had been at home, this would not have happened and it would have been nice and quiet. I had to stare in disbelief at these acts of a mindless idiotic moron in action, to top it, his sanity is not up to scratch. If it was, he would have a job.

Yet again, Jean warned Tom to quieten down, as usual, he took no notice of her and carried on like an express train that had gone at full speed and out of control. "Oh! By the way, to make things worse, he had an audience with him and the sad thing was that they were encouraging and egging him on and then joining him on the roof, emulating him like lost sheep. The sad part of it was that they thought it was funny.

Don’t forget you are always making a fuss of him. You know that I don’t approve of this, and you are always feeding him up. Doesn’t his mother feed him? I have to pay for that food you give him. He is eating us out of house and home. He’s probably eaten half the food in the village. No wonder there is a food shortage. If I had my way, he would be doing national service and be useful to society. The same goes for his associates.

Jean finally snapped, stamping her feet, waving a rolling pin at him and shouted, "Shut up and hear me out and don’t interrupt me again or else, calm yourself down now before you burst a blood vessel or blow a gasket. You are so tensed all the time. Anyway, you know that Kala is in safe hands. You create a fuss over nothing, turning molehills into mountains, stressing yourself out. It is not good or healthy for you or anyone else.

Don’t worry. Gal is a nice lad; he is sensible, polite, well-mannered and cheerful. He is kind-hearted and honest and always willing to lend a hand. You know this. Why don’t you give him a chance? If you do, you might surprise yourself and find something positive about him like we all do, you are the only one that does not. As for national service, that one ended years ago.

Mr Peterson looked a bit shocked and subdued at what was said and kept quiet for a moment. Mrs Peterson carried on, "As for the food that you have gone on about, to me, this is to thank him for a couple of jobs he has done. If you have not noticed, the garage has been painted, yes, by Gal that has saved you a job or hiring someone to do it.

"I think he has done a very good job of it, since that you have been going on about this for weeks now. Now it has been done. That is one job less for you to organise. Take what I have said as a clue. Open your eyes and pay some attention to what is going on around you. Then you might