10 pages courage and secrets

COURAGE and SECRETS GRAHAM VIVIAN LANCASTER

For Nicola with love

L TRAYBERRY PRESS Personalized E version available January 2013

ALEXANDER HOUSE Incorporating

TRAYBERRY PRESS 29 Howick Road Pietermaritzburg 0836388813 Copyright 2012 Graham Vivian Lancaster Copyright 2012 in this published edition TRAYBERRY PRESS 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 written permission of the copyright holder and publisher.

First published 2012

ISBN: 978-0-9870146-6-5 Cover design: G. V. Lancaster / Richard Burns Cover photograph: G.V.Lancaster Illustrations: G.V.Lancaster Illustrations advisor: Nicola Puler Author photograph: Cathy Bloemhof Distributed by Trayberry Book Distributors.

Cell: 0836388813 Tel: 033 - 3427978

WORKS BY THE AUTHOR: NOVELS:

Wind Song Storm Song Strength Of ten

SELF HELP: Everyone Can Do It

Its Never Too Late Surviving The Ladder The Cost Of Money Who’s Shrinking Your Money?

The Happy Customer POETRY:

Marks On My Soul Gypsey Whale Song Gravel Roads Fledgeling African Ride Moments of Truth Picaroon Journeys Rusty Gates Poetry Study Guide

HUMOUR:

Bert and Co. Bert Another Story Nothing For Mahala

ADVENTURE SERIES: Wild and Dangerous

+ Study Guide Secrets of the Sea Cyclone Tracy Wrath Of The Gods Dangerous Alliances When The Earth Thunders + Study Guide Awakening Africa Flying With Eagles Over The Edge + Study Guide ******************* The Adventurous Life Of Rory Flint Rat To Riches + Study Guide Dock Town Mayor and Mayoress Dock Town Upside Down Sibanda Of The Zambezi River Courage And Secrets

INDEX 1 8 13 16 21 28 31 34 42 45 50 52 65 69 75 76 80 82 92 93

104 110 116 119

COURAGE AND SECRETS SPECIAL DELIVERY DOWN TO THE NITTY GRITTY PARADISE BAY DOWN TO BUSINESS TALK ABOUT A THUNDERBOLT VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY WHERE TO LOOK EXPLAINING TO DAD DAY TWO SECRETS OF THE HARBOUR ALL THE DUCKS IN A ROW ARCHIE AWAITS WHO IS ARCHIE BETTY TO CATCH A MONKEY DAY THREE INTO ACTION THE SECOND TRIP A RESTLESS NIGHT

PIRATES CAVE ESCAPING PIRATES CAVE THE HELICOPTER MOPPING UP THE MESS

COURAGE AND SECRETS I often asked questions about Pirate’s Cave in the quiet little hamlet of Paradise Bay, but no one seemed to know anything about it. If they did, they didn’t want to answer and changed the subject, but it seemed no one ever went there.

That was an invitation to explore but my Dad had forbidden me to visit the deserted beach to try and discover the truth. I needed to know. I needed to discover whether there was actually a cave.

Everything happened so suddenly. I could never have imagined the chain of events that unravelled there one school holiday. Trying to make sense of it all and protecting what was mine turned me into a detective with adventures beyond my wildest imaginings. Events that transformed me from a boy into a man in a few days.

I sketched and made notes as it happened so the pictures remained clear in my mind.

To learn the truth; one sometimes has to be trustworthy and courageous enough to keep it secret. For various reasons, that isn’t always easy. Secrets are only secrets when you don’t have the answer. Then it becomes a mystery.

Clues were thrust into my hands and I was the only one entrusted to solve the mysteries. * School holidays would begin the day after tomorrow and my Dad and I would be going to our holiday cottage in Paradise Bay again.

It was a beautiful place where we fished and dived for big crayfish. We also SCUBA dived and I was allowed to launch 1

the inflatable, or rubber duck, from Rocky Bay during calm seas.

There were five cottages in Paradise Bay. Between them they owned all the land with none to spare. No one was allowed to sub-divide their property and no one could build any other dwellings.

It was some clause from long ago and I suppose someone knew where it had come from, but we were all happy to keep it plain and simple – and private. If we didn’t, we would find tarred roads and a huge supermarket or some such monstrosity, with thousands of people ruining our piece of paradise.

Because we kept it private, everyone knew everyone else.

Except of course, the small cottage right down the valley on the edge of the low cliff.

It was the oldest building, built from hand cut stone. It was beautiful and I always thought the stone mason had been a master craftsman. The cottage had been there long before any of the others and it seemed Granny May had lived there almost all her life.

The curtains remained drawn after she passed away and no one had been seen there in over a year, yet the grass was always cut and the cottage well maintained.

Not everyone knew Granny May and some had never seen her. Consequently, there were stories of ghosts and a haunted house which people jokingly told, but no one really believed. Well – maybe no one believed them, but no one except me went too close to it either.

I met Granny May one afternoon when I was coming up from the beach. She was sitting on the side of the path holding her ankle. Her face was deathly pale and she was obviously in pain.

“Good afternoon, Madam,” I put down my spear gun and bag of fish quickly and went to see if I could help.

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“Hello young man. I appear to have sprained my ankle.

Well, I hope that is all I have done,” she said through clenched teeth.

“I have done first aid at school, Madam. Can I look at it?”

She nodded her head. Her ankle was already turning blue and I knew she had a big problem. She watched me hopefully for good news but I shook my head.

“You need a doctor, Madam.”

“No doctor, young man,” she gasped.

“I’ll call my father to help.”

“No. I’ll be fine. Please help me up to my cottage.”

I could see she wasn’t going to be fine for a long while.

I helped her up onto her good leg and took her weight on the other side with her arm over my shoulder. She tried to hop on one foot, which almost pulled us over the edge of the steep narrow path.

Luckily I am strong and very fit for my age. I picked her up in my arms and carried her carefully up the path. She smelled of lavender.

“Thank you, young man. You are so kind but be careful not to strain yourself. I must be awfully heavy.”

“It’s fine. We are almost at the top,” I puffed.

She refused to be taken to hospital for X-rays so I did my best. I made her comfortable in a lounge chair and propped her up with cushions.

I boiled a kettle and gave her a strong cup of sweet tea to help with the shock. Then I filled two basins. One with hot water, the other with cold. Into the hot water, I stirred in a few table spoons of Epsom salts, which was in the kitchen cupboard. I stirred two table spoons of vinegar into the cold water.

“This is going to be very hot but it is best, if you can stand it.” She nodded her head trustingly and I lowered her ankle into the basin of hot water.

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