Tableland

Cover

‘A parachute drop over marshes on a moonless night; the ghost of a nun in an ancient manor house; strange music heard in the village church at night, heralding enemy raids; a secret tunnel to the sea; a Nazi plot; a foreign spy planted in a Cheshire village; the unravelled truth about a seventeenth century love affair; lost treasure – and an equal exuberance of characters.'

Times Literary Supplement

‘Another challenging story for children – Bright youngsters will find the story is fun to read and it will stimulate their interest in history.'

The Independent on Sunday

‘The third in this much praised adventure series. A real cliff-hanging thriller that cleverly combines adventure, history and education in the kind of literary package that ought to provide a trademark for anyone contemplating writing for children.'

Welsh Arts Council Literary Supplement

‘Both are rattling good yarns.'

Daily Post

‘A deftly organised, fast moving story going back in time – showing how sombre life can be, both in the 21st century and in a Victorian family.'

Gillian Avery

‘I heartily recommend this book to you written by D.E. Harker. It's the story of three men who go off up to Galloway for a holiday in an old Morris Minor and of their adventures in that lovely part of Scotland.

It's humorous and it's enthralling. Told in the first person by one of the three, it's one of those books that you don't want to put down.'

Vintage Enthusiasts

***

For my family.

And for present and past members of Round Table on the occasions of their 85th Anniversary.

‘The pleasant plains and tableland

And friendships of my youth

Are linked forever in my mind

With charity and truth'

Anon

I never thought I'd be keeping a diary this year, or any other for that matter, but when I arrived at work this morning to collect my samples, Harris, from Accounts, presented me with this red leather deluxe desk diary, sent to the firm by Simcocks Cement. As it was surplus to requirements, he thought I might like it. It was decent of Harris and I was very gratified. It will look most impressive on the bedside table, which I have just finished making.

As we have just moved house from Southmere to Weston, it will be a good time to start a diary, and I can truthfully relate all my impressions of our new life in number 5 Springcroft Meadow.

It is Julie's dream house, with three bedrooms, a modern kitchen and an open plan living room – just the right size for us and Trevor, who is ten, at the moment of writing.

The garden is still raw as the last owners only lived here three months, but when I see what some of the other gardens on this “Scarrots” estate, built in the mid-sixties, look like after only about five or six years, it's most inspiring.

We also, and this is most important, have a garage. When I was promoted to salesman for International Consolidated Timber Corporation Ltd., I was very honoured to be given the keys of a handsome Vauxhall Viva saloon – dark blue – and it will be a splendid hobby for me and Trevor to polish it on a Sunday morning while Julie cooks the roast.

I haven't written so much since I left school, twenty years ago. Apart from a yearly Xmas letter to brother Dave and his family at Harpenden, I don't go in for this sort of thing much so it will be a good exercise for the brain. Julie is nagging me to put out the light as it is five past eleven. Good to think it's Saturday tomorrow.

Spent the morning digging the garden and trying to think of a good name for our new house. Have always rather liked those plays on words with all the names of the family linked together and came up with “Jupetor”, which I thought very easy on the ear, but Julie didn't like it.

‘How about Tenby,' she said, when she brought me a cup of tea. I admit it does sound rather good, though I didn't tell her I thought so.

In the afternoon we took the car to Liverpool, which was a mistake as we couldn't find anywhere to park. By the time we found a large enough space in a filthy side street, it was twenty to four. Trevor wanted to visit the conveniences and we were all beginning to get impatient. He then said, ‘I want to go to the pet shop', but Ju1ie and I put our foot down. I was anxious to track down this very good do-it-yourself shop, Tackle-It, recommended to me by Steve Downe, another enthusiast, who lives at Vymura, Springcroft Meadow and is in advertising. He introduced himself this morning while I was gardening and offered some excellent advice on attractive fencing, which can be purchased at Tackle-It.

Was worried all this time about leaving the car in such a neighbourhood and it quite spoilt the afternoon. Julie spotted some nylon netting curtain for the kitchen window and said it seemed very cheap. They didn't have the full amount she required, but she bought what there was as it was such a bargain.

Was really worried about the car by now and decided to leave Tackle-It until another time – it seemed a difficult place to find anyway.

There were some scruffy-looking characters standing by the Vauxhall as we approached and, before letting Julie and Trevor in, I had a careful inspection. Couldn't swear to it, but am sure there was a small scratch on the wing which wasn't there before. Shall have to decide whether to re-touch or leave it.

On the way home through the Mersey Tunnel, Julie said she'd planned a nice supper of pizza and cream pastries, which we all agreed sounded delicious.

