The Last Coal Barge

By Gwen Grant

When Danny loses his dog, Skip, on the site of the old Pit, he’s worried that Skip has gone down a rabbit hole and will die if he can’t find him.
Luckily, a stranger, Jarrad Turner, a boy Danny doesn’t know, rescues Skip. Jarrad insists he lives at Lock Cottage but Danny knows the Carters live there.Is there a mystery about Jarrad Turner? Will THE LAST COAL BARGE ever sail again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gwen Grant
• Release date: Dec 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301896684

Gwen Grant

I have been writing for over 40 years and have loved every minute. I started writing poetry, then radio short stories, then books. My first novel, PRIVATE-KEEP OUT has been called 'the funniest children's book ever written' by Lucy Mangan of The Guardian newspaper. I've won the ACORN AWARD for picture books and have been short-listed for many other awards.At present, I am working on a new children's novel and have just finished the first draft of an adult novel.

Book preview

THE LAST COAL BARGE

by Gwen Grant

.

.

.

Published 2011 by gwengrantbooks

Copyright © Gwen Grant 2011

Smashwords Edition

.

When Danny loses his dog, Skip, on the site of the old Pit, he’s worried that Skip has gone down a rabbit hole and will die if he can’t find him.

Luckily, a stranger, Jarrad Turner, a boy Danny doesn’t know, rescues Skip.

Jarrad has two unusual pets of his own - a pony and a blackbird which cause Danny some anxiety.

Jarrad insists he lives at Lock Cottage but Danny knows the Carters live there. Is there a mystery about Jarrad Turner?Does Danny’s Grandad know anything about him?

THE LAST COAL BARGE is now a sunken wreck in the deep water of the Pit’s old coal loading bay.

What has happened to Jarrad in the past?

How does Danny’s Grandad know him?

And will THE LAST COAL BARGE ever sail again?

CHAPTER ONE

When my Dad’s on nights, I always go and meet him off the bus. I like going to meet him because I like walking down the canal bank and taking Skip with me. Well, I used to like taking Skip until he began to run away. Now, I have to keep him on the lead and he hates that so much, I always end up carrying him.

‘You need to train that dog,’ my Dad says. ‘Sort him out.’

But Skip won’t be trained, so I’m stuck.

I was a bit late getting up this morning so I was a bit late getting out which was why, when I got to the bottom of our path, there was a tap tap tap on the top bedroom window.

My sister, Daisy.

‘Can I come?’ Daisy shouts.

‘No!’ I shout back, and walk on, so then Daisy banged on the glass so hard, it almost broke.

Even from where I was, I heard my Mum yell at her.

‘Daisy!’ she yelled. ‘Stop that and get back into bed.’

And our Daisy is only six years old.

‘Six going on sixty,’ my Gran always says.

By the time Daisy was back in bed, I must have been almost at the village, with Skip so glad to be out, he was dancing in and out of my feet, almost tripping me up.

A long time ago in our village, there used to be a Coal mine but then it closed and now they’re knocking it down and putting a Marina in its place.

‘A life on the ocean wave, eh?’ my Grandad had said, looking at the canal, which only had a slick of water lying on top of the mud. ‘They’ll need a sight more water than that if boats are going to come up here.’

There are workmen all over, clumping about in their big boots, their yellow hats bobbing up and down as they walk.

‘When I was a lad,’ my Grandad went on, ‘there was so much water in that canal, we used to swim in it.’

You wouldn’t want to swim in it now. That mud’s so thick, it could drag you down by your ankles.

By the time the clock on the church struck seven, I was on the bridge looking down to the bus stop at the far end of the canal, looking for my Dad because if the bus had been on time, he would be walking down the canal bank. But he wasn’t on the canal bank, so I knew the bus was late.

From where I was standing, I could see Lock Cottage halfway down the canal path, which is where Mr. and Mrs. Carter live.

My Grandad said a Lock-keeper used to live there and when the coal barges sailed up or down the water, the Lock-keeper would open the Lock gates for them but when the barges stopped, Mr. and Mrs. Carter went to live in Lock Cottage instead.

My Mum had bought me a book about barges and there was a drawing of Cleopatra’s barge in it.