Rhona's Bike (The First Book in the Lobbs Bottom Series)

By Robert William Saul Harvey

The first of the Lobbs Bottom novels: Set in 1955 in the small mining village of Lobbs Bottom.
Rhona is a ten-year-old, mentally retarded child with a pronounced lisp; she has a demanding nature, and lives in her own little world, which centres around her specially adapted tricycle, her bike, and her toy teddy bear, Barney. Frustration-driven temper tantrums are common and woe betides anyone who upsets her.
Rhona’s only real friend, Beryl, is twelve-years-old and her only reason for being Rhona’s friend is so that she can be near to Rhona’s fourteen-year-old brother, Darren for whom she holds an unrequited love.
When Rhona disappears, leaving her bike behind, her mother, Stella, with Beryl’s help, frantically sets off in search of Rhona, whilst her injured father, Degs, remains at home unable to do anything but wait.
A known paedophile lives in the village along with his witch-like wife and their forty-three year old son, who is actually their nephew, and has the mind of a six-year-old.
Darren, Rhona’s brother, eventually joins in with the search and proves he’s not just a pretty face after all.
Then,
When Rhona’s bike disappears, Darren has to...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert William Saul Harvey
• Release date: Jan 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310751639

Robert William Saul Harvey

Robert was born in 1949 in the small Scottish hamlet of Douglas West, Douglas in Lanarkshire, but moved to England when his father, a miner, had to move south for a job.Having left school at the age of fifteen, without any qualifications whatsoever, he started work in a small engineering firm. He soon got fed up coming home covered in dirty grease and having a spotty face so, after six months, decided that engineering was not for him. With nothing to lose, he ran away to sea, so to speak. He joined the Merchant Navy and happily spent three and a half years travelling the world and getting paid for it!Meeting his future wife at the age of nineteen convinced Robert to leave the sea and settle down. There were not many jobs around for a nineteen-year-old and he ended up doing bar/cellar work until deciding to get married at the age of twenty. That was when he joined the Royal Air Force, in which he spent nine years as a Clerk Secretarial, attaining the rank of Corporal before leaving in 1979.After applying for various jobs, Robert finally got one with the National Coal Board in a colliery Stores Department. Ok, this would do him for a while, whilst he looked around for something better. Thirty years later, as a Supply and Contracts Manager, he retired from the Coal Industry at the age of fifty-nine and now has an allotment where he plays at growing vegetables (very nice they are too), and spends his spare time dabbling on his laptop; bliss.Now, with seven books on Smashwords, an eighth under construction, and number nine in the pipeline, who knows where it will stop?Second in the series, Beryl's Pup is now also available.

Book preview

Prologue

With a deafening roar, like the coming of the Apocalypse, the old Victorian school-house exploded in a massive ball of flame.

First, shattered glass and wood flew out in all directions. Flames erupted from within, followed by gushing plumes of thick black smoke, which quickly spiraled upwards, and outwards, like a growing mushroom.

Pressure, build-up inside the building, caused the walls to bulge outwards. Unable to contain the pressure any longer, bricks and mortar flew apart.

The entire building heaved and shuddered as the roof collapsed inwards, and the walls fell outwards.

An immense cloud of swirling dust and debris enveloped the playground, obscuring further sight of the explosion, although the noise continued to reverberate around the surrounding buildings for some seconds before slowly fading away.

None of the nearby surrounding buildings appeared to suffer any damage.

When the dust finally settled, the scene was one of complete devastation.

All that remained of the once proud building was a heap of smoldering rubble with flames leaping upwards from many piles of timber beams, bricks, and broken furniture.

More, white smoke billowed up from the tangled mass, to mingle with the black smoke already blotting out the weak evening light of the setting sun.

The solitary figure of a young girl, neatly dressed in her school uniform, stood across the road from the remains of the school. With her feet apart, and her hands on hips, she surveyed the devastation with a wide grin on her face. Laughter danced in her eyes. Her shoulders gently shook as a satisfied chuckle rippled from her throat.

