Earnshaw - Crab Fayre

By Colin Robinson and Ben Robinson

Birds and Animals have been disappearing from the quiet rural area. Earnshaw and his Friends, including some Humans, are drawn into a battle against a sinister criminal gang planning to create a secret base for terrorism, espionage and murder.

 Earnshaw is a Tabby Cat of unusual intelligence; born into cruelty and suffering in a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cumbrian Tails
• Release date: May 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781913898502

Book preview

TAILS OF CUMBRIA

Earnshaw

Crab Fayre

Ben Robinson

Colin Robinson

Published in 2021

by Cumbrian Tails

© Copyright Colin Robinson

Illustrations by Colin Robinson

www.cumbriantails.co.uk

Ebook Edition

ISBN: 978-1-9138985-0-2

Also available in Hardback and Paperback.

Cover and Book interior Design by Russell Holden

www.pixeltweakspublications.com

All rights reserved without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

Dedication

This is for Cerys and Aneurin, and Grace and Jack;

and for friends Katherine and Joe for their support

EARNSHAW

Earnshaw is a Tabby Cat of unusual intelligence; born into cruelty and suffering in a derelict part of Salford, rescued by a Human family, including Twins, and transported to a village on the edge of the Lake District. The Tabby reluctantly accepts responsibility for the Humans and adopts them, but has to share his rural retreat with a Rabbit, Scruffy Parrot and black Cat, becoming leader of the self-styled RSPCA. Earnshaw creates a wide network of unusual Animal and Bird friends and a particularly understanding and trust with a Human, in the form of the Twins nature-wise Grandfather.

Their lives have already been threatened by their association with their Human family and have had previous experience of attacks by criminal gangs of Spies, Witches and vicious Poachers, becoming wise in the cruel and lethal ways of these Humans. They now face even bigger challenges.

Earnshaw and his friends, like all Animals and Birds, live in a parallel world; speak parallel languages, often at frequencies beyond Human hearing, understanding each other perfectly well. They also understand what Humans say but cannot talk to them, until the communication barrier is broken by their scruffy, bi-lingual Parrot, with a colourful vocabulary.

During the local Town’s fortnight-long Charter Festival, the family and the RSPCA come under attack once more, from both old enemies and new, even more dangerous adversaries. Earnshaw and his friends have to overcome many cruel, vicious and potentially lethal attacks, to protect themselves and their adopted Humans; encountering many unnerving experiences and dark elements of the parallel Human World.

Earnshaw with his organisation of clever and resourceful friends survive all their strange and unusual adventures to overcome the darker side of Human nature, with their own enduring sense of humour, mutual mischief and moments of occasional slapstick, all seen through the eyes of the Tiger Tabby.

Chapter One

All Creatures Great and Small

The old lady, whose name was Mrs Cheeseman, was distressed; she was an invalid, slowly recovering from the trauma caused by the activities of her ex-husband, the Reverend Cheeseman. He had cruelly attempted to drive her mad and declared insane or, failing that, murder her for her money. She was now receiving menacing phone calls from an anonymous man, claiming to legally represent the incarcerated Vicar, and insisted that he had authorised Power of Attorney and control over all his wife’s Estate and financial affairs. His aim was to frighten and punish her. He ordered her to sign the Court legal documents, which he had sent her with immediate effect, transferring everything to a legally binding Trust and vacate the property or Bailiffs would be sent in to take possession.

Mrs C’s flame-haired Irish nurse, Doreen, had listened in to the calls and recognised the voice of the odious Fat Harry, a Solicitor’s Clerk and part of the Reverend’s Black Magic Circle, who was supposed to be in gaol. The Irish nurse replied with her own more lurid threats to Harry; her references to a Donkey and a Horned Goat were particularly unsettling for him. The nurse reassured the old lady that her ‘friends’ would ‘take care’ of everything; especially those with unusual skills and accomplishments. She needed to report the incident to the old man who was keeping a watching brief on the property.

