The Forde Fables Omnibus One

By William Forde

These four stories were written to help ease the traumatic experience of separation and loss caused by the absence or death of a parent, along with being the victim of bullying, or a sufferer of cerebral palsy or any other debilitating condition. They tell about the indomitable spirit that exists in all of us and which helps us get through life.The stories are suitable for the 7-11 year old.

Bereavement, loss and separation are three of the most unsettling of emotions that one will face in their lifetime; none more so than when it involves the absence or death of a family member and is experienced by a child. When a young child experiences such loss, it is not unusual for them to be left feeling emotionally confused and partly 'responsible'. ‘Nancy's Song’ was written in memory of the late Roy Castle and was first published in June 1995. It identifies through its story the death of a father, many of the emotions that the bereaved family members experience both prior to and after the death of a loved one.

‘Maw’ was written to identify the problems that ‘bullying’ brings. It is there to remind all that when good people fail to stand up for what they believe to be right, bad behaviour is provided with a golden opportunity to triumph! Into such environments, bullying is born and permitted to flourish. The silent observer who declines to challenge the bully's behaviour – the reluctant witness who refuses to testify – anyone who fails to stand alongside the victim, becomes the bully's accomplice! They never walk alone. Bullies feed upon the fear of their victims. Being prepared to stand up to a bully is often enough to prevent the bully putting you down! There are three types of people involved in the process of 'bullying'. There is the bully, the person being bullied and the people observing the bullying.

‘Midnight Fighter’ is based upon a true story and it tells the story of a young girl with an indomitable spirit and her love for a dying foal. Cassy has cerebral palsy and she needs all of her strength to help the horse live. It hopefully reminds the reader that the beauty of life lies not in the physical characteristics of the world's children, but in their indomitable spirit to survive as equals in the environment they inhabit. We are each but a mere part of a more perfect whole, endowed with differing abilities and handicaps. When we live our lives in love, we live it in constant hope. When we live side-by-side harmoniously, we co-exist in peace and understanding.

‘Robin and the Rubicelli Fusiliers’ was written to inform young children what it was like for a child in war-torn England to live through the Second World War years. It was also written to remind us all that when countries wage war upon each other, there are no winners. The price of war is paid for with the blood of innocent people, the loss of military and civilian lives, the deaths of men, women and children!

There is no greater tyranny than a powerful nation making a smaller nation bend and submit to its will, simply because it is more powerful and is able to do so. When words of worldly wisdom are wrapped within their national flags, all manner of human wrong is capable of being done and justified in the name of 'good cause'. Territorial theft enters the history books as colonial expansion, apartheid is dressed up in the clothes of natural segregation and genocide is given the sanitised label of ‘ethnic cleansing.’ The spread of war and its propaganda, allows the value of life in one part of the world to become more or less important than the lives of men, women and children elsewhere. The blood of innocent people should not be shed to buy the wealth of nations! People's lives should not be sacrificed to purchase the political or religious advancement of one race over that of another! War should not be waged to extend the geographical land-map of any country!

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Forde
• Release date: Aug 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476040783