An elderly couple, out for a pleasant walk before retiring for the night, looked askance at the girl, with puzzled frowns on their faces.

The old man turned to the woman and made a mystified smile.

The woman raised her eyebrows and responded with a similar smile.

The man shrugged his shoulders, slipped an arm around the woman’s waist, and quietly bade her to quicken her pace.

The schoolgirl either did not notice the couple walking by, or ignored them. She continued to grin at the burning remains of the old school building.

After a while, apparently happy with the results of her labors, the schoolgirl turned away, and walked downhill, keeping to the sidewalk.

With her head held high, her arms swinging by her sides, and her feet making measured steps, she looked like some kind of schoolgirl-cum-soldier marching away in triumph.

Mission accomplished…

Chapter 1

A hot, sunny August day in 1955.

One or two isolated clouds drifted lazily on a light breeze.

Stella Carlew, a slim 38 years old natural brunette, paused for a moment, and smiled happily to herself, as she looked out her kitchen window, her eyes reflecting the love beating within her.

Pausing from her task, washing the dishes, now that breakfast was over, she allowed her arms to rest easily on the edge of the ceramic sink, a cloth in one hand.

She exhaled a content sigh, lowered her eyes, and returned to the task in hand.

Her husband, Derek, or ‘Degs,’ as he preferred, 40 years old, had ensconced himself in his office, a compact space under the stairs. In the office, with room at a premium, a chair, and a small table serving as a desk, took up most of the space.

Son, Darren, 14 years old, had gone out earlier, with some of his friends from school.

Daughter, Rhona, 10 years old, the reason for Stella’s smile, played alone, in the so-called Rec—a bare patch of ground—onto which, the rear garden of their house backed.

Rhona happily pedaled slowly, round and round in circles, on her specially adapted tricycle.

Although Stella could not hear anything from where she was standing, she knew Rhona would chatter away to her special friend, Barney, the teddy bear she always carried in the wire basket fixed to the handlebars of her bike.

Stella used the back of her right hand to wipe a tear from her eye; life could be so unfair. She sniffed, swallowed back a sob, and carried on with washing the breakfast dishes…

***

Rhona.

Born in a damp, cold and dingy bedroom, in an old two-up, two-down terraced house, with no hot water.

Stella had immediately thought there was something, ‘not right,’ about her.

The midwife had smacked the baby’s bottom, hard, and, true, Rhona had cried, a hesitant and somewhat halfhearted cry, not the expected full-blown wail of a newborn baby. When her eyes opened, Rhona looked around the poorly lit room, slow and unfocused. She appeared disinterested in what she saw, as if she never knew what her eyes were for, and quickly, too quickly, stopped crying and fell asleep.

Rhona?

Stella had noticed the sad look in the midwife’s eyes before she had a chance to hide her concern and knew there must be something wrong with her newborn daughter.

Rhona?

When Stella had tried to question the midwife about the way Rhona was acting, the nurse had pooh-poohed any suggestion there might be something out of the ordinary, and brushed away her concerns.

Rhona?

But,

When awake, Stella had to encourage Rhona to feed. Rhona would often fall asleep whilst sucking at the bottle. Her mother had to wake her up and encourage her to take more.

That can’t be right.

Stella’s initial fears for her daughter’s health, and the way she appeared to be less than bright, were proved correct in the years to come. She would catch every cold going, chickenpox and measles, plus the dreaded scarlet fever.

However, she somehow survived them all…

***

Washing dishes was not Stella’s favorite chore, merely one of those mundane tasks that needed doing, and she was the only one capable of doing it to her own exacting standards.

Rhona was too small and clumsy.

Darren was a boy and everyone knows boys just cannot wash up properly. Greasy plates, cutlery, and wet utensils hastily crammed into cupboards and drawers, in no proper order, being testament to this.

Degs would try to help, sometimes, although he proved to be more of a hindrance than a help, so she preferred to do these things on her own. At least, she knew she did correctly them.

There always seemed to be a lot more washing-up to do during the school summer holiday period, the children being at home, which, thankfully, would be over in another week, when the schools re-opened for the autumn semester.