The extensive and attractive gardens of the large mellow, limestone mansion of the Old Vicarage were a haven of peace in the warm sunshine, a welcome to all creatures, great and small. These particular creatures were unusual in their variety and association. They were the RSPCA, a Rabbit, Scruffy Parrot and Cats Association, with occasional and additional, equally unusual supporters. Earnshaw, the large, flat-faced Tiger Tabby believed he was the leader, a role constantly questioned by the other members. They lived in the village, in the southern part of the Lake District, and took care of a family of Humans, Stanley and Ethel and included their Twins whom the Tabby had originally called Savage Simon and Terrible Tracy when mauled by them as a Kitten, but now simply known as SS and TT for short.

The RSPCA, sometimes considered as the Family ‘Pets’ and the Twins, now had more freedom to roam, which suited both parties, using both the nearby Old Vicarage and adjacent Farm as boltholes. This was mainly due to the circumstances of Mrs Cheeseman’s recent and hurried take-over of the previously designated Vicarage, much to the relief of the Diocesan Authorities. In addition, Ethel had her hands-full concentrating on the latest Family arrival, Gentle Ben, referred to as GB by the RSPCA. Stanley was also expected to do his fair share of the household chores as well as his day job. It was not a stress-free situation; it was an easy excuse to blame the Twins and RSPCA unfairly for causing even minor problems; these boltholes were a way to escape blame and retribution. Stanley, not renowned for being a ‘useful’ Human by the gang-of four, also had to look after GB on occasion, which could be even more fraught. Earnshaw sympathised with the infant GB and hoped that he would not be scarred for life. He would be better off in the care of the RSPCA. The only trusted member of the Human family was the Twins Grandfather, Old Ted, who had formed an unusual and strong bond with the Tiger Tabby.

The other feline was a naïve and attention-deficit black Kitten with three white hairs on its chest, currently sitting on the lap of Mrs C, who was relaxing in a deck chair. The Tabby was also trying to relax but his siesta was being interrupted by a piebald, black and white Rabbit with large gnathic protuberances, called Starsky, the hippy Rabbit of course, not his teeth. The Cat was an observer of the world in which he lived; it was a world viewed through a Cat’s eyes, where only some Humans, at best, were considered as equals.

‘Here comes the flying daffodil after his surveillance circuit,’ observed Starsky, the scruffy Rabbit, chewing on three-leafed clover and ignoring the flower petals in his fur, ‘Hope he hasn’t brought any of his mad relatives with him.’

The large green and yellow Parrot made a less than perfect landing on the fairway, caught its claws in the grass and ricocheted, beak-first into the hippy Rabbit’s white scut, almost managing a birdie.

‘That’s no place to try and hide your nuts!’ snarled the rattled Rabbit, leaping into the air and trying to look over his shoulder at the same time, a misplaced manoeuvre which caused him to land on the dozing and outraged Tiger Tabby. Fur and feathers eventually sorted themselves out, without resorting to a full-scale confrontation.

‘If you think that’s somewhere I’d normally stick my beak, then you’re very much mistaken,’ snarled Monkton, the not-so-jolly green Parrot, spitting and scraping his beak from side-to side on the grass, thankfully not having quite managed a hole-in-one.

The RSPCA were in normal Team Building mode, empathising with each other.

Earnshaw, the Tiger Tabby, was the original member of the gang; born in a derelict house in Manchester; rescued after being thrown into Salford Docks with his less fortunate brothers and sisters; saved from drowning; rescued again by his current family of Humans and relocated to the southern edge of the Lake District. His adventures had created much experience in his short life but made him wary of Humans (he hated vets after being neutered) and even other Animals, but he was starting to mellow, or at least, have a better understanding of the world in which he lived and how to survive.

The Hippy Rabbit had also survived various adventures, including being chased by a Poacher’s vicious Ferrets, but rescued from everlasting darkness in the nick of time by a Tortoise with a candle on its back! After escaping, he was taken in by an elderly Human couple until they could no longer care for him, and then donated to the Twins as a present. Apart from eating and sleeping, he had spent most of his recent life watching films on TV; as a result, Starsky had accumulated a vast, though somewhat surreal, knowledge of ‘Human’ behaviour, which sometimes appeared at variance with reality.