William Forde

William Forde was born in Ireland and currently lives in Haworth, West Yorkshire with his wife Sheila. He is the father of five children and the author of over 60 published books and two musical plays. Approximately 20 of his books are suitable for the 7-11 year old readers while the remainder are suitable for young persons and adults. Since 2010, all of his new stories have been written for adults under his 'Tales from Portlaw' series of short stories. His website is www.fordefables.co.uk on which all his miscellaneous writings may be freely read. There are also a number of children's audio stories which can be freely heard.He is unique in the field of contemporary children's authors through the challenging emotional issues and story themes he addresses, preferring to focus upon those emotions that children and adults find most difficult to appropriately express.One of West Yorkshire's most popular children's authors, Between 1990 and 2002 his books were publicly read in over 2,000 Yorkshire school assemblies by over 800 famous names and celebrities from the realms of Royalty, Film, Stage, Screen, Politics, Church, Sport, etc. The late Princess Diana used to read his earlier books to her then young children, William and Harry and Nelson Mandela once telephoned him to praise an African story book he had written. Others who have supported his works have included three Princesses, three Prime Ministers, two Presidents and numerous Bishops of the realm. A former Chief Inspector of Schools for OFSTED described his writing to the press as 'High quality literature.' He has also written books which are suitable for adults along with a number of crossover books that are suitable for teenagers and adults.Forever at the forefront of change, at the age of 18 years, William became the youngest Youth Leader and Trade Union Shop Steward in Great Britain. In 1971, He founded Anger Management in Great Britain and freely gave his courses to the world. Within the next two years, Anger Management courses had mushroomed across the English-speaking world. During the mid-70's, he introduced Relaxation Training into H.M. Prisons and between 1970 and 1995, he worked in West Yorkshire as a Probation Officer specialising in Relaxation Training, Anger Management, Stress Management and Assertive Training Group Work.He retired early on the grounds of ill health in 1995 to further his writing career, which witnessed him working with the Minister of Youth and Culture in Jamaica to establish a trans-Atlantic pen-pal project between 32 primary schools in Falmouth, Jamaica and 32 primary schools in Yorkshire.William was awarded the MBE in the New Year's Honours List of 1995 for his services to West Yorkshire. He has never sought to materially profit from the publication of his books and writings and has allowed all profit from their sales (approx £200,000) to be given to charity. Since 2013, he was diagnosed with CLL; a terminal condition for which he is currently receiving treatment.In 2014, William had his very first 'strictly for adult' reader's novel puiblished called‘Rebecca’s Revenge'. This book was first written over twenty years ago and spans the period between the 1950s and the New Millennium. He initially refrained from having it published because of his ‘children’s author credentials and charity work’. He felt that it would have conflicted too adversely with the image which had taken a decade or more to establish with his audience and young person readership. Now, however as he approaches the final years of his life and cares less about his public image, besides no longer writing for children (only short stories for adults since 2010), he feels the time to be appropriate to publish this ‘strictly for adults only’ novel alongside the remainder of his work.In December 2016 he was diagnosed with skin cancer on his face and two weeks later he was diagnosed with High-grade Lymphoma (Richter’s Transformation from CLL). He was successfully treated during the first half of 2017 and is presently enjoying good health albeit with no effective immune system.

Book preview

The Forde Fables Omnibus One

By

William Forde

Published by William Forde at Smashwords

Copyright August 2012 William Forde

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Nancy's Song

By

William Forde

Cover Illustration by Robert Nixon

Author's Foreword

Bereavement, loss and separation are three of the most unsettling of emotions that one faces in their lifetime; none more so than when it involves the death of a family member and is experienced by a child.

The healthy negotiation of this process requires time, patience and understanding by all concerned, along with the necessary expression of the bereaved person's feelings.

When a young child experiences the death of a parent, it is not unusual for them to be left feeling emotionally confused and partly 'responsible'. It is at such times when 'sensitivity' by the adult minders needs to be at its greatest and 'being there' for the bereaved child is of the highest premium.

Nancy's Song was written in memory of the late Roy Castle and was first published in June 1995. It identifies through its story the death of a father, many of the emotions that the bereaved family members experience both prior to and after the death of a loved one.

The story is suitable for any child aged between 7 and 11 years.

#####

Ten-year-old Nancy was the happiest of children. Shielded from worldly cynicism by youthful innocence, she was protected by parents who loved her dearly.

As she walked through life in hopeful bounce, her shoulder-length hair swirled and danced majestically from side to side, like the free-flowing waters of a meadow stream, transforming itself from wave to gentle curl.

Her face was that of a girl who found pleasure and astonishment in most things she was and when it blossomed into smile, it reflected the exuberance and promise of a newborn star.

Nancy didn't have a nasty through in her head. Being gentle in disposition and generous in spirit, her parents were rarely disappointed in anything she did. She was their only child and her presence in their lives made their family complete.

Nancy had been born into a musically talented household and possessed the sweetest-sounding, most melodious voice that had ever given birth to song.

All three of them sung with the Holmfirth Choral Society. Her mother played violin and her father was an accomplished pianist who composed songs in his spare time.

Of all the loves in Nancy's life, the ones, which gave her the most pleasure and meaning, were family, nature and music. It seemed to Nancy, that were one lucky enough to be able to appreciate these three things, one would never be alone and the window of the world would always remain wide open.