Stella spent a lot of her time in the kitchen during the school holidays, cooking, cleaning, washing dishes, and washing clothes. At least it allowed her to keep a watchful eye on Rhona whenever she was playing in the Rec.

Stella expertly finished washing the dishes, dried them up, and put them away in their rightful places. She firmly believed in a place for everything and everything in its place, just as her mom and her mom before her. She also believed in doing jobs immediately, not putting things off until later; that’s how some jobs never got done. She liked to know everything was up-to-date.

‘Right, outside next,’ she thought as she hung the tea towel on the rail by the Rayburn stove to dry. She wanted to get out, go into the garden on this sunny Saturday morning, while she had the chance to do so.

The man on the radio had forecast rain for later, early evening.

She really ought to mow the lawn before the rain came—another of those jobs she liked to do herself.

The grass looked a mess, especially where dandelions, and a few buttercups, stood proudly above the top of what little grass there was. Also, there were weeds in, and between the rows of vegetables; they would need removing.

‘How on Earth, do dandelions and buttercups survive, when the grass is dying through lack of water?’ she mused.

It fell to Stella to do nearly everything inside and outside the house. Had done so ever since Degs’ accident…

***

Before she went out to mow the back lawn, Stella felt an urgent need to visit the toilet and moaned, ‘Why do I suddenly need to pee whenever I have to leave the house?’

She made her way towards the doorway leading into the front hall.

The outside toilet was a brick-built outhouse, half of which was the actual toilet, the other half served as a coal-house.

The outhouse was situated to the left-hand side of the building—an extension to the house—and made for a chilly place in winter.

On this occasion, Stella used the upstairs toilet instead—much more comfortable than the outside one.

She glanced at the clock sitting on the small shelf above and to the right of the gas cooker. It was almost ten o’clock already.

‘Where on Earth does the time go?’ she wondered.

She said a passing, Hello, to her husband as she climbed to stairs. At the top, she turned into the first room on the right and propped the small window in the toilet open, as it usually was on such pleasant days. She had just entered the room when she heard someone knocking on the door front door.

She gritted her teeth and moaned, Who the heck is that?

But,

She knew she had no choice but to go downstairs and answer the door. She would have to postpone her visit to the toilet. No way would Degs be able to shift himself from under the stairs before whoever it was must have got fed up waiting and went away. Even though he was only a matter of eight or nine feet from the door, he would expect Stella to answer it.

She smoothed down the front of her short-sleeved, blue dress. As she did so, she noticed the petite, dark blue flowers on the dress were looking rather faded. She made a mental note only to wear it in the house, or garden. At one time, quite a few years beforehand, it had been a beautiful dress, and she loved wearing it.

Well, nothing lasts forever.

In one way, maybe it was just as well they never went out anywhere since Degs’ accident.

She only had one other decent frock with long sleeves, which made it much too warm for the weather they were currently experiencing.

Her white slip-on shoes had rubber soles so made no sound as she walked down the stairs and padded across the brown linoleum in the hallway.

One day, she promised herself; she would have a carpet in the hallway; it would make it look more welcoming to anyone waiting at the front door.

She had no idea when she could fulfill that promise.

Maybe one day.

She smiled weakly at Degs as she stepped off the bottom stair.

‘No problem,’ she thought.

He gave her a wave in thanks, without looking up from the sheet of paper on which he was writing.

The knocking got louder and more insistent.

She mumbled to herself beneath her breath, Okay. Hold your horses. I’m coming.

She patted at her hair, in case it was someone important. It would not do for her to appear in any way disheveled. Might be a neighbor calling round.

To Stella, appearances were important.

Although she rarely wore any make-up, mainly because she did not need any with her almost flawless complexion, she liked to keep herself, her husband, and her children looking respectable.

‘This had better be good,’ she thought.

When she opened the front door, the cheerful face of a young girl, about four feet ten inches tall, dressed in a plain white blouse, red skirt, white ankle-socks, and white pumps, confronted Stella. Her short brown hair looked slightly damp, as if only recently washed.

