Rocky's Home Run

By Jayne Woodhouse

The third volume in the stories about Rocky the Greyhound and his effect on the Stephenson family.

There was definitely something going on in our shed. I was sure of it.’ Why is Marcus hiding away with Rocky? What does it have to do with Marcus and Darren becoming star pupils at school? Anna is in for a big surprise when she discovers Rocky’s new talent.

Meanwhile, things are looking up for the Stephensons, with Mum’s new job and Dad in charge at home. Even Gran has a new boyfriend, although Rocky’s not impressed!

But danger is never far away, as Rocky’s old enemy reappears to turn all their lives upside down. Then Anna finds she has important lessons to learn about friendship and growing up.

The captivating story of one remarkable greyhound and the people whose lives he will change forever.

The thrilling conclusion to the Rocky the Greyhound trilogy

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Clucket Press
• Release date: Nov 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781909568020

Jayne Woodhouse

Jayne Woodhouse is an established author with a wide variety of publications to her name. She has been published by the BBC, PCET, Heinemann and Longman. The Stephensons’ Rocket was her first novel. The sequal, And Rocky Too, is also published by The Cluckett Press. Jayne lives in Southampton, England.

Book preview

We were famous – or rather Rocky was. We’d all tried to grab the newspaper out of Dad’s hands when he brought it home that Saturday, because there we were on the front page!

‘What a lovely picture of Rocky,’ said Dad.

Rocky came trotting over as soon as he heard his name and pushed his nose onto the table to see what we were looking at.

‘Here you are in the paper, Rocky boy,’ said Dad, ‘aren’t you handsome!’

Rocky didn’t seem to share our excitement; it wasn’t a dog treat after all, so he walked off and went back to the really important business of the day: sleeping.

‘Here’s a great bit about Anna: quick-thinking – I like that,’ said Mum.

I was rather proud of that part too, but I kept quiet because I didn’t want anyone to think I was boasting.

Darren was busily scanning the page, running his finger down the lines. ‘It hasn’t got me in at all!’ he grumbled.

‘Why should it say anything about you? I’m the one who found them – remember?’ I told him.

Darren shut up quick. He’d been telling everybody at school he’d helped me find Marcus and he knew Mum would go mad if she discovered he was telling lies. So far I hadn’t let on, because it gave me one over Darren and I meant to make the most of it.

‘Never mind, love,’ said Mum, ‘it doesn’t mention me either. We can always say we didn’t want any publicity, like some of those big celebrities do.’

‘They’ve got this part wrong, though,’ Darren went on, ‘it says you’re 32, Dad, and that’s not right is it? You’re loads older than 32.’

We all turned to look at Dad, who’d gone bright red. ‘They must have made a mistake,’ he mumbled, though none of us believed him. ‘Still, it’s not far wrong is it? And everybody says I look young for my age.’

‘You mean, everybody says you’ve never grown up,’ Mum sighed, but she was smiling at the same time.

‘I like what Marcus says about Rocky,’ said Dad, hurrying to change the subject. ‘Doesn’t sound like him, though, does it?’

‘I expect the reporter helped him,’ said Mum kindly.

I suppose the reporter had to think of something to write. Nobody would want to read, ‘Yeah, well, s’alright, like,’ which is what Marcus had probably said.

I took the newspaper next door to show Wilf, taking the short cut through the gate in the garden fence with Rocky trotting along behind me. Rocky never missed an opportunity to go round Wilf’s, because he knew he always got something good to eat. And since Marcus had come to live there too, Rocky loved going to play with his best friend.

‘Look, Wilf, we’re in the paper …’ I began, but it was obvious Wilf already knew, because he was sitting at the kitchen table with a big pile of newspapers, cutting out the front pages.

‘Saw it in the newsagent’s, so I got ten copies,’ Wilf said. ‘I’m taking one to show the lad’s mum.’

Lisa was still too poorly to have many visitors, but Wilf went to the hospital whenever he could, to tell her all the news about Marcus.

‘Hiya, Marcus,’ I said as he came through the door, but I don’t think he heard me because Rocky was too busy jumping all over him. ‘Want to come up the park with me and Dad later on and give Rocky his run?’

‘Naw, got some diggin’ to do,’ Marcus said, when Rocky had calmed down a bit, ‘we gotta plant them spuds, ain’t we, Wilf?’

‘That’s right, son,’ beamed Wilf.

It was hard to imagine Marcus Harding spending an afternoon gardening, but he was full of surprises since Wilf had taken him in.

‘Rocky can come round and keep us company after you get home,’ said Wilf.

I knew Rocky would just find a warm patch of sunshine and doze off, but that wouldn’t bother Marcus or Wilf.

I couldn’t believe how fast news of Marcus had spread, or how many people wanted to see Rocky. When Dad and me took him to the park later on, people started pointing at us. Then more and more of them came hurrying over, until we were surrounded by a big crowd.

‘Look!’ ‘There he is!’ ‘That’s him!’ ‘That’s the greyhound what found the boy!’ people were saying, as they pushed forward to get a closer look. Some got out their phones and started taking pictures, while Rocky stood up tall, like a film star posing on the red carpet.

Then somebody noticed me and called out, ‘There’s that girl what helped the dog!’ So I had to stand beside Rocky and have my photo taken as well, which was really embarrassing.

When Dad let Rocky off the lead for his run, everyone began cheering, as he hurtled across the field, his paws hardly touching the ground. Watching Rocky run is one of the best things ever, because you’d never believe how fast a greyhound can go until you’ve seen one. Rocky’s racing name was Sheldon Rocket, and he was exactly like a rocket shooting over the grass.