The family home was an old cottage situated on the edge of Marfield Village. It was near enough to the town centre to feel part of community life; yet far enough away from the noise and traffic, to provide it with the peaceful seclusion of its own rural setting.

Access to the cottage was gained by walking along a two-mile stretch of country lane; too narrow and coarse in passage for the travelling of cars.

The cottage, which had once been used as a gamekeeper's lodge at the entrance of the Armitage Estate, now stood alone in picturesque surroundings. The Armitage Manor House had been demolished after the Second World War and replaced with eighty acres of woodland; making the view from the cottage even more magnificent.

Hemmed in on all sides by a colourful garland of wild flowers and shrubs, an atmosphere of scented serenity remained constant between the seasons of Spring and Autumn.

The cottage was dressed in stone, the colour of freshly baked bread, giving it an impression that it could crumb le to touch. Crowned with a roof of blue Derbyshire slate, its ridge curtsied with graceful age, sloping towards a chimneystack, quaintly tilted.

To the left of the cottage, the rolling hills swept back in verdant openness, enabling the travelling eye to see clearly for miles beyond.

To the back of the cottage, a clear, flowing stream rippled gently by as it meandered its way from the woodland, passed the cottage and into the dell at Lower Hopton.

The woodland was situated to the right of the cottage. It was a place of tranquillity and breath-taking beauty, to which the family would travel on fine Sunday afternoons.

Being private in ownership and miles off the beaten track, the woodland area remained safe from unwelcomed intrusion.

Nancy's parents rented their cottage home and part of the tenant's agreement stipulated that whoever lived in the cottage, helped to keep the private woodland area maintained.

Although unusual to pay for one's rent with money and labour, Nancy's father readily agreed to the conditions of tenancy when he and Nancy's mum had first come to live at the cottage.

Besides, like Nancy, her parents loved all aspects of nature and neither objected to giving 60 hours each year in maintenance work.

If it means we can live in this beautiful cottage and make it our home - it's a small price to pay, isn't it? Nancy's dad had remarked to her mum 14 years earlier.

Yes! I agree! mum had replied. The cottage is charming and I've no objection to having a private wood in the background, or helping to keep it tidy!

Before Nancy had been born, therefore, most fine-weather Sunday afternoons were spent by her parents walking out to the wood, and spending two or three hours tidying it up or replanting saplings which had started to grow too close to other established trees.

They would always take a picnic tea, which would be eaten beneath the oak tree after their labour of love had been completed. Once Nancy became old enough to walk the distance from cottage to wood, she also became part of this Sunday-afternoon tradition.

The woodland area quickly became a natural part of Nancy's life and her favourite place of exploration.

At the beginning of every spring, the stillness of the slumbering winter would be broken with the resonance of an awakening orchestra of wildlife: sounds of new-born creatures, promising the coming of yet another summer.

Nancy loved this season best of all: springtime sunshine mixed with showers, coaxing the blossoming of fragrant blooms and the return of the sweet-sounding migrants of the air, coming back home to nest anew!

Hedgerows, nearest to the cottage, cascaded in colour and aroma as the towering bells of foxgloves would bathe in the background, awashed to the fore with poppies, hollyhocks, heathers, wild primroses and bluebells, ringing in the promise of summer months to come!

During their Sunday-afternoon excursions to the wood, the happy trio would laugh, joke and talk about all manner of things, both serious and trivial.

Nancy's dad found the many aspects of his nature jaunts drug-like in effect and each mile he walked, the more intoxicated he became with the pleasures that surrounded him!

Oh what a day to be born and live through! he exclaimed enthusiastically. Just open your lungs and nostrils Nancy dear, and feel the freshness of that air! Fill yourself with nature's nectar Nancy; for that's what the essence of country air is - nature's nectar!

Nancy loved to hear her father extol the virtues of the countryside. His sheer love of life and poetic expression was music to her ears.

Just savour that fragrance! Listen to the invisible sounds as startled rabbits and field mice scurry for shelter. Open your eyes Nancy dear and marvel at those wondrous sights and colours that only nature can create!

Just listen to him go on Nancy! her mum exclaimed smilingly. To hear your father talk, one might be forgiven for thinking he'd never walked a country lane before!

