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Subject: Heatwave in the City Chapter 17 This is a work of fiction. Everybody in it is entirely my own creation. Don’t even think of suing me for putting you in a story, because I haven’t. If you happen to be resident in one of the places mentioned, or to belong to any of the institutions mentioned, don’t even think about telling me I haven’t portrayed them accurately. Work of fiction. The name of the institution only occurs because it is common knowledge so I couldn’t get away with pretending it was otherwise. If I’ve borrowed your Church, school, police station, laundrette – I haven’t. I’ve merely used the name on the building because people walk past and see it every day. Work of fiction. None of the people in the story exist, so none of the things that happen in the story can have happened to them. The world, however, is the one exception to this – the world which has in it so many wonderful people that writing fiction of this sort becomes an obligation – for me; not for everybody. You’ll have found your own place in the scheme of things, and can be wonderful in your own way. This is a story of love. It isn’t a story of sex, though that might get mentioned. There is no pornography here. Some of it is cross-generational, but it isn’t about perverted love either. Some is what nowadays is termed “gay”, but the same applies. If you think you might be offended by that, the time to go and read something else is now. Still reading? Then enjoy, and remember, you don’t pay to read these stories, but it does cost Nifty money to bring them to you. Please consider donating to Nifty fty/donate.html Heatwave in the City by Jonah Chapter 17 Tuesday, and an empty bed. I wondered whether that meant that even Peter had beaten me. Of course, that wasn’t necessarily so. It could just be that he had stayed in his own bed. I got myself up and showered. Downstairs Neil was with Luke and Peter. “Jake’s outside with the horses.” said Neil. “I was just coming to fetch you. Jake said we were to give you breakfast, so Luke’s done scrambled eggs on toast for you.” “That’s very good of him….” “And I’ve made tea,” finished Neil. I said nothing. Actually breakfast was good, and Neil’s tea, though a little on the mild side, was very agreeable. “So where’s everybody else?” “Liam’s with Abby for the day, and Kori and Simon have gone to help Joan Plover with her housework. She’d never cope otherwise, and I think they like doing it. I wouldn’t mind betting that means Kori will invite Joan back here for dinner though. He usually does.” “Doesn’t Jake mind that?” “Hell, no. He’d mind some if Kori thought he shouldn’t do it though.” That sounded like the Jake that I knew. “So what’re we doing this morning?” I asked. “Well I’m going to get that switch fitted back in so that Liam’s got two main lines again,”he said. “How’s your layout coming?” “It’s much smaller than Liam’s.” I told him, ” and is end to end with a traverser.” “Yes, I thought that’s what you needed.” he replied. “That’s why I made a dead end station.” “That’s what gave me the clue,” I replied. “Well I thought about a tower for Liam’s station yard,” he said. “If you can put that switch back trabzon escort in, I’ll get started building that before he comes back. He’s bound to bring Abby and her folks back here.” I grinned, found a pair of pointed-nose pliers, and set about trying to re-install the point. From time to time Luke, or Peter, would appear with a cup of tea, but, for the most part Luke simply wandered from place to place with his sketch block and a couple of pencils. Peter eventually found Jake, and that was the last I saw of him till lunch time. After the anxiety of yesterday morning, and the euphoria of yesterday afternoon and evening, a quiet day pottering about with friends was pleasant. In an hour I had installed the point. I had also run trains over it both sides, and checked clearances all round. I mixed up some thin PVA glue and, taking care to keep it away from the moving parts of the point, replaced the ballast that Neil had scraped away. In the meantime, with thin balsa wood, some plastic card, and a few scraps of acetate, Neil had produced a very rustic looking signalbox. He painted it with thinned acrylic paints, then installed it close to my point. The result was very realistic. Jake popped up to see what we were doing, and expressed his appreciation. He said that he suspected that we were expecting company later, so he planned a trip to Walmart, and we could get some lunch while we were out. That proved a good idea. Five of us shopped and then five of us popped into, Subway (which is attached to Walmart), for a quick lunch. A “foot-long” and a drink apiece and we were ready for home. Kori was soon back, with Simon and the Plovers in company. “Jake, I’m sorry if….” “Come on in Joan. We were expecting you. You know you’re always welcome.” I had to work in Jake’s office for a while, because Ben Murchisson had heard of the events of Sunday night, and was seriously concerned. He had been talking to the Governor and they were concerned about the conduct of the Massachusetts State Police, and the County sheriff’s office in Northampton. I had to tell him that I knew little about the State Police, since it was the local sheriff’s office that had been protecting us. I’d heard that the State Police had been guarding Mrs. Ning, but there didn’t seem to have been a problem there. I was careful to point out that the problem at the sheriff’s office lay with one officer, who was now behind bars. I fixed a meeting with Ben for the following morning. He asked for Luke to be present. I pointed out to him that Luke was on holiday and was not an employee of either Phillips-Murchisson or Hepworth and Hepworth. Ben quickly pointed out that he was proposing a social, rather than business occasion, though we did need to conduct some business, and he would personally see to it that Luke was entertained. I couldn’t see how that would work, but Luke said that he would like to do it, so there was no point in my protesting further. When I finally got back to the rest of the crew Liam was back, and so was Abby. Her parents I had only met briefly before, but Jake introduced Max and Leila to me. They seemed more than just polite. As we sat on the sofa in the tunalı escort TV room Max asked what I did. He was intrigued to meet an artist, even the