Good morning, Mrs. Carlew, said the girl with a big bright smile. Her clear brown eyes reflected the light from the sun.

Stella returned her smile.

Good morning, Beryl.

She liked Beryl Dempster. Beryl was always a polite, carefree child, and she came round most days to spend time with Rhona.

Even though Beryl was twelve years old, and Rhona had only just turned ten, Beryl was Rhona’s best friend, and mothered her. Beryl was the only person Rhona really liked, other than her brother, Darren, and the only person she would entrust with any girlie secrets.

However, Stella had long suspected, there might be an ulterior motive behind Beryl’s friendship with Rhona. It had more than a little to do with the way Beryl flashed her eyes at Darren whenever they met and always gave him her best smile.

Poor girl, she failed to see he was not the least bit interested in her; fourteen-year-old boys did not go out with twelve-year-old girls.

Still, you never knew what the future might hold.

‘Puppy love, now, those were the days.’

The thought crossed Stella’s mind; if Beryl had called to use the toilet, she would have to send her round the back to use the outside toilet, not upstairs. There was no way she would let the girl use the upstairs toilet. That was reserved for family.

Can Rhona come out to play please, Mrs. Carlew? asked Beryl as she stood on the front doorstep with her hands clasped behind her back, her head slightly tilted to one side, and expectation on her face.

The thought crossed Stella’s mind, ‘Young girls are growing up so quickly nowadays,’ before she asked, Rhona? Why, she’s playing outside on her bike. She’s round the back, in the Rec.

Stella nodded her head toward the entrance to the alleyway which passed between two houses, a short distance down the road; this being one of four such entrances leading into the Rec.

She silently urged Beryl to get gone, quickly. She so wanted to go to the toilet. The need to empty her bladder was making her rather uncomfortable.

Is she?

The girl sounded puzzled. Her expression changed to reflect this.

Stella frowned at the look of uncertainty on Beryl’s face.

Yes, she said. She’s been out there for over an hour now. Thinking, ‘Surely she’s not that thick?’

Beryl shook her head emphatically, I didn’t see her when I came across the Rec just now.

Now it was Stella’s turn to look puzzled.

You must’ve missed her then. She’s definitely out there. I saw her myself, a few minutes ago.

Stella spoke quickly and gave the girl a reassuring smile.

‘Come on, come on,’ she silently urged Beryl to get a move on.

Oh. Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Carlew. I must have missed her. I’ll go back and see if I can find her, shall I?

Beryl turned and dawdled down the short path towards the front gate, wondering, ‘Why didn’t she let me go through the house to the Rec?’

Okay, Beryl. Take care, Stella called after her.

‘Now, get a move on, will you?’

I will. Goodbye, Mrs. Carlew.

Beryl threw Stella a brief wave. She did not look back, mumbling under her breath, She’s not too happy today. I wonder what’s wrong.

Goodbye, Stella sighed.

She had not meant to rush the poor girl like that and felt angry with herself for doing so, but she urgently needed to pee. Her bladder would not wait much longer.

She quickly closed the door, done another little jig, and hurried back upstairs to the toilet.

Degs noticed Stella dancing about as she shut the door and knew what that meant.

He laughed as she hurried up the stairs.

It would’ve been quicker to nip outside, he said.

She muttered something unintelligible under her breath and rushed into the bathroom.

When she finished, she pulled the chain and winced as the water rushed down from the overhead cast-iron cistern, making a thunderous noise, heard all over the house.

She made a silent groan when she heard someone else knocking on the front door.

‘Who on Earth is it this time?’

She made a mental note to wash her hands once she finished with whoever was at the door.

She made her way down the stairs once more and into the hallway.

She made a face when she spotted a cobweb in a corner, next to the small window at the side of the door and made a mental note to get her ‘stick with a duster on it’ from the cupboard under the kitchen sink, where she kept it, and make the web a thing of the past. The spider would just have to find somewhere else to set up home. She was not one of those women afraid of the tiniest of spiders, and she would never knowingly kill one. She knew what a good job spiders did, keeping down the population of other beasties that normally made their homes in people’s houses. However, that cobweb definitely had to go.