Upon arriving at the woodland, Nancy would run on ahead and make for her favourite spot at its centre while mum and dad surveyed the area for maintenance work that might need doing.

I'll meet up with you later! Nancy yelled as her heels took flight. I'll be in the usual spot! she added as her words faded into the distance.

Once inside the wood, Nancy would make her way upwards, watching for a glimpse of a fox or a squirrel as she travelled on quietly towards the oak tree.

The oak tree was the oldest and largest specimen in the wood and as such, it rightfully commanded centre ground. It had, pre-war, originally stood alongside an avenue of maple and ash which led towards the Armitage Mansion House.

The other large trees surrounding the oak had been cut down after the Mansion had been demolished - and while 45 years of new growth had sprung up in their place - the large oak belonged to a different century. Having been the favourite tree of the old Lord Armitage, it had been spared the indignity of the lumberyard's blades.

Approaching the splendid oak tree, which was surrounded at its base with a lush expanse of green grass, peppered with clusters of bluebells, Nancy lay down beneath the shaded branches that towered above her.

Looking up, she could see the sunlight glistening through the tree top as the branches intercepted its rays and redirected them towards the ground below. The warmth of the sun percolated down through the tree and gently came to rest on Nancy's outstretched hands.

Peacefully lying there, Nancy gently closed her eyes and began to relax to the natural rhythm of woodland life.

She loved this period of quiet calm, which seemed to energise her in a way that no other exercise or activity could.

Often as she lay there, trying to recall some of her father's poetic descriptions of nature, she would keep her eyes closed and attempt to match his words with images of her mind.

She had previously discovered by chance, that the longer she could lay there with eyes closed - gently focusing her other senses upon touch, smell and sounds of woodland life - the more vivid became the pictures inside her head and the easier it became to totally relax and become one with the Earth.

Eventually, as Nancy's mind and body began to settle down, she gently sank into the earth around and began to merge with nature itself.

Her heartbeat became synchronised with the pulse of woodland life - the gentle breeze reflected the constancy of her easy breathing pattern - her blood flowed in gentle current to the passage of a nearby stream as her thoughts passively drifted into clouds of nothingness and floated freely into the sky above.

The rays of the sun, which touched her body, seemed to enter it and transfer its energy from the heavens to herself - from sky to earth - from cosmos to Nancy!

Laying there peacefully - free from worry or care - Nancy could hear the song of the birds, the rustling of leaves interspersed with the faint echo of her parents' voices in the distance, as she became more and more relaxed, before drifting off into sleep.

Come on sleepy head! Time to picnic! Opening eyes slowly, she looked up towards the towering presence of her beloved father, who, staring down like a gentle giant, invited her to tea in his castle in the clouds.

Such afternoons were memories to treasure; unforgettable days filled with the music of family love and togetherness.

As they ate, the trio would discuss which musical pieces they would rehearse later at Evensong.

Sunday mornings were spent in worship, the afternoons were given over to nature, but the evenings were spent around the piano with each family member singing or playing their favourite songs.

Once Nancy's parents had discovered the beautiful voice she possessed, they began to encourage and develop its advancement in accordance with her musical desires.

Nancy loved to sing and no parental pressure was needed to persuade her to practise her musical talent. As she came to appreciate the gift within her, she had a natural desire to share her talent with those whom she loved most - her parents.

Every evening after tea, the three of them would retire to the front room, to share an hour of Evensong together.

During spring and summer months, they would be joined by a fourth member - Nancy's Nightingale!

The nightingale had gate-crashed their family Evensong two summers ago. Initially, it was ignored, but once the family realised that the nightingale was singing along with them, the musical trio burst into laughter.

Throughout the summer months of two seasons, the nightingale had appeared upon the bough of the Cherry Blossom, outside the window at the appointed hour - where it would remain until Evensong had ended.

It was as though it had adopted the family, and once it had become established as part of the evening ritual, the family would check for the bird's presence before commencing!

Often, as Nancy rested with open window on warm summer nights, the nightingale would sing. Mum would use the quietness of the hour to read while dad continued with the composition of his 'special song'.