commercial sort. He apparently was a teacher, of biology, but his hobby was model engineering. He had built model boats, with real petrol engines, and steam locomotives, as well as a steam road engine. I asked him about the locomotives. I had learned where Abby got her love of railways. Her father had actually built a 5″ gauge working Great Western Railway Pannier tank. It was capable of pulling trains, though it had never done so, since he lacked a railway to run it on. The road engine was another British prototype, being an eighth scale Marshall steam road engine. It hauled a small trailer which, he told me, Abby used to ride in. His currrent project was a 5″ gauge North American switcher by Baldwin. “Jonah,” said Liam. “Kori wants you. He’s outside.” Curiouser and curiouser. Kori was in the paddock, holding the big horse by the halter. The horse was saddled, so I didn’t need to guess. Was I nervous? Hell, yes! Did it show? I hope not. Horses are big – well this one certainly was. Not something to be trifled with. A toss of Kori’s head summoned me. Had he been taking lessons from the horse. Oh well. Mustn’t look nervous. Straight in – that’s the way. Foot in the stirrup and swing my leg over. How difficult can it be? I quickened my pace and made for the big horse’s flank. “Whoah!” said Kori, stepping between me and horse. “You don’t want to frighten him. You’ll end up sitting on the floor if you do.” I stopped in my tracks. “You’ve watched too many cowboy films, where the hero takes a flying leap onto his horse. You save behaviour like that for bicycles. A horse has got feelings. Now come round the front and make friends. Jonah – Dusty. Dusty – Jonah. That’s better, ” Kori said as I patted the horse’s neck. He in turn started nuzzling my shirt. “Now come round the side and pat his side to let him know where you’ve gone to. Thats it, now – right foot in the stirrup and up you go. Lean forward along his neck and you’ll be able to swing your left leg over. Have you found the other stirrup?” I nodded. “I’ve found it,” I said “Sit up straight then. Reins in both hands. Now look where your hands are. Your arm there should be in line with the reins. OK then, off we go. C’mon Dusty.” The big horse tossed its head and set off with Kori holding the leading rein. “Yup!” he said. “You’re right to be worried about the tree, but laying down on his neck won’t help. Sit up. Don’t worry, he knows about it. He’s even guessed what you want him to do about it. He’s just waiting for the order.” The tree was getting awfully close. “Just press your right knee against his side slightly. That’s enough.” With a toss of his head, the horse neatly sidestepped and missed the tree. We processed round the paddock in this manner. “Nearly dinner time,” said Kori. “Didja enjoy it?” I started to thank him enthusiastically, but he cut me off. “Dusty needs to know about it. Give him some petting when you get down. He deserves it.” I couldn’t have agreed more, but tunceli escort I sadly underestimated how much that horse enjoyed the fuss. Dinner was a convivial affair, and Leila and Joan were fast becoming the best of friends. We had a couple of party pieces from Liam and Kori, who had obviously been practising with no particular idea of ever presenting the pieces. It was certainly well and truly dark by the time we broke up and Abby’s parents took her home. “Showers and bed,” said Jake preremptorilly. “Early start tomorrow.” “Luke and I have a meeting,” I said. “There’s more than Luke and you have a meeting,” Jake commented. “Didn’t Ben tell you?” “No, he just said he’d make sure Luke was entertained,” I replied. “Oh, well. We’ve all got an early start in the morning,” he said. “I guess Ben’s impressed with your firm’s work for him.” I followed Jake out into the yard. “He’s pretty impressed with Luke’s,” I said. He sat on the top rail of the paddock fence, so I climbed up beside him. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but something in his manner spoke of contentment and inner peace. “What’s London like at this time of year?” he asked. “Full of people who are too busy to have time for each other, till nightfall, which is when they all get on their trains and go home.” “You know I meant Harrow, right?” “Yes, well that’s where some of them go home to,” I replied. “Metroland – the promised paradise. It lives up to some of that promise.” “Only some?” “Yes, the place is only as good as the people in it. They can give us all ideal homes, but buildings don’t make a community. There are some good people in Harrow.” “Enough that you wouldn’t want to move anywhere else.” I smiled. “That’d be admitting defeat,” I said. “We’ve got good friends in Harrow, but if the place is going to be any good – well living somewhere isn’t just about having friends – it’s about being a friend. If the place doesn’t meet up to expectations, that could be just because I’m not doing my bit.” “I feel the same way,” he said. “Look at it. On a night like this, it’s beautiful. The open air, the horses, and the wildlife, the sky and the stars, they all combine to make this beautiful, but life isn’t about any of those things. It’s those we love that make our lives worth living, and if they love us back, that’s just so much better. If they don’t, we still have to keep doing it.” A horse whinnied, and was silent. Somewhere in the distance an owl cried in the night. Orion stalked Taurus, his faithful hound at his heels and, as the great bear wheeled in the sky, Jupiter and Saturn twinkled their approval. In the beginning, God looked at all this and saw that it was good. If He needed a second opinion, Jake and I were ready. TO BE CONTINUED If you’ve enjoyed this story, you’ll probably enjoy other stories in this series by the same author. This is the latest in a series that includes “A letter from America”, “Stranger on a train,” “Marooned”, “the Boston Tea Party”, “Immigrant,” and “A Cantabrian Operetta”, all the foregoing are on Nifty’s Adult/Youth site. “The Pen Pals” is on Young Friends. You might also like “A Neglected Boy”, by Jacob Lion, also on Adult/Youth. You can find links to all these stories, as well as some illustrations on Jacob Lion’s website bly/jonah-stories.html My thanks go to Jacob for providing this facility as well as for his kind and generous support without which I would never have written any of them.

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