Threatened by a visit from Bri; he never turned up, I'm relieved to say, but it just shows how unreliable he is. Why can't Julie's brother be more like mine?

A strange thing happened this morning. We decided to go to our local church. Julie looked very nice in her new white, fake fur hat and after the service I thought I'd introduce myself to the vicar – I put my hand out and was just about to say, ‘I'm Peter Porter and this is my wife, Julie' when he patted me on the shoulder and said ‘Mr Frazer, how good of you to come all this way – how is your mother?' and before I had a chance to correct him, he was talking to someone else. Think we might try the Presbyterian church next time.

Spent remainder of morning reading “the Sundays” – some interesting advertisements in colour supplement – and worked on the car in the afternoon. Steve Downe came over to admire it and we spent a pleasant half hour discussing cars.

Steve has a Ford Cortina. The back window is a wonderful sight, full of coloured stickers showing where they've been on camping and caravan holidays all over Britain – most impressive. Must remember to ask him more about these caravan holidays as we might be interested this summer. Trevor and I would enjoy roughing it – back to nature and all that – and Julie would find it a change from the kitchen sink.

After tea, settled down to the television, there was a good quiz game where you have to see how many vegetables you can pile on your head and the winner gets a chance to open the “Magic Box”. Unfortunately, the set started going wrong just at the crucial moment and we missed the end. I shall have to ask someone at work tomorrow who the winner was. Must look into this H.P. business more carefully and see if we can rent a new TV set. I really can't put up with this any longer, it's not fair to Julie or Trevor.

Found myself whistling “Peas, Carrots and Turnips” (signature tune from last night's quiz game) all the way to work. The small part of the Motorway which I use was very busy this morning and I got into a traffic jam near the bus depot, all of which made me nearly five minutes late.

Rain and sleet and a bitter east wind. Saw young girl struggling along with a heavy case and was almost tempted to give her a lift but remembered Julie's maxim: “You can't be too careful”. Typical Monday morning, everyone seemed short tempered and no one seemed to know the end of last night's quiz game.

Late home from work today. Our senior salesman, Prescott-Henderson, is off with influenza and Avery was put in charge. He was hopeless and got in a mess – muddling up samples and directing Gordon Brimcup back to an area which he covered last week. However, if Prescott-Henderson gets wind of this, my chances of further promotion one day may be quite rosy.

Helped Trevor with his arithmetic homework after supper and he seemed to look at me with new respect. Telly still not right. Julie and I had a nice hot cup of cocoa “and so to bed”, as they say.

Woke up with sore throat and feeling what I can only describe as “thick”. Julie took my temperature and pronounced it to be 101. But I insisted on getting up and going to work as usual. This was a mistake as, despite the aspirins and throat lozenges which Julie had produced, I felt worse and worse and was relieved that my last call was only three miles from home. Went straight to bed with a hot water bottle and a lemon drink and thanked goodness for our night storage heaters.

Trevor came up later and told me that the sums we'd done the previous night had all been wrong.

Stayed in bed in the morning. Steve's wife, Una, popped in at about half past ten and said, ‘I noticed your car hadn't left the garage this morning, is anything wrong?' This was very decent of her considering that she and Ju1ie had only previously said hello to each other across the road. It will be good for my narrative style to write a bit about the Downes'. Una and Steve live opposite in a very pleasant house, similar to ours – they grow their own vegetables from seed. They have a son, Kevin, who looks about the same age as Trevor, and a young daughter, Tracy. At night time the view into their lounge is really a “sight to behold”: G Plan furniture upholstered in dark blue, white walls with fitted units and a large standard lamp with round orange shade – very striking, and we think they are quite right not to draw their blue floral curtains as it gives a lot of pleasure to people to see such a tasteful setting.

When we have our new TV and when I've re-papered the walls in our sitting area, I hope we won't feel ashamed to leave our curtains open.

However, to continue with my cold, which I now think was a mild dose of influenza (probably P.H.'s germs), Una brought around some decongestant pills, which seemed to do the trick, but which made me feel very sleepy. I got up after lunch and fell asleep on the settee. Woke up to find a beautiful sunset sinking in the west over the roof of the bungalow further down the road. And Banners Steelworks in the far distance looked like a wizard's castle. Rather pleased with these poetic reflections – obviously feeling a bit weak from the effects of influenza.

The peace was shattered when Trev came in from school – slamming the door and switching on a noisy American cartoon film. As the television set has now developed a buzz, it becomes impossib1e to even think. Bed early.