Opening the door again, Stella raised her eyebrows in surprise when she saw Beryl standing on the doorstep.

This time, the girl had a worried smile on her face. She had her hands clasped in front of her and bobbed up and down on her toes, in an agitated manner. Her now dusty white pumps and white socks provided evidence of her recent trip into the Rec.

‘What now?’ wondered Stella. A frown creased her forehead.

Hello, Mrs. Carlew. It’s me again. Beryl sounded very apologetic as she pulled a face and shrugged her shoulders.

Yes, Beryl, so I see. What is it this time?

Sometimes, Beryl could be a bit of a nuisance. She kept coming to the house for the most trivial of reasons. Perhaps, a glass of water, to use the toilet, to get some little toy for Rhona, a book, a pen, her paint set, or did Stella know that Rhona had just wet her pants or, when she was merely trying to glimpse Darren.

I’ve been into the Rec and had a look round everywhere for Rhona but, I really can’t find her.

She looked expectantly at Stella, slowly shaking her head from side to side.

Well, she’s most definitely in the Rec.

Stella leaned forward, looked up and down the street, as if she were somehow expecting Rhona to appear out front, before adding, Are you sure you looked everywhere?

She refrained from voicing the thought, ‘You stupid girl! I’ve just told you where Rhona was, a few minutes ago.’

Stella looked down into Beryl’s glistening eyes. She saw no sign the girl was playing some trick on her. She stepped out onto the doorstep and pulled the door behind her so it was almost closed.

Beryl took a step backwards to make room for her.

Yes. I’ve looked all round the Rec, she said, but she’s not there, honest.

Beryl raised her eyebrows and shrugged once more, a picture of innocence.

Stella lowered her voice and snapped at the girl, Don’t be silly, Beryl. She is. She’s out there playing on her bike.

She instantly regretted letting the irritation show.

No. She’s not, insisted Beryl, smiling, but the smile had changed somewhat, and had now become one of uncertainty.

She thought, ‘Why is Mrs. Carlew being so upset with me? There must be something wrong.’

Stella frowned.

‘This’s getting silly. Surely I would have heard something if Rhona had come back into the house while I was in the toilet?’

Rhona was not the quietest of girls at the best of times. She would make a lot of noise when getting herself a drink of water from the kitchen. She could never close a door without slamming it.

Something about Beryl’s insistence set a small alarm bell ringing in the back of Stella’s mind.

Stella shook her head and forced herself to smile indulgently as she attempted to make amends.

She said, Yes, she is in the Rec. I helped her to get her bike out of the shed and took it into the Rec for her. Look again, please. There’s a splendid girl. Eh?

In her mind, she followed this with, ‘And look properly this time.’

Oh. Yes. Well, her bike’s in the Rec okay, said Beryl. I’ve seen it. It’s down near the bottom end. But she’s not there with it. Honest.

She wriggled her shoulders and held her hands, palms outward, to show she was not lying, her face a picture of innocence.

She could not understand why Mrs. Carlew didn’t believe what she was saying.

‘I’m not silly, you know.’

Beryl heaved a sigh of exasperation.

Stella stared at the girl, doubt in her eyes.

‘Down at the bottom end? She was almost directly outside this house a few minutes ago.’

Stella discarded the thought.

It took no time at all for Rhona to cycle from one end of the Rec to the other, so why should she not be down at the bottom end?

She must be there or thereabouts, she argued. She won’t be far away. She never leaves her bike—she’s afraid someone will steal it if she lets it out of her sight.

Another hint of irritation, or perhaps of fear, crept back into Stella’s voice.

Now, she wanted the girl to go away, quickly. She felt the urge to close the door, hurry through into the kitchen, to see if she could spot Rhona through the window.

If Rhona was somewhere out of sight, she would go out through the back gate, and search the Rec herself.

Well, her bike’s out there all right and she’s not. Beryl’s smile disappeared. Her previous look of innocence being replaced by one of meek defiance. I’m not lying, she insisted.

