Grandpa’s Great Escape

But as Jack was trailing behind, and just out of earshot of his parents, the vicar turned to him and hissed, “We’ll see about that, young man…”

7

Disneyland for Old People

It was nearly dawn by the time they were all home. Jack managed to convince his parents that it was for the best that Grandpa stayed with the family for the rest of the night, rather than return alone to his flat.

The boy put it in terms he thought his grandfather would understand. “Because of enemy reconnaissance missions in the area, the Air Chief Marshal has ordered you to move quarters.”

Before long, Grandpa was fast asleep on the bottom bunk in the boy’s bedroom, snoring for England.

ZZZzzz! ZZZZZZ!

Zzz! ZZZzz!

The ends of the old man’s moustache blew up and down with each breath.

Unable to sleep, and with his heart still pounding in his chest from the night’s adventure, the boy slid down silently from the top bunk. As was often the case he could hear muffled voices from downstairs and wanted to listen to what his parents were saying. Expertly he opened his bedroom door without making a sound. He sat on the carpet at the top of the stairs, one of his ears pushed between two bannisters.

“Mr Vicar was right,” said Mum. “A home is the best place for him.”

“I’m really not sure, Barbara,” protested Dad. “Grandpa wouldn’t like it.”

“Did you not listen to the nice man? What did Mr Vicar say about Twilight Towers?”

“He said it was like ‘Disneyland for old people’?”

“Exactly! Now I don’t imagine there are rollercoasters or log flumes or someone dressed up as a giant mouse, but it sounds wonderful.”

“But—”

“The vicar is a man of the church! He would never lie!” snapped Mum.

“Maybe it is like he said. But Grandpa’s always been such a free spirit.”

“Yes!” Mum replied with a note of triumph in her voice. “Such a free spirit that we find him up on the church roof in the middle of the night!”

There was silence for a moment. Dad did not have an answer for this.

“Listen, Barry, what else can we do?” continued Mum. “The old man’s becoming a danger to himself. He very nearly fell off that roof and died!”

“I know, I know…” Dad muttered.

“Well?”

“Maybe it is for the best.”

“That’s settled once and for all then. We can drop him off at Twilight Towers tomorrow.”

As Jack listened at the top of the stairs a tear welled in his eye, and rolled very slowly down his cheek.

8

Spit it Out!

True to form at breakfast the next morning Grandpa was acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As he sat happily tucking into his fried eggs and bacon in the kitchen of the family home, it was clear that the old man had no memory whatsoever of the past night’s dramatic events.

“More bread! Quickly, please, Charlady, chop chop!” he ordered.

Mum did not appreciate being treated like some kind of servant. ‘Charlady’ was what posh people called their cleaners in the olden days. She looked to her husband to do something, but Dad pretended to read the paper.

Two slices of white bread were slammed down on the table and within a moment Grandpa began mopping up all the grease on his plate.

As he devoured the bread, he announced, “I’ll have the bread fried next time, please, Charlady!”

“Oh, will you now?!” replied Mum sarcastically.

Jack couldn’t help but smile, though he tried to hide it.

The old man slurped his tea, followed by a, “Down the hatch!” Grandpa said that whenever he drank anything.

“Mum, Dad, I’ve been thinking,” announced the boy. “As I was up so late, I think it’s best I don’t go to school today.”

“What?” replied Mum.

“Yes. I can stay here and look after Grandpa. In fact, I should probably take the whole week off!”

Jack didn’t like school much. He had just turned twelve so had been sent off to big school. He hadn’t made any friends there yet. All the other kids seemed to be only interested in the latest pop star or silly gadget. This being 1983, many of the kids spent their lessons fiddling with their Rubik’s Cubes under their desks. Jack couldn’t find a single person who had a passion for model aeroplanes. On his first day, he was laughed at by some older boys for even mentioning them. So Jack learned to keep his mouth shut.

“You are going to school today, young man!” Mum always called her son ‘young man’ when he had done something wrong. “You tell him, Barry!”

Dad looked up from his newspaper. “Well, it was very late last night…”

“BARRY!”

The man suddenly thought better of disagreeing with his wife and his sentence quickly changed tack. “…But of course you shouldn’t miss school. And in future please do absolutely everything your mother says.” Finally he added a rather mournful, “I know I do.”

Next, the woman gave her husband a rather unsubtle poke on the shoulder. It was clear she wanted him to make the big announcement about Grandpa. As Dad did not immediately respond, she poked him again. This time it was so hard he actually went, “Ow!”

“Bar-ry…” she prompted. Mum always said Dad’s name in that strange elongated way when she was trying to get him to do something.

Dad put down his paper and folded it slowly to put off speaking as long as he could. He looked straight at his father.

Jack feared the worst.

Was this the moment when Dad would tell Grandpa that he was going to be sent to Twilight Towers?

“Now, Dad. You know we all love you very much and only want the best for you…”