A Consequence of Fate

A Consequence of Fate

Graham Walker

Copyright 2013

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

To obtain permission to use excerpt portions of the text please contact

walkergraham2 @gmail.com

All characters in this book are fictional and figments of the author’s imagination.

Thanks to James Walker for the cover Photograph

and to Eileen McCormack for her help and encouragement

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 1

William. That was the only good thing she did for him before abandoning him with her parents. She named him William, well at least it wasn’t Zach or Zebedee or some other sad name that was doing the rounds when he was born.

George and Maureen Wood, William’s grandparents had been shocked when their daughter, Katherine, had told them she was pregnant at sixteen. Shocked yes, surprised no, she had always been a little unstable as a young girl and virtually uncontrollable since puberty, and this was the final insult to them. Maureen took it harder than George and as soon as Katherine had left, leaving the baby boy with them at nearly 2 months old, Maureen had started to implode, her world was in tatters and it was only nine months and 6 days later that she died, four weeks before William’ first birthday. George was convinced she died of a broken heart but the death certificate only said Myocardial Infarction.

George was now left to bring up a baby on his own whilst trying to keep their heads above financial ruin. They lived in the small village of Cabus hidden in the rolling foothills of the Pennines, only a stone’s throw from the market town of Garstang. The cottages had been built, by the owners of Cabus Hall as tied accommodation for the workers on the estate, these, like the large gatehouse further down the lane had been sold off in the 60’s, when Cabus Hall stopped being a gentleman’s residence and took on the more economical role of a working farm, with the old huge sandstone hall being mothballed and the farm being run from the separate farm house on the estate.

George and Maureen’s cottage stood in the middle of a terrace of six, sewn together by a diamond shaped crisscross of darker brick lacing each cottage to the next. The endless roof punctuated by several brick chimneys, one for each cottage, each one with its own lattice design in the same darker brick. The inside of each cottage was identical, there was a front room, which most used as a lounge, a back room and off that a kitchen which served as the dining room, in George’s house the furniture was utilitarian rather than aesthetic. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a small bathroom, which had been sectioned off from the second bedroom, many years ago. It was a small room with a white bath, toilet and sink and like every other room in the house, the walls were painted magnolia. Out the back was a small yard surrounded by 5ft high brick walls, built into the brick wall at the end of the yard was the brick building housing the old dry toilet, this always amused William, he could not envisage anybody sitting with their bare bum dangling through a hole in a wooden board.

Beyond the small garden was the back lane that ran behind the whole terrace. This lane had been put there for the use of the midden men who, once a week would come along the lane with their cart and empty the dry toilets. Fortunately these toilets had long since fallen out of use as toilets and now tended to be a home for the gardening tools. On the other side of the back lane, exactly opposite each garden was a large plot. The plot behind William’s house was their vegetable garden and it housed George’s wooden workshop which sat in amongst the rows of potatoes, cabbages and onions growing in the well-tended soil. The south facing side wall of the workshop was covered in rusting nails which held the lacing of string supporting runner beans and string beans. The little money that came from Maureen’s life insurance would not go far and it was fortunate that George worked for himself doing engineering repairs to machinery, mostly on farms. This meant he could take William along with him in his small green Austin A30 van. In the back of the van amongst the tool boxes and welding equipment was a fold up wooden play pen, George, given the option, preferred to make a playpen out of hay bales whenever possible, but if he needed it, it was there.

The last time William had seen his mother was when she turned up, just after his third birthday, she had not even bothered to come to her own mother’s funeral. It was a surprise to George when she appeared at the cottage door right out of the blue. The memory of the visit was not William’s, it was his grandfather’s. She had brought with her another baby, he was called Damien, Damien Wood.

She had never, in his short life, sent William a birthday or Christmas card. She did not even acknowledge him as he sat in his toddlers chair in the small lounge, it was as if he did not exist. She was happy to show off the new baby to her father, who said and did just the bare minimum to show recognition to his new grandchild, after all it was not the baby’s fault that his mother was the way she was. George had hoped, when she turned up at the door that she was bringing a birthday present for William, but it was not to be. After about twenty minutes she fluttered out of the cottage and their lives, just as she had fluttered in, she never spoke one word to William. This was the last time he would see his mother.