Beryl never told lies. Well, not big lies anyway. Sometimes she found it necessary to tell minor lies. Nothing too naughty, though. Enormous lies, when found out, eventually earned a slap on the legs. Enormous lies were off the menu.

She is. She must be. Stella tried to contain her growing irritation with the child. Have another look. I bet she’s talking to someone, or sitting down in the grass, playing with Barney, and you just can’t see her, that’s all.

The look she threw Beryl’s way made the girl keep her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself.

‘I can tell you don’t believe me.’

Beryl made a quiet, ‘huff,’ and shrugged her shoulders exaggeratedly as she reluctantly turned and headed away in search of Rhona once more. She wanted to tell Mrs. Carlew how Barney, Rhona’s toy teddy bear, was not there either. However, she would let Mrs. Carlew find that out for herself.

It was not fair; she was being made to go all the way round the alley and back. She could just as easily have gone through the house and out through the gate in the back fence. It would have been a lot quicker.

‘It’s not my fault Rhona’s disappeared,’ she huffed silently.

Stella watched in silence as Beryl ran down the path towards the alleyway. She had an uneasy feeling about this.

‘Stupid girl.’

Degs spoke to her as she walked past him on her way through the hallway to the kitchen.

Was that Beryl again at the door, gal? he asked.

Yeah. She’s making a bit of a nuisance of herself today, she replied.

Oh, right? Make us a cup of tea will you, there’s a love?

Stella hesitated briefly.

‘Rhona’s gone missing and you want a cup of tea?’

She was in two minds whether to; tell him to either, wait until she got back from hunting for Rhona or, get off his backside and make one himself.

She did not want to worry him—yet.

So,

She did neither.

Okay, love, two minutes. she said.

She quickly washed her hands under the cold-water tap, wiped them on a tea towel, before she picked up the kettle, and removed the whistling cap from it. She filled the kettle from the cold tap over the sink, replaced the whistling cap, and lit one of the gas rings on the cooker before placing the kettle on it.

‘Tea. Huh. I ask you.’

She stared at the kettle.

She could nip out and have a quick look in the Rec, whilst the kettle was boiling.

Before she could take a step towards the back door, there was yet another knock on the front door.

‘Now who is it?’ as if she did not know.

She heaved an irritated sigh as she quickly made her way through to the front door.

Busy today, said Degs.

Stella did not respond as she hurried along the short hallway.

She almost, though not quite, let out a cry of frustration at the sight of Beryl standing, yet again, on the front doorstep.

‘What the…,’ she caught herself in time.

Beryl?

She deliberately kept her voice low and calm, a tight-lipped smile on her face. She put a finger to her lips, to warn Beryl to keep her voice low.

She’s definitely not there, Mrs. Carlew, whispered Beryl. She’s not. Honest. I’ve really looked everywhere; all over the Rec.

Her tone was one of insistence.

This time there was no smile on the girl’s face.

‘Oh no.’

Stella closed her eyes, a feeling of dread gripped her heart as she asked, Are you sure, Beryl? It’s not like Rhona to leave her bike unattended.

Beryl said, Positive. I’m sure. She’s not there. No-one’s there at all. The Rec’s empty.

Beryl heaved another exaggerated shrug of her shoulders, meaning, ‘Now do you believe me?’

All right, Beryl, said Stella. I believe you. Let me turn the kettle off. I’ll come out with you. We’ll go out through the back garden and look for her together. Come on in.

Stella stood to one side to allow Beryl to enter the house, then closed the door.

Beryl politely stood to one side.

‘At last. Now I’m being allowed into the house. I wonder if Darren’s in.’

She threw a wave at Degs, and a smile, as she hurried past him, and followed Stella into the kitchen, glancing through the open door leading into the living room in the vain hope she might catch sight of Darren.

Her heart sank.

‘Pooh, he’s not there.’

She vaguely wondered where he was.

‘I bet he’s down the park with those horrible boys.’

Stella gritted her teeth and refrained from calling Degs a Smarmy git, when she heard him giggling to himself.

She walked over to the cooker and turned the gas ring off. She didn’t want to go out of the house and leave the damn kettle whistling