Monkton, the large, green and yellow, ‘daffodil’ Parrot, was an entirely different kettle of birdseed. His previous Human had been Matilda, the Aunt of the Twins’ Father, the so called ‘Head’ of the family, who, even Enoch the black Kitten, thought was stupid! Matilda and her friend, Willy Eckerslike, had become involved with the discovery and detection of a spy network in Yorkshire and had suddenly disappeared without trace. Monkton had been ‘bequeathed’ to Stanley as a condition of inheriting his Aunt’s estate. The Parrot could talk; by virtue of his unusual round tongue, he had learned to ‘talk’ to Humans in their own language. He had become the gang’s ‘communications’ officer.

The naïve black Kitten had been foisted on the family by the Spy’s Yorkshire accomplices, complete with a listening device and radio transmitter concealed in his collar. Fortunately, the device had malfunctioned as a result of Earnshaw removing it (for Health and Safety reasons) and Starsky burying it in the garden to hide the evidence. Subsequently, it only picked up the occasional sounds of the Cats inadvertently digging nearby in their private moments. Enoch’s role in the gang remained something of a mystery, but there has to be one in every Team!

The RSPCA were a group of obvious individuals with individual talents but became a formidable team by pooling their resources when threatened from outside. They were also extremely adept at co-opting additional resources, including some Humans, when necessary. They were all Synanthropes, Animals that can live with Humans without ceasing to be wild.

All Animals and Birds lived in a parallel world and communicated in a parallel language; they could easily understand and share information with each other, also having the power to communicate with each other at much higher frequencies, beyond normal Human senses. They also understood Human speech but considered the Homo Sapiens species to be of lower intelligence because they had not learned to communicate with Animals and Birds. They obviously found it difficult to learn a foreign language.

Humans in their ignorance, of course, believed that they had unique qualities, which put them beyond Animals and Birds, but these were just more sophisticated versions of traits, which were found in the Animal world – if one cared to look. Still, Humans had some use in providing food and shelter. The RSPCA had overcome the species communication problem in the shape of Monkton, the flying Daffodil, and his ability to speak in ‘tongues’. He could pass on simple messages that even Humans could understand.

Humans, with their normal ignorance, generally ignored Animal intelligence; unable to read or write because of claw and thumb problems, they were obviously illiterate, stupid and only useful as a source of food or ‘pets’. The real difference was that Animals did not have any ‘technology’ like that developed by Humans, although they could understand it’s place for their own comfort and convenience. The two-legged pedants believed that since they had bigger brains, they were infinitely superior and more intelligent compared to Animals, Birds etc. In fact, it was the ratio of brain size to body weight, which counted and Animal or Bird brains had the same basic brain functions as Humans, with a few extra advantages for good measure. Parrots were especially intelligent, although Earnshaw could not accept that fact even to himself. Once the small altercation between the flying Daffodil and the piebald Rabbit had sorted itself out, Monkton recounted the results of his aerial sortie. He had rendezvoused with their friend, Percy, the navigator, an intrepid homing Pigeon and mobile satnav guide in previous adventures; he was their personal drone, a spy in the sky, who always knew where he was at, even if he had drop down to ground level to see the road-signs. Perce had consulted other Birds plus the hooligan, free-flying Parrots from the nearby Wild Animal Park, but no imminent danger had been reported, particularly any sightings of the cruel Poachers, who had been pursuing them, but who had escaped (with some injuries) from their last confrontation and were apparently still lying low, not having been apprehended. The Parrot Troopers were singing a rude song, which they had made up, about their self-styled leader, Hercule Parrot, Pet Detective. No broomsticks were airborne after the previous Black Magic Battle of The Laithes. Judas, the vicious Donkey, from the nearby farm was ambling round the fields ‘pretending’ to obey the orders of the Twins in his new Donkey cart, whilst his charges, the Racing Pigs, were practicing for an imminent event. The Twins had Judas eating out of their hands, but only when they were holding carrots!