George was so busy with William, trying to combine work, running the home and looking after William that the days flew by. It seemed like only weeks before William was attending school for the first time. George never complained or moaned, and neither did William, but he knew that William was a little introverted and always seemed to be at his best when he was with his grandfather. They were just happy to be in each other’s company, so going to school was never really a pleasure for William he knew he had to do it, so he did it. He also knew that whatever his grandfather was doing, it was going to be better than school and he could be involved in it.

As William grew up, he never quite saw the need for friends, he knew he could trust his grandfather without question, but he did not feel the need to befriend anyone else, he was not one for playing out, he preferred books or working in the workshop and of course, his grandfather. Even though he was happy with his own company, he was not an unpopular young lad, he was blessed with a large amount of natural charisma, which was accepted by most. He was always courteous, never condescending or unkind, and he would share anything that he had, without question, this made him quietly popular. His charisma became more apparent as he grew older and it would develop even more. Girls especially were attracted to his quiet shyness and his striking good looks.

It was plain to see that he was going to be a tall young man with his blond hair and his well-defined features, but it was his eyes that were engaging, they were a piercing light blue and everyone who looked into them were immediately drawn to this young man, it was as if he was magnetic. His thirst for knowledge gave him a love of books. He loved to read books just so he could learn something, it did not matter what it was, anything was worth learning, his mind was like a sponge and would take in anything. When William was about seven, he was ‘going through a phase,’ that was one of his grandfather’s favourite sayings along with ‘everything happens for a reason’ or ‘that’s fate for you.’ George would often find him in the workshop practicing what looked like dance moves to George.

What is that, you learning to dance William? George said in his soft Lancashire accent as he bent to pick up a book off the bench.

No, I was thinking of self-defence. George raised his eye brows reading the title on the book, Taekwondo. William continued,

We have been talking about martial arts at school so I thought I would read up on it. It seems to me that this Taekwondo is all preparation, about knowing what to do next, if you are attacked, so I am learning several moves by heart so that if I need them, I have the moves ready up here. William tapped the side of his head.

William, are you being bullied or anything? George asked with concern.

No! he looked baffled by the question.

I just wanted to learn, George really did not expect William to be bullied as he showed no fear and he was a solid built lad with an old head, on young shoulders, but you never know he thought to himself. George left William in the workshop practising.

Chapter 2

William left the junior school with very little ceremony, it was just somewhere he had had to go to, and now it was his first week at Garstang Secondary Modern School. He seemed to enjoy going to school now as there was more to learn. The homework was always done before their evening meal which George was always preparing as William arrived home. Afterwards William would wash up and tidy the kitchen whilst his grandfather went to his workshop, it was a tried and tested formula that seemed to work for both of them. William would, more often than not follow on, helping with whatever project was on going in the workshop, and his thirst for knowledge surpassed the need to play.

Most breaks in the school day would see William sitting on the low wall by the grass reading or just observing, he never felt left out or lonely, he always had a constant gathering of pupils, nearly always girls around him as he sat trying to read. He would always listen intently to whatever they had to say and would always have an input, always positive and never a put down, which was normally accepted as correct, by the nodding of heads or the echoes of laughter from those surrounding him. It was his choice not to play the running around games or football in the school yard, although he was very good at all ball games they just did not seem necessary to him. During the required games period the teachers had noticed that he had exceptional hand, eye co-ordination and speed. He was by far the strongest batsman in the school at cricket and the teachers tried in vain to recruit him to the school teams on more than one occasion, but William always declined.

The school yard was virtually a quadrangle. On three sides were two story red brick school classrooms, the huge walls punctuated with Georgian styled windows overlooking the yard. The fourth side was a tiered wall separating the school yard from the grassed playing fields which ran down to the river Wyre. It was whilst sat on this wall one break time, reading, that he first met Steven Smith. Unknown to William, Smith was the school bully. William later learnt that Smith always came in three’s with his two disciples tagging along. Apparently Smith had heard about William and his prowess at sport and he had seen, with his own eyes the constant stream of girls and boys talking to William at the breaks. The first thing William knew was that Smith snatched the book from his hand. William did nothing but look up from his sitting position. He stood up and even at his full height Smith was a good four inches taller, William assumed from his size that he was a third or fourth year pupil, he did notice that he looked scruffy and dirty, perhaps this was due to the dirt under the finger nails on the hand holding the book .