Afterwards, our dog stood patiently while everyone waited to stroke and pat him. Perhaps Rocky was remembering his days as a champion racer and thought all this attention was only what he deserved.

People were so busy with Rocky that I think I was the only one who spotted the rusty old white van parked on the other side of the fence. I wouldn’t normally have taken any notice, but it was a bit unusual, because you’re not allowed to park your cars there. Besides, the van reminded me of something, although I couldn’t think what it was. I was standing there staring, trying to remember where I might have seen it before, when the van suddenly started up and sped off down the road, half-hidden in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

‘Hey, Anna!’ Dad’s voice made me jump. ‘You were miles away. Everything OK, love?’

I must have been daydreaming, because I hadn’t even seen Rocky’s admirers drift away. ‘I’m fine, Dad,’ I told him.

And I was, really, although something was bothering me. It just didn’t seem important enough to mention – not then.

2

We couldn’t wait to tell Mum and Darren about the people in the park.

‘Wish I’d gone, then they’d have wanted my picture as well,’ grumbled Darren.

‘No they wouldn’t, because you weren’t in the paper,’ I snapped.

‘Don’t start, please, Anna,’ said Dad, ‘and Darren, finish your homework next time, if you want to go out with Rocky.’

It seemed like Dad was always the one telling us off lately, since he’d been staying home with us. That’s how much things had changed after Mum got her important new job and Dad lost his. Still, at least he shut Darren up.

‘Well, I think it’s great,’ Mum carried on; ‘Rocky’s got his very own fan club! I expect people will be asking for his autograph soon.’

‘No, they won’t do that, love,’ said Dad, and I could feel one of his terrible jokes coming on, ‘it’ll have to be his pawgraph!’

Me and Mum groaned, like we usually do, but Darren didn’t join in. He was standing there with his mouth open, as if he was thinking hard. I didn’t get chance to ask him if his brain hurt, because there was somebody at the door.

‘COO-EE! COO-EE!’ we heard, as Gran came bursting in. ‘Put the kettle on, will you, Jo love, my feet are killing me.’ She kicked off her six-inch heels and collapsed on the settee, rubbing her toes. ‘Now where’s that famous dog of yours? Saw him in the paper.’

I looked around for Rocky, but he’d disappeared and so had Darren.

‘Never mind; brought him a couple of pork chops, but they’ll keep in the fridge. Come here, Anna my lovely, and give us a hug.’ Gran held out her arms.

‘Nice hairdo, mum,’ said Dad.

Gran’s hair was bright orange with several long strands hanging down the back. When I got close, I could make out the faint smell of burning through the flowery perfume she always wore.

‘Had some extensions put in,’ Gran explained, flicking her head from side to side. ‘It’s amazing how they do it – they stick them on with hot glue, you know. Ever so natural, aren’t they?’

‘Looks like they stuck on a bit of horse’s tail, if you ask me,’ laughed Dad.

‘Well, that shows how much you know, Peter,’ sniffed Gran. She looked around to check Mum was still in the kitchen. ‘And I hope you’re behaving yourself, my lad. No more of your gallivanting off to Birmingham.’

After last time, when Dad disappeared on one of his mad ideas, Gran gave him a real good telling off and now she was always checking up on him.

‘You don’t need to worry about me, mum,’ said Dad and he wasn’t joking around any more. ‘I know I’m on my final warning. It’s taken me long enough, but I’ve learnt my lesson.’

Dad looked over at me and I gave him a big thumbs-up. So far, Dad was doing everything he could to prove we could trust him, at last.

Mum came back in then, with our mugs of tea, while Gran rummaged around in one of her shopping bags. ‘Here we are, Jo, got you a nice bag of doughnuts off the market. Only a few days past the sell-by date. Lovely with a cup of tea, they are.’

‘Thanks, Su… – I mean Stella,’ said Mum. Gran’s real name is Susan, but she hates being called that. ‘But we’ve had such a big lunch, I think I’d better keep them for another day.’

Phew! Mum’s quick thinking had saved us!

‘Suit yourselves,’ Gran drained her tea. ‘I’ll be off, then.’

‘Give Wilf our love, won’t you?’ Mum said, helping Gran gather up all her bits and pieces. Gran always went to see Wilf and Marcus whenever she could. We sometimes got chance to warn Wilf first, so he could pretend to be busy.

‘Wilf?’ asked Gran, looking surprised. ‘Haven’t got time to see Wilf today. It’s Argentine Tango afternoon at the new dance studio. Carlo says I’ve got lovely hips.’ And with that, Gran shimmied out the door, only wobbling a little bit on her high heels.

Dad grabbed hold of Mum. ‘Senora, may I ’ave ze pleasure of zis dance?’ he announced in a dreadful accent.

‘Oh, Carlo, you are so handsome,’ Mum replied, batting her eyelashes.

Dad pulled a flower out of the vase, stuck it between his teeth and began whirling her around the living room, until all three of us collapsed in a fit of giggles. It seemed like a long time since I’d seen Mum and Dad have fun together, but it was worth waiting for.

3

‘It’s very quiet. Whatever’s Darren up to?’ Mum asked, when she’d got her breath back. ‘And where’s Rocky?’

‘Perhaps he’s started that homework, finally,’ said Dad, although he didn’t sound very hopeful. ‘Go and see if he’s in his room, please, Anna. Ask him if he’d like a doughnut.’

I crept upstairs so Darren wouldn’t hear me coming and flung open his bedroom door without knocking.

Darren nearly jumped out of his skin. ‘Who said you could come in?’ he yelled at me.

You should have seen the mess. Darren was on the floor with Rocky, surrounded by sheets of paper and there were big black splodges all over