The RSPCA relaxed in the knowledge of the absence of imminent danger. Earn reflected on recent events as he surveyed the peaceful garden, with the old lady, Mrs Cheeseman talking to the black Kitten on her lap. Like many ‘foreigners’, Cats did not understand the concept of irony, but their current situation was such a case. They were recovering from a battle with Witches, Warlocks and Poachers who had been vanquished – for the time being – but not all of them incarcerated and therefore still a potential threat. They did not really understand Spies and espionage or Witchcraft but they did understand Poachers and Animal cruelty.

The Old Vicarage had been at the heart of the Satanists organisation, which had included the not-so-reverend, malevolent Vicar, Oswald Cheeseman, now in an inmate in a secure establishment for the insane, hoist with his own petard; his mind was damaged; there was no inner peace with the Devil riding on his back. The Ecclesiastical Establishment had moved with miraculous speed to disassociate the agency of the Lord with Cheeseman’s evil extramural activities and sold the extensive Old Vicarage at a knockdown price to Mrs Cheeseman, the intended victim of the Vicar’s evil schemes. As a result, the extensive grounds were now rapidly becoming a wildlife sanctuary, ‘hallowed’ by the RSPCA and their many Friends. The vanquished Witches Coven had been based on a local Ladies Circle; the Old Vicarage was now a retreat for the victorious Animal Circle.

There was even a new part-time ‘proper’ gardener to replace the useless Poacher, Alf, the Ferret fondler, whose real task had been to report on the Vicar to his blackmailer and grow hallucinogenic mushrooms to allow Cheeseman to attempt to drive his rich, invalid wife insane. The Vicar had, instead, inherited a whirlwind and was in his own Hell, haunted by demons from the Outer Circle. He believed it was a punishment from the Horned God for botching sacrifices of the Black Cat and Farm Cockerel.

The ‘proper’ gardener, called Pierre, had been recommended by Old Ted and purported to be a Buddhist from the nearby Manjushri Temple, known to his friends as Robes Pierre; Old Ted had a different view of the gardener’s skills; he was there to watch over Mrs C in case of retaliation; he was a ‘Specialist’, but not in gardening; he kept his speciality skills strictly to himself; they were secret and he hoped they would not be required.

The remaining member of the original household was Doreen, Mrs C’s flame-haired Irish nurse and housekeeper, who had fought battles of her own with the Vicar and some of his dubious friends; she had demonstrated a liking for Animals and a loathing of their torturers and therefore trusted by the RSPCA. She was also known as ‘Dolly Blue’ for her novel bath-time treatment of a naked, Hornet-stung Stanley in a large dolly-tub, during a Vicarage Garden Party. He was now banned from the Vicarage and not trusted by Ethel for getting a buzz out of it and, in her opinion, telling bare faced lies; there was always a sting in the tail.

The Rabbit was restless, so they decided to go for a stroll round the garden for a tour of inspection, although in Starsky’s case, it was more of a B-line to inspect the lettuces, tomatoes and vegetables, which he now regarded as his own gourmet pantry. Dolly Blue was there, collecting salad ingredients and vegetables for Mrs C’s dinner, and welcomed them as Friends.

‘Ah, ’tis the Witch Finder General himself, so it is,’ she said in her soft Irish lilt, addressing Earnshaw directly. He liked the term General and ignored the sniggers and squawks of derision from the other two. ‘Yer all welcome here at any time, as long as the Parrot minds his language, if it’s a Sunday.’ Dolly Blue was interrupted by a chorus of barking, braying and shouting from behind nearby shrubbery. The RSPCA recognised the voices and moved toward the sounds, followed by a more cautious Doreen, armed with a trowel.

Judas, the bad-tempered Farm Donkey, had got his head stuck through the bars of the back-gate from the fields into the Old Vicarage and was braying, wheezing with the gate rattling on is hinges as he tried to free himself or smash it down, whichever; the Twins were fratching with each-other and shouting at the Donkey, trying to dislodge him, but mindful of the bared, yellow teeth and threshing hooves. Flower, the Farm Collie, was barking encouragement, or advice, which was not helping; the efforts were uncoordinated and unsuccessful.