You want this book back? he wafted the book about in the air.

You have to pay! these were the first words William had ever heard Smith speak. As William took a step forward the two disciples stood in his way as Smith turned and headed for the toilets. The taller of the two, whose face was covered in more spots than William had ever seen in one place, said, in a rather high pitched voice.

We prefer to do business in private! the other, who William thought, had either a deformed face or just had a permanent stupid grin nodded in agreement. The two stepped aside as if to invite William to follow Smith to the toilets. Mr. Trotter the teacher who was on duty in the school yard spotted William and Smith’s two disciples go into the toilets. He thought if they did not appear again in two minutes he would go and check, in an automatic movement he pulled the old fob watch out of his waistcoat pocket, with his right hand to check the time.

Inside the toilets William just stood there waiting. Smith spoke first.

Here’s how it works, you pay us £1.00 every Monday and we leave you alone, if you don’t pay, things will happen! all the time he was talking he was wafting William’s book in front of William’s face.

Do you understand this smart arse? William spoke for the first time since the encounter began.

I understand perfectly well, but I am not going to pay you anything, so if I can have my book back please. William held out his hand. Smith slapped the book across Williams face and flicked his head to his two disciples, unknown to William, this was a well-rehearsed nod, meaning for them to go and keep watch, as they left the toilet William never took his eye of Smith.

Smith threw a wide right handed punch aimed at William’s face. William leant back and pulling his own right arm up deflected the punch so it crossed in front of his face. As Smith’s own momentum twisted his body round William punched with his left, aiming to finish the length of its travel at the far side of Smiths ribcage. William had read that aiming at a point beyond the target ensured the maximum velocity of the blow as it struck the target. This punch connected with Smith’s lower ribs and stomach, knocking all the wind out of him. He dropped William’s book as he grabbed onto the sink for support as his knees started to buckle. William repositioned himself quickly and landed a hard right hand punch in the centre of Smith’s already pain riddled face, Smith’s nose exploded as his head shot backwards. He fell to the floor, his hands cradling his broken face. William knew he had done enough damage to Smith, he moved to the sink in order to rinse his hands under the tap and dried them before picking up his book and heading for the door. The two disciples were busy watching ‘The Trot’ as the teacher who was called Mr. Trotter was known to the pupils. He headed towards the toilets. Mr.Trotter and the rest of the teaching staff were aware of how these three operated, and seeing the other two standing on guard he decided to move quickly. Seeing William pass with the book they knew transactions were completed and rushed in to warn Smith of ‘The Trot’s’ approach. Mr. Trotter saw William leave the toilet looking relaxed and unhurried but he decided to check anyway.

William, is everything alright? I saw you with those three.

Yes sir, William smiled as he replied without stopping. Mr. Trotter thought he would check what the other three were up to, knowing they were the three worst trouble makers in the school. What he found brought a smile to his face as he opened the door to the toilet. Smith was still sitting on the floor, with his back against the outside wall, blood streaming down his face and onto his shirt, whilst the other two were just standing there with their mouths open.

What is going on here? Trotter asked. With much stuttering and stammering the story was that Smith had slipped and hit his nose on the sink, Mr. Trotter doubted the story from the start and his own version of what had happened was much more likely, knowing how these three had worked in the past.

Carter, you take Smith to the first aid room, he was speaking to the tall spotty youth.

You Tailor, go and get a mop from the caretaker and clean up this mess! pointing to the blood splatter on the floor and sink. Normally he would not ask a pupil to do such a task but these three were the dregs of the school. With that he left the toilet, not to go back to his duty in the yard but he rushed straight to the teacher’s common room to spread the news that Smith has had his comeuppance. The news was received with a lot of smiles and some scepticism when The Trot told them who was behind Smith’s downfall. Smith had always been a pain in their communal backsides, so anything to put him in his place was welcome. Several of the teachers went to the window in the common room overlooking the school yard. The could see and hear that the school yard had been stunned into silence as Carter led Smith, holding a bloodied paper towel to his lower face, across to the first aid room at the other side of the playground from the toilets.

