Weathering It All

A lot of things had changed over the years, but Matt and Chuck’s friendship wasn’t one of them . . .

CHUCK took a deep breath of the flower-scented air and turned to his companion. “A great achievement, buddy. Fifty years.”

“Yes, indeed.” Matt nodded slowly.

He looked at the lake in front of them, where two swans glided together on the mirror-like surface.

Above their heads swarms of midges were beginning to gather as dusk crept across the water.

Loud music and laughter could be heard from the building behind them.

“Time we joined the party, I think,” Chuck said. “Everyone will be wondering where we are.”

The two men rose stiffly from the gnarled wooden bench and walked back towards the hotel.

Matt stopped in front of the brightly lit entrance and shook his head.

“Who’d have thought it, Chuck?”

Chuck laughed.

“It sure was a long time ago, Matt.”

He threw an arm around Matt’s shoulders and, still chuckling, the two men entered the hotel.

****

It had been the beginning of August 1957, a warm start to the school holidays, and thirteen-year-old Matt had pedalled towards the park bandstand where he and his friends usually met.

He skidded to a halt, slightly breathless.

“Did you hear that Laker got nineteen wickets against Austral . . .” he trailed off, seeing a stranger standing amongst the group.

“This is Matt,” his friend, Brian, said, introducing him.

“Hi, I’m Chuck,” the stranger said with a smile that showed even, white teeth.

“His real name is Charles,” Sophie explained. “He’s American.”

“Only my mom calls me that,” Chuck said with a laugh. “Usually when I’m in trouble.”

Matt stared. Chuck was probably about the same age, but he was taller than any of them and his clothes were different.

While they wore shirts and shorts, Chuck wore a T-shirt and dungarees with the bottoms turned up. His dark hair was combed in a quiff at the front. “Hello,” Matt said warily. This newcomer looked like an exotic bird in the middle of a flock of dowdy sparrows.

Sophie was staring up at him, fascinated.

“Just moved in?” Matt asked him.

“Yeah, the red house by the church. Me, my mom and baby sister. My grandma lives here, too.”

His voice was low and mellow.

“This is a great bike,” Alan, the youngest of the group, said, running his hands over the handlebars of the racing bike Chuck was holding. “I’d love one like this.”

“My dad bought it.” “Was it for your birthday?” Alan asked.

“Nope,” Chuck replied easily.

He looked around at the group of interested faces.

“So, are you goin’ to show me around?”

“Come on, then!” Sophie cried, jumping on to her bike.

The group cycled off down the path, Chuck in the middle, leaving Matt to follow in their wake.

For the rest of that summer, that’s the way it was.

As the eldest of the gang, Matt tended to be the leader, the one who thought of things to do, places to go.

Now his friends all did what Chuck wanted to do, whether it was swimming or cycling round the lanes.

On the old recreation ground, Chuck taught them how to pitch and hit a baseball with a bat.

It meant that they played fewer games of football or cricket, which comprised their summer sports in the past.

“It’s only stupid rounders,” Matt muttered to himself when Chuck hit the baseball far across the field and everybody clapped.

Once or twice, Matt said he had to stay in, then watched from his window as his friends cycled away from his house, happily talking to one another, not missing him.

Afterwards, he sat in his bedroom sulking for hours, until his mum asked if he was feeling all right.

She would have called it cutting off his nose to spite his face if she had known how he felt.

Even when Matt did go out, often when he got back Chuck’s mum was in the kitchen talking to his mum and drinking tea.

Chuck and his family were everywhere he turned.

Why couldn’t he go back to America?

One time he overheard Chuck’s mum say, “Charles misses his dad. It’s hard for him.”

“Where’s your dad, Chuck?” Matt asked the next time he saw him.

“He’s back in the States,” Chuck said. “He does secret work for the government, so couldn’t come with us.”

Brian, Alan and Sophie were impressed, but Chuck’s face coloured when he said this and Matt wasn’t sure it was true.

“So, where is this Kett’s Manor House?” Chuck asked.

“It’s outside the village,” Brian explained, his nose a mass of freckles because of the summer sun. “Nobody’s lived there for ages. It’s falling to bits.”

The friends were sprawled in the long grass at the edge of the recreation ground, their bikes lying nearby. The holidays were nearly over.

“It’s definitely haunted,” Sophie said emphatically, her ponytail swinging as she nodded.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Alan said, and he got up. “I’m going home if we’re talking about stupid things.”

He picked up his bike and rode across the park. The rest of them watched him disappear towards the village.

“I’m not scared of ghosts,” Chuck said, sitting up. “Look, we’ll be in school next week.”

There was a collective groan.

“So how about we spend the night in this haunted house? A final dare before school!”

“A whole night?” Sophie’s blue eyes looked worried.

“My mum would never let me do that,” Brian said, sounding strangely relieved that this was the case.

“Besides, my dad said that house isn’t safe.”

“Don’t tell your mom,” Chuck replied.

He counted on his fingers as he spoke.