Dolly Blue, who had once owned a similar beast and also believed all Donkeys to be Irish, took charge and soon sorted out the melee without further mishap, calmed the braying Judas down and led him, plus cart, to the greenhouse, placating him with carrots. The two had met previously in not too dissimilar circumstances and the Donkey knew that ‘she was on the side of the Piggies’! Doreen invited the Twins back to the house for ice-cream and left the menagerie to their own devices.

They relaxed outside the greenhouse, where Dolly Blue had conveniently left her basket of carrots, pea pods and apples within Donkey and Rabbit range, with Earn curious to learn the latest gossip, or news, from the Farm. Judas was making no sense, only crunching and wheezing noises with his mouth full, so it was left to Flower, the Collie, to sensibly bring the Tiger Tabby and his friends up to date.

There was no news of strangers or appearance of enemies at the Farm, even their own private Health Spa, Sally’s Spring, remained tranquil.

‘Piggies!’ snarled Judas at last, showering them all with orange-coloured shards of carrot, ‘my Piggies are going to race!’

‘I thought they often did that, so what’s new?’ asked Earn.

‘He means Races near here,’ translated Flower, ‘we heard the Twins talking; it appears that it’s the time of year for the big Annual Festival in the nearby Town. Part of it will be something called a Crab Fayre, whatever that is; there will be Pantomime Horse and Pig Racing, with Trotting Races for Ponies, there’s no stopping the silly Ass. He’s making the Pigs do extra training sessions and now that he’s got his Donkey Cart, he’s determined to enter the Trotting Races with the Twins.’

‘Fat chance,’ muttered the Tabby, visualising chaos, ‘Ethel wouldn’t allow it, and anyway he’s not a Horse, he doesn’t even qualify for burger meat.’

‘SS once got Crabs,’ reminisced Starsky, ‘he caused panic amongst the Ladies Circle at one of Ethel’s Afternoon Tea Parties when he mentioned it, remember?’ Earnshaw had vivid recollections; the playful Rabbit had accidentally’ set SS’s Ninja Crabs on him; casting them adrift from his long fur had been no joke, except to the rest of the RSPCA.

‘I can’t see what Crab Racing has to do with the Town Festival,’ muttered Earnshaw, the fur on his back twitched with the memory, ‘maybe you didn’t hear them properly.’

‘Well, that’s what it sounded like,’ grumbled Flower, defensively, ‘it’s certainly got the Mule all fired up, he’s going to be difficult, and noisy, to live with. Anyway there’ll be lots of other things going on as well; the Festival lasts for more than two weeks!’

‘Your maniac friends, the Parrot Troopers from the Wild Animal Park are going to have a field day,’ groaned the Tiger Tabby to Monkton, the feathered Daffodil, who was keeping his head down at the prospect. ‘What about all those crowds of Humans? How do we know that there won’t be enemies amongst them with grudges against us? They don’t need to have long memories!’ The silence was accompanied by carrot crunching sounds as they considered the Tabby’s warning; it was broken by a gruff woof.

Old Ted, the Twins grandfather and trusted Human Friend of the RSPCA was strolling across the disused tennis court with his three-legged Dog, Olegovski (Oleg for short!). He was carrying a box, which caused Earnshaw some anxiety; nothing good ever went into, or came out of, a box or a sack in his experience. Oleg gave both Earn and Starsky a welcoming slurp across the face with his tongue, whilst Monkton hurriedly repositioned himself to Old Ted’s flat-cap. Greetings with the Donkey and Flower were restricted simply to re-acquaintance sniffing sessions. Old Ted carried out his expected responsibilities by producing the usual treats. He was also, now the Honorary Animal Sanctuary Advisor and Animal Whisperer, appointed by Mrs C for her Vicarage Project.

‘What’s in the box? asked the hippy Rabbit, snuffling suspiciously at it.

‘Ferrets!’ replied Oleg hoarsely and was rewarded by the Rabbit’s panic attack.

They watched in some trepidation as the old man opened the box and to their amazement lifted out two, large Tortoises!