William, now back sitting on the wall seemed to be the only one not taking any notice. By the next break everyone in the school was aware of the full facts about Smiths entanglement with William. As the pupils poured out into the yard they seemed to pool in puddles of pupils, all heads turned inwards as they expanded beyond belief, the truth of what happened. William sat in his favourite spot on the low wall reading, not one word came from his lips, but the whole school knew that Smith’s reign of bullying had come to an abrupt end. This was one of the few breaks when not a single pupil approached William as he sat on the wall.

The majority of William’s school life went by in a flash. He excelled at most subjects and his grandfather’s pride for his grandson rose each year at the parent teachers evening. William found school work quite easy and the homework took little of his time to complete. When he was thirteen he took weekend and evening work at Cabus Hall farm, it was easy for him as he only had to walk down past his grandfather’s workshop, over the fence, across the field, up the hill and he was there, he liked the work and he was a hard worker, which did not go un-noticed by Joseph Smythe, the farmer. The money he earned was always placed on the kitchen table on pay day, to go into the house fund. To say it did not relieve the pressure on the household accounts would be a lie, but half of what George took off the table was halved again and one half of this, unknown to William, was put in a savings account for him, what was left on the table was for William to spend, which he rarely did.

It was the start of William’s fifth year at school, this was to be his last year at this school before he went to Sixth Form College and then University. With William’s academic achievements at school, university was a foregone conclusion. It was early on Wednesday morning when a first year student knocked and entered the English literature lesson. The young girl who, from the look on her blushing face, was hating every minute of this, spoke quietly to the tutor, who looked up from his stooping position at the front desk to look at William.

William! William looked up from his books.

William, will you please go with this young lady? William looked a little perplexed but without question he closed his books leaving them on the desk before following the first year student towards the first year class room. As they neared the first year class room Miss Simonds, the first and second year head was waiting by her study door to intercept them and after thanking Susan, sent her on her way back to her lesson. Miss Simonds smiled at William and thanked him for coming as she closed the door to her study behind them.

Please sit down William, she said taking in a big draw of breath as she perched on the edge of her desk.

William, I have a little problem that I think you may be able to help me with. William listened intently as she continued.

We have a young girl in the second year, she only started on Monday, Her name is India Drummond, she is nearly thirteen. She has come here because she is living, like you with her grandfather. William’s thoughts shot back to his earliest memories and try as hard as he might, he had no recollection before his grandfather. Miss Simonds continued.

Unfortunately both her parents were killed in a car crash and she, as you can understand, is devastated and unresponsive. I am telling you this because I know you will keep it a secret but I also think you, with your personal qualities, background and the respect you have earned from the whole school, you may just be able to reassure her and bring her back out of the protective shell she has created. I will understand if you do not want to try, but I would be very grateful if you did try. William had said nothing, he just sat looking at Miss Simonds, and she knew all along he would try to help, but she just needed to hear him agree.

Ok, I will try!

Thank you William, at the next break time I will walk out with her into the school yard. You will be able to see her then, I am not telling anyone of this conversation. William nodded, stood and left her study to return to his own class. She slumped back in the chair her hands clasped together fingers locked and her two index fingers pointing upwards, just bouncing delicately off her lips, had she done the right thing she thought.

At the next break time William was not in his usual spot on the low wall, he positioned himself a little way along, hoping that Miss Simonds would note this and place India where he usually sat. The teacher spotted William had moved and decided that he had done this for a reason, so she steered India to William’s usual spot. India was a delicate little girl with long blond hair wearing the regulation school uniform for first and second year students, white blouse, grey gymslip, white ankle socks and black shoes. Miss Simonds called William over.

William may I introduce India Drummond, she has come to join us from a school down south. India this is William Wood, William lives with his grandfather as well. William moved closer Hello, India’s head never looked up and she did not speak, she was staring at a small lace handkerchief which she held in her hands twisting and twisting it round and round. Miss Simonds left giving a small hopeful smile to William. As she left India and William, she did not notice that her presence in the school yard had come to the attention of many, including Marnie Evans. Marnie one of the more precocious fifth year girls had