Dad had been working on the composition of this song for almost one year and at the end of each day, he would devote one hour to this labour of love.

He was in this objective, a perfectionist. He wanted to compose a song which embodied the love he felt for Nancy and her mum, a song that embraced the Sun, Moon, Sky - the Heavens and Earth - weaving each note into an eternal musical garment which would endure all seasons and never grow dowdy nor fade with age.

This was to be a song unlike any he'd ever before composed or given ear to - a song of unforgettable refrain - memorable in melody, vibrant and uplifting in spirit - hopeful in purpose.

Nancy's father carried a heavy secret in his heart - knowledge of which only he himself was aware. He knew that he was dying from an incurable illness and would not see another earthly summer!

The news that his earth life was soon to end shocked him at first, but once he had accepted the inevitability of his fate, he readjusted to the reality of his circumstances.

In those earlier moments of uncertainty and self-doubt, his love of nature and music helped him enormously. Looking around him, he could see that everything that lived, breathed and grew in this great world of ours had a purpose and possessed its own special meaning!

Nature also helped him to understand that all which sprang from the Earth must one day give way to it; that things were meant to live and die and be reborn in different soil.

Often, he would compare nature to 'The Song of Life', in which all its ingredients - people, creatures, plants, birds of the air, fish of the sea, stars in the sky - were but single notes in the most beautiful orchestral opera ever composed.

Nancy's father had grown to appreciate that our duty and purpose in this orchestra of life was to play our part in harmony with our neighbour - for only in that way could the 'Song of Creation' be experienced in its full glory as its Maker had intended!

It had proved to be a heart-breaking decision to keep the knowledge of his illness from his wife and daughter. The family had always shared both pleasure and pain at the moment of its birth, but Nancy's father wanted the family to continue as 'normal' for as long as possible.

He had therefore decided that when the pain of his illness could no longer be disguised, then would be the time to share it with his loved ones!

Meanwhile, he intended to enjoy every happy moment he could with those he loved most, doing those things, which gave the family the greatest pleasure.

During the last autumn of his life, he walked to the woodland area whenever he could, where he rested peacefully beneath the oak tree gathering his thoughts and finding the strength to come to terms with the winter months ahead.

Can I come with you dad? Nancy would ask whenever she saw him setting off towards their favourite spot.

Of course you can dear! dad would reply.

While Nancy enjoyed all her excursions to the wood, the times she went with dad alone were somehow different - special moments!

She could sense that these were special in a way she couldn't explain. While she and her father spoke and laughed as they had always done, these were times that she felt closer to him than she'd ever felt.

His laughter somehow seemed more infectious, his unspoken thoughts deeper, and the content of his speech more mysteriously magical. When they held hands, the grip appeared a little firmer - the coupling and entwinement of their fingers endured a little longer.

After roaming the wood, both father and daughter would lay down side-by-side beneath the oak tree and relax in the peaceful presence of each other's company.

During one such November visit to the wood by the family, Nancy asked, Would it damage the oak tree if we carved our names on its bark? I'm never quite sure how much harm cutting the bark can do!

Her mum and dad gave each other one of those secret grown-up looks that children aren't supposed to see. Nancy's father replied, Oh I don't think it will kill it dear. Not if you carve it with love!

Under Nancy's watchful eye, dad etched out the shape of the family cottage and enclosed within the words, 'Nancy, Mum and Dad'.

Nancy laughed when the etching was completed. The carved silhouette of their cottage home bore the resemblance of a long, thin envelope.

That's super Dad! Nancy remarked in a bubble of excitement. It's just like a transparent envelope with a secret letter of love inside!

Oh it's much more than that Nancy dear, Dad remarked. Secret love is spoiled love. Our love is like an open letter. It shines through all we say and do!

The height of the love etching was the same as that of Nancy; to remind her in years to come of the day and time in her life that it occurred.

Nancy was also pleased with the suggestion made by her mum.

If I were you Nancy dear, I'd save the tree bark that your father has etched out in a special envelope of your own. That way, you'll have added to the tree of love by taking from it and spreading it further in remembrance!

When the family arrived home that evening, Nancy's mum carefully placed the bits of tree bark inside a manila envelope and gave it to her daughter.

