Gudh Elf & Bad Elf: Book 2 - the Good Doctor

By Robin Pauc

In a land where this world ends and at least a footstep within the realm of fantasy lived a little boy called Badh Elf.

Bestselling author Robin Pauc (Is That My Child?) again takes you to Elfland, where through the medium of fantasy he looks at still more of the learning and behavioural disorders of childhood. Each story (with a sprinkling of childish humour, brilliant illustrations and some fairy magic) looks at an individual issue and helps both children and parents understand the cause and treatment.

Obsessions, shyness, silliness syndrome, personal hygiene, concrete thinking, gaming addiction, ADHD, tummy upsets, toe walking and visual inattention all receive the attention of the Good Doctor, of Tiddleton-on-Sea, Elfland. Bullying and the importance of friendship are also addressed as the lives of Elves, Goblins, Fairies, Boggarts, Bogles and even Trolls unfold in this truly magical land.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781326048075

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Gudh Elf & Bad Elf: Book 2 - the Good Doctor

GUDH ELF AND BADH ELF - BOOK II

THE GOOD DOCTOR

BY ROBIN PAUC

Copyright

First published in Great Britain in 2014

by Tinsley House Publications,

Tinsley House,

Main Road,

East Boldre,

Hampshire. SO42 7WT.

Text Copyright  ©  Robin Pauc 2014

Illustration Copyright  ©  Robin Pauc 2014

Illustrations Des Campbell

The right of Robin Pauc to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

ISBN 978-1-326-04807-5

OFFICIAL MAP OF ELFLAND 2014

1 - A WALLFLOWER

Truman Trumper had worked all his life on the family farm. As a boy he had seen the farm flourish after his grandfather Earnest Trumper had decided to grow beans as the main crop. Not just any beans, but the Irish Navvy bean (Gaseous vulgaris) which of course are the essential ingredient in baked beans. In many ways old Trumper was ahead of the game. Not only had he predicted the rising interest in this particular food, but also that his land was ideal for growing them.

The Trumper's farm was situated just to the north of the marshlands and a stone's throw from Much-Trumping-on-the-Marsh. Lying somewhat inland from the coast, the land was protected from the winds that often blew along the coast. Being nestled between the river Piddle and the Sidhe, the land was not only fertile but well drained. In fact, this corner of Elfex was so fertile, it was often described as the Garden of Elfland.

As old Trumper's reputation spread and the sales of Irish Navvy beans increased by the day, other farmers took to growing them. Soon there were factories and warehouses all around the old port of Trumpington for the production of tinned baked beans and their export by sea to Orcland. To the north depots were built at Windy Bottom, which was ideally suited to serve the export trade to both the Hooley Land and Trolland, where folk could not get enough quality beans.

By the time Truman Trumper inherited the farm, the sale of Irish Navvy beans had gone downhill. With the introduction of Gaseoless Nobilis, beans could be grown anywhere, even in poor soil, and the Orcs and Trolls were producing their own quality beans in abundance. This and the gradual appearance of supermarkets selling imported baked beans, left poor Truman without an outlet for his traditional beans. He still managed to sell a few beans to his old clients and had taken to visiting farmers' markets, but times were hard and that's a fact.

At home in the farmhouse, Melody Trumper busied herself keeping the home clean and tidy, and fed the family as best she could. Tru, as she called her husband, had always been a man of few words, but as the sale of beans slumped still further, Tru became quieter and grumpier. He was also spending more and more time away from the farm of an evening propping up the bar at the Tiddly Trumper.  Oh dear.

Minnie Trumper, Melody and Tru's little pride and joy, had always been a shy, nervous child, but of late had become a bag of nerves. Let's face it, life was never going to be easy with a name like Trumper, and she was the constant butt of somewhat cruel goblin teasing. Every day at school, mainly goblins, and a few elves, would call her names, and on occasions, creep up behind her and produce very credible armpit bottom burps.

Now, the Trumper's hadn't got a bean, so to speak, there was a lot of bickering in the house. Melody did her best to keep harmony in the household, but with her husband growing ever more tetchy and sometimes tiddly,  it was not easy. As the atmosphere grew, Minnie spent more and more time alone in her room, didn't want to go to school, and at night often awoke from a bad dream, screaming the house down.

Things came to a head on Saturday the 13th of June, when at Mr Trumper's insistence, the family attended the annual Much-Trumping-on-the-Marsh Village Fete. Having spent perhaps a little too long in the beer tent, Tru bumped into his old enemy Will Diddlyer, whose family had made their fortune off the back of hard working farmers across the county. As soon as Diddlyer called Tru Old bean, Tru's blood was up and a fight would have followed were it not for Tru's old friend Harry Coe stepping between them and steering Tru away.

The to-do, as Melody described it, was witnessed by all and sundry, and would have led to an arrest was it not for constable Riddle's pea getting jammed in his whistle. This, and dropping his notebook, which he then trod on, resulted in no arrest taking place. Jimmy Riddle, who was a Special Constable (in more ways than one), had in fact been fortunate in having what he would later describe in his report as a pea incident. One small constable trying to arrest a somewhat tiddly Trumper, when his blood was up, could have led to more than his notebook being covered in mud.

Once home, Minnie shut herself in her room, while Mr and Mrs Trumper had words. Well, I say Mr and Mrs, but it was Melody that had the words and Tru that took an ear bashing of epic proportions. Melody loved her husband dearly and had always admired him for all he did to keep the farm going, but his now constant bad temper was not doing any of them any good. Something had to be done and Melody made it perfectly clear that it was going to be done.

Upstairs, alone in her room, Minnie was lying on her bed sobbing. She loved her mum and dad but now her mother rarely hummed to herself while doing the dusting or sang while listening to the radio. She hardly ever saw her father, as he was out of the house before she was up of a morning and down the road, as her mother put it, when it was her bedtime. When she was younger her father would carry her across the fields on his shoulders and pretending to stumble, make out she was about to fall into the duck pond. Now such fun was just a memory.

Following the to-do, Minnie often had a tummy ache when she woke up on a school day, didn't want to go out and was having nightmares pretty well every night. Minnie was spending more and more time alone in her room and on the odd occasions her mother coaxed her out and took her to town, she refused to speak. In the car and in the tearooms she sat with her head down refusing to make eye contact with anyone. At home Minnie had become a very fussy eater and she had even refused to eat her mother's famous (some would say infamous) snail and button mushroom pie. Clearly, something was seriously wrong.

As things at home went from bad to worse, Tru buried himself in his work. He rarely visited the pub these days, as the last time he did, a group of migrant workers, who had witnessed the to-do at the fete, called him the tiddly thumper Trumper. That coming from a group of Eastland goblins was the final straw. Yet again, it had been his old friend Harry Coe who came to the rescue and, some might say, turned Tru's life around. Ushering him out of the pub, Harry told Tru that perhaps it was time to give up the old ways and adopt a new style of farming.

For generations now Trumper's were Beans. The thought of a Trumper not growing Irish Navvy beans was almost impossible to consider but as Harry had said, either he die-versi-flied or he would go under. Harry Coe told Tru about how the government were trying to increase the export of goods to Orcland, Trolland and The Hooley Land and how they were offering lots of money to farmers in particular if they die-versi-flied. Harry said that he thought the Trumper farm would be the ideal spot to grow Scorpion's Sting chillies, which were apparently very popular with Trolls when having a night out. He also