“We sneak out after everyone has gone to bed, meet at the crossroads, spend a night in the house and sneak back in the morning. Who’s with me?”

There was a silence. Sophie and Brian looked at one another while Matt examined a sore on his finger.

“I’m not scared of ghosts, either. I’ll do it,” Matt said, feeling his heart thumping, and knowing there would be no backing down.

“Well, I can’t,” Sophie said, as she picked up her bike.

“My aunt is coming to stay and she hears everything. I wouldn’t be able to sneak out.”

“Me, neither,” Brian said as he rose, too. “Are you leaving, Sophie? I’ll ride back with you.”

Chuck and Matt sat in silence as they rode off.

“Aren’t you worried your mom will hear you, too, Matt?” Chuck said eventually, picking a blade of grass and chewing on it.

“No, I’m not worried,”

Matt replied.

He lay back and, through a tunnel of green, watched a kestrel wheel and dive above him.

He had agreed to Chuck’s plan on the spur of the moment, because Chuck had thrown down a dare.

If Chuck wasn’t frightened of ghosts, neither was he!

****

The wind was blowing clouds across the face of a full moon when Matt and Chuck met at the crossroads.

They set off together on the main road out of the village, their bicycle lights bobbing in the darkness.

Far away, there was a faint rumble of thunder.

At last they found the turn-off and rode up the rutted drive towards the house.

It loomed large and black in front of them, its windows looking like blank, unseeing eyes in the moonlight.

An unearthly scream made Chuck jump. “What was that?”

“An owl. Come on, I think we can get in this way,” Matt said, leading the way around the side of the house with his torch.

A door which had been forced open in the past led them through various passages towards the front of the house.

Scuttling noises surrounded them and neither boy wanted to imagine what creatures were scurrying to get out of their way.

Finally, they were in the main hall, where the grand staircase, now rotting and derelict, wound its way up into the darkness above.

“In here,” Matt said, opening a door.

They entered a large room with windows facing the front of the house.

The floor was gritty beneath their feet and the air smelled damp.

On the far side was a once-magnificent mantelpiece, gleaming in the light of Matt’s torch.

“We can sit here,” Matt whispered.

They settled themselves near the fireplace.

There was another rumble of thunder, which seemed to be getting nearer, and Chuck shivered.

The silence was almost palpable as they sat waiting for they knew not what.

In that silence, Matt realised that he and Chuck had never spoken to one another properly before.

Other members of the gang had always been there to keep conversations alive. Now they were alone.

Matt shone the torch on to his watch.

“It’s nearly midnight.” As another peal of thunder broke the silence, Chuck looked anxiously towards the windows.

A few minutes later a blinding flash of lightning lit up the room, followed by deafening thunder.

“The storm must be right above us,” Matt said. “You know, you count in elephants after the lightning to see how far away the storm is.”

Chuck groaned, and when Matt shone his torch his way, he saw that he was shaking, his hands firmly over his eyes.

“Are you OK?” he asked tentatively.

“I’m scared of storms,” Chuck answered. “So I guess you can tell all the others now.”

A gust of wind savagely rattled the windows and, from the other side of the room, there was a scratching sound like claws on wood.

Matt drew up his legs. “I used to be scared of thunder and lightning, too.” he admitted.

“Then me and my dad watched the lightning together,” he continued. “After a while, I wasn’t so scared.”

He paused for a moment. “You must miss your dad.” Chuck risked a look sideways.

“I lied about him,” he said quietly. “My mom and dad got a divorce and now he has a new family and a new son.”

Chuck swallowed hard. “That’s why we came here, so my mom could be near my grandma.” His voice quivered with anger.

“That stupid bike was supposed make me feel better!”

Matt wondered how he would feel if his dad thought a new son was better than the old one.

He opened his bag and rummaged inside.

“Do you want a sandwich? I made cheese and pickle.”

The storm rolled round them for a while and then became distant.

The two boys eventually slept. If the grey lady paid them a visit, they didn’t see her.

In the dawn, they woke up, cold and stiff. The storm had cleansed the air and there was a freshness to the morning.

“I’m starving,” Chuck said as they grabbed their bikes and turned towards home.

Matt felt in his jacket pocket and dug out an old, wrapped mint humbug.

“Have this. I’m not hungry,” he lied. “I’m not going to say anything to the others, Chuck.”

With a smile and a nod, Chuck led the way back down the drive and home.

“Bye, buddy!” Matt shouted as they parted at the crossroads.

****

In years to come, when Matt remembered that night, he knew he had learned the lesson that we never know what heartache others may be hiding.

When we do know, all we can do is be the best friend we can be. It was his first step into adulthood.

“We were so pleased to see you,” Sophie said as she and Matt said their goodbyes at the entrance to Kett’s Manor House Hotel, now doing well as a luxurious event facility.

“You couldn’t have kept me away,” Chuck replied. “A golden wedding anniversary is very special.”

He kissed Sophie on the cheek, then turned to Matt and held out his hand.

“This is for you, Matt,” he said with a smile.

When Matt opened his hand, on his palm was a mint humbug. ■