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Exploring Foreign Lands and All That Bollicks
Amy woke up the next morning stiff and sore because her air-mattress had deflated beneath her. It had been flat after the boys had bounced on it yesterday, but she’d hoped it was only the result of the plug coming out. She’d blown it up again but by morning she was lying on the cold, hard ground with a stone underneath her hip; there was definitely a hole in it somewhere. Why did camping have to be so uncomfortable? It had been a late night for the boys by the time they’d got back from the pub and read some of Swallows and Amazons. The boys had drunk some more hot chocolate as they listened, and she wasn’t sure how much of the story they’d been listening to but, as always, they did still find it absolutely hilarious every time she said the word “Titty”.
At least it wasn’t only Harry. It reassured her to know Oliver could be just as loud and silly as her son, sometimes.
Even though the tent wasn’t leaking, the rain, which had been falling all night, had permeated everything and the blankets felt damp. Perhaps, after all, they should cut the holiday short. To make matters worse Harry had got out of bed the wrong side — or rather rolled off his airbed on the wrong side — and brushed the side of the tent, getting his sleeping bag wet in the process, but at least he was out of bed and dressed even if he was grumpy. Yards away, Oliver was protesting that he didn’t want to leave the campervan.
‘Come on then, who’s ready for an adventure!’ Amy called.
‘Me! Me!’ shouted Harry. ‘Come on Oliver, don’t be such a wuss!’ Oliver was at the window, shaking his head and Harry bounced over to the campervan. ‘It’s going to be like the Titty book, we’re going to explore foreign lands and all that bollicks.’
‘Harry! Don’t say that word.’
‘What? You say it all the time.’
‘I do not say it all the time. I said it once — maybe twice — and it doesn’t mean you should. If you say something like that to the head teacher when you’re at school —’
‘I’d say bollicks to Ms. Lewandowska!’ Harry said.
‘Matt, are you ready?’ She wanted to get the boys moving before Harry got bored and started to misbehave more than he was already doing.
Matt appeared from the awning. His hiking boots looked as if they were designed for climbing Everest, while she only had a pair of wellies. He had a different waterproof coat on, a sturdier one than he’d worn the day at the tarn, and a pair of waterproof hiking trousers. Her jeans were already mud-splattered, and her coat was starting to smell like moss.
‘Mr. Sutherland —’ Harry began, checking Oliver couldn’t hear.
‘You can call me Matt if you’d like to, Harry.’
‘I had an idea. About your campervan.’
‘Did you?’
‘About what you could call it. I thought you could give it the same name as Oliver’s mum. He’d like that. He misses her a bit, you see.’
Harry’s suggestion showed a maturity and consideration very few people credited him with. Amy knew it was there, but he didn’t often let other people see it. He must like Matt, to trust him.
‘Harry, that’s a kind suggestion. Stella the campervan. What a fantastic idea. I’ll talk to Oliver about it later on, thank you!’
Amy watched Matt and hoped he wasn’t feeling too emotional. It was a lovely thought of Harry’s — but she could imagine Oliver and Matt might find it difficult. Harry looked so pleased that Matt was taking his idea seriously.
‘Harry, why don’t you go and see if you can persuade Oliver to come out?’ Matt said. ‘You’re much better at getting him to do things he doesn’t want to than I am,’ he added with a wry smile.
‘Oh, you just have to know how to handle him. It’s easy,’ Harry said airily. ‘I can give you some suggestions if you like?’
‘I’m sure Matt will be fine,’ Amy said, laughing, as Harry went to find Oliver.
‘He’s a good lad, your Harry.’ Matt watched him disappear into the awning, and they heard him opening the sliding door of the campervan.
‘He is. He really is. He means well. He’s just … it’s so difficult to get him to think before he acts. He’s not a bully, whatever Darcey-Mae’s mother might tell you, but he can’t control his temper very well.’
‘I can see that, but there’s an honesty to Harry’s reactions. If he sees something he doesn’t like, he’ll do something about it.’
‘Problem is, he doesn’t always do the right thing.’
‘He’ll learn. He’s young, he’s trying to deal with an adult world he doesn’t understand. It’s hardly surprising he doesn’t always get it right. Hell, I don’t always get it right, and I’m nearly forty!’
‘Thank you. Here they come. Whatever Harry said to Oliver seems to have worked.’
The boys came tumbling over each other out of the little red campervan.