Letter in post from Ju1ie's mother saying she wants to come and visit us soon. Can't pretend to be very elated at this news. Also says she's worried about Bri – I'm not surprised.

Felt that I must “show willing” and returned to work. Ju1ie sent me off with a large packet of tissues, which I certainly made use of.

Bought new drip-dry shirt. ‘Why don't you try a pink, patterned one?' Julie suggested, but I'm more in favour of plain white. Compromised in the end and came out with a blue and white striped affair which looks rather crisp. The local shops in our little town, Weston, seem quite good. There are three supermarkets. Una recommended Staynes Supermarket Fooderama – Ju1ie hadn't been there before as it was past the town hall but, with me in tow as pack horse, she didn't mind walking a little further today. Noticed some nice mauve wallpaper in a shop window and went in to enquire price, which turned out to be just right for our budget, so we ordered six rolls for sitting room.

Staynes Fooderama has an impressive array of goods, as Una had foretold, and it is nice to know that we could buy poppadoms, smoked salmon pâté, molasses and chop suey, should a suitable occasion arise.

Came home laden with baked beans, cornflakes, an enormous jar of instant coffee, etc., etc., etc., all of which cost a great deal, despite the bargain offers on flour, strawberry jam and something else which I can't remember.

Forgot to mention that we have chosen a new 19” television set in handsome-looking walnut cabinet on the H.P. It should arrive on Tuesday.

Very cold day. Did not clean the car this morning. Slept in late owing to unfortunate nocturnal adventure. Our next-door neighbours – I believe they're called Butt – had a party last night which went on all hours. The noise from the records and car doors slamming was terrible. I twice thought of going next door to complain but Ju1ie said, ‘It isn't a neighbourly thing to do.' I replied that it wasn't very neighbourly of them not to invite us, not that we would necessarily have gone, and we “had words”. Then, at three o'clock in the morning, came the last straw: someone's car horn got stuck. ‘That does it,' I said and leapt out of bed double-quick, with Ju1ie shouting, ‘Don't make a scene!' and ‘You'll get pneumonia!' after me as I pulled on my dressing gown. ‘What's the panic?' Trev was calling, also awake by this time. I rushed out into the garden, down the path and into the road, where there was a crowd of people laughing and shrieking.

Unfortunately, I didn't notice a patch of ice on the pavement. One slipper flew off – I don't know where it went – and I sprawled headlong into the crowd. Banged my head on the bumper of a car and felt quite dazed. Just lay there feeling rather foolish. Everything went quiet for a minute then, from somewhere, a woman said, ‘Are you alright, love?' Think my head was bleeding and I must have looked a sight. I nodded and everyone started talking at once and jokes were cracked. They helped me up and forced me to come back to the Butts' for a drink which I must say I felt like by now. ‘What were you doing out in the road?' I was asked. I was unable to think of a good reply while sipping their brandy.

When I arrived home much later, Julie said, ‘Whatever have you been doing all this time?' and screamed when she saw the mark on my forehead. She really thought I'd been in a fight – taking them all on single-handedly. What with one thing and another I felt quite shaky; Julie seemed cross that I'd been asked to the party and she'd been left out.

Today, Julie still in a huff about last night and thought she was going to sulk all morning, when she suddenly said, ‘This skirt doesn't fit anymore. I'll have to go on a diet.' I said, ‘Not again, let's face it, you've said this every year for the past six years.' But, as usual, she said, ‘No, this time I really mean it.' For breakfast she had only black coffee, although she cooked baked beans for me and Trev. While we ate toast and marmalade, she looked like a martyr. I don't suppose the craze will last long.

This evening Steve came round and suggested I go and have a beer round at his house, which was very civil of him. I was interested to see that he has a breakfast bar in his kitchen, which he said he had knocked up himself. He keeps a few tins of beer in his fridge and I thought this was a good idea. Must remember to tell Julie to get two or three tins. Had to sip my beer as it was very chilled. We had a good chat about caravans and he lent me some brochures. He has lived in Springcroft Meadow for three years and so is quite an old inhabitant of Weston.

Felt self-conscious about the mark on my forehead and felt obliged to explain. Una was listening with interest and said, ‘You were quite right, going to complain to the Butts. They're a fast lot and lower the whole tone of the neighbourhood. They seem to spend all their money on drink, parties and exotic holidays. What's the inside of their house like?'

Una very kindly asked if Julie and I could come over for coffee next Friday to meet some friends of theirs and I accepted. Saw an object attached to my gatepost which turned out to be the slipper I lost last night. Felt upset about it and removed it quickly – hope no one noticed.