IF you seal it up Nancy dear and write today's date on the front of the envelope, you'll always have a nice reminder of this special day. If you life, you can place it inside my personal box to save.

Then the trio began their hour of Evensong together. Later mum put Nancy to bed and did some quiet reading while dad did some more work on the composition of his special song.

As he tapped out notes on the piano and scribbled alterations to his musical score, Nancy's mum could sense a certain degree of frustration in him.

What's up dear? she asked. You don't seem to be your usual, cheerful self-tonight! In fact, you've seemed to be a little out of sorts for some months now.

The pain inside his head had been getting worse over the past few weeks and when he tried to concentrate, it aggravated the condition. Nancy's dad knew that the time had arrived to share his secret with his beloved wife.

Nancy's mum was naturally shocked and at first felt extremely angry that such a thing could happen to them at a time of happiness, when they all had so much to live for - so very much to look forward to!

Oh dear God! Why you? You're such a good man! Why us? We don't deserve such heartbreak! Why now, dear God? Why now?

It was natural and healthy that Nancy's mum should react thus upon being told, and having had time himself to readjust to the fact, Nancy's dad became the comforter to his beloved wife.

Who knows the answers to these questions dear? he said calmly as he gave his wife a reassuring hug and embrace. Perhaps such questions are bigger than life itself to understand. What I do know is this…that you and Nancy have together given me more joy, hope and happiness than any person has a right to expect in one lifetime! Every moment we've shared together as a family, has been treasured longer than a lifetime by me! Nancy's mum began to cry and her husband just held on to her close and tight as he continued. He knew how much his words pained her to hear, but also knew that it was important that he spoke them now, while he still had the emotional strength to do so.

Believe me dear wife when I tell you that I'm not afraid to die. I've had a year to get used to the fact and to prepare myself for the time when it arrives. Of course I shall miss you and Nancy as I know you'll miss me - but as nature shows us daily, our life on this Earth is but one part of The Creator's plan. I'm just so grateful that I shared this part with you and Nancy. I love you both - I always will - and knowing that you have both loved me in return has been enough!

Nancy's parents didn't go to bed that night. Instead, they remained covered up and cuddled up in front of the warm, cottage fire. There was much to do in the brief time together they had remaining and Nancy's mum knew that she had a part to play in preparing Nancy for the winter months ahead. For tonight though, the time belonged to both man and wife!

Nancy's parents decided to tell their daughter after Christmas.

That last Christmas was one that would never be forgotten and dad was fortunately able to get through it without showing too much pain.

During Christmas week, Nancy was to have a conversation with her father, which in years ahead, she'd frequently recall.

Dad had struggled with the composition of his special song so much, that often his frustration had shown through.

It's just not right! he exclaimed, as he crumpled up another musical score he'd composed before throwing it into the waste paper basket.

Nancy, seeing her father agitated, remarked, I do wish you wouldn't torment yourself dad. It's only a song! You're far more important than any song you could ever compose!

Dad looked towards Nancy tenderly and inviting her across to the piano, he embraced her. Following a moment of reflective silence he said, As you grow older and wiser dear daughter, you'll come to understand that the singer is never more important than the song - as the song provides the reason for the singer's purpose in life!

Nancy's puzzled look invited her father to continue with his explanation.

Close your eyes Nancy dear and try to imagine a world without music and song! Why, it would be as barren as the widest desert! Have you ever thought, dear child, why birds sing? The answer is as old as the hills; it is simply because there is a song to be sung!

Dad gave Nancy another gently hug before saying, We are all but single notes on a sheet of life Nancy dear - each one of us contributing our talents to a greater good in the playing out of a more wholesome song!

I see what you're getting ad dad! Nancy replied. We all help to make the music of life in our own special ways!

That's it precisely dear daughter! You've got it! Some are destined to sculpt, some to paint, some to play out their talents dramatically on stage, while others are destined to forge their talent into wood, steel, glass, iron or weave it into garments of cloth.

So you see dear Nancy, the singer is a labourer of love and the product of his endeavours is the song he fashions from his talents, for the collective benefit of all!

Nancy looked up at her father lovingly as he concluded his words of wisdom. "God gave me that talent of composing songs, but to you, He gave the voice to sing them.