COLONEL NOAH

OTHER CHAPTERS

CHAPTER 4

Sharon Dailey had cycled past Darren's house half a dozen times at various speeds trying to catch a glimpse of him, or if not, trying to work out where he might be. The bike that she was using was her father's old one and not very reliable but she persevered.

She was desperate to bump into him accidentally on purpose because she thought he was wonderful, really brill. Her first love. She was smitten by his devastating indolent movements, the way his hair curled over his ears and his slow smile.

She knew she could make him notice her if only he would come out. Sharon needed to have him to herself, to make him laugh and ask him important questions about himself. Perhaps he would ask her to go to the pictures, they could sit and do smoochy things to each other. She shivered at the thought.

She had put on her new T-shirt which had a lion's face on the front. She wore the usual uniform of out of school students' blue jeans with slit knees, very uncomfortable for pedalling, and scruffy trainers. The only drawback to cycling up and down the cul-de-sac was Darren's neighbours. He lived next door to the dreaded terrifying Colonel Frazer-Lambert. That horrible man always looked at her as if she was doing something wrong, and in the next house lived The Miss Teesdales, the loopy one and the headmistress who always knew when you were doing something wrong. Still Darren was worth it!

She turned the bike round again for the umpteenth time, idly watching her feet on the pedals counting slowly to herself and thinking if I can reach his gate before I reach a hundred he will see me and come out.

When she looked up the person she saw was Colonel Lambert standing at his gate. She could hardly pretend that she hadn't seen him so when he beckoned she slithered to a halt, trainers scuffing the road.

'Good morning young lady, aren't you one of the Dailey children?'

'Yes, the only one,' said Sharon somewhat overawed at being spoken to in such a normal manner by the Bulldog of Britain as her father called him.

'Is your father at home today?'

Sharon nodded. Her dad was always at home these days. He had worked for the same firm for twenty-five years and had just recently been made redundant when they had closed down due to lack of work. He told anyone who would listen what it was like to be out of work at his age, what chance of getting another job. He was a skilled man, a time-served carpenter, City and Guilds.

They didn't make craftsmen like him anymore, starting from scratch sanding down window frames before being allowed to touch a piece of furniture. Sharon had heard it a million times. She was always pleased when he got up out of his chair and went into the shed to whittle his bits of wood, redundancy had knocked him sideways. Thelma worked as a cook at the hospital so he felt even more when she was out at work. They had cut down on their spending too, no more holidays in sunny Spain for a fortnight.

'Do you think he might spare me a few minutes of his time?'

'He might,' said Sharon.

'Would you like to pop home and see if he's busy? Say Colonel Frazer would be obliged if he could spare a half hour or so, or shall I come down and see him myself?'

'No, no,' said Sharon instantly worrying about the state of the house. She had promised her mother that she would do the washing up but somehow the time had just slipped away and now it would be all congealed on the plates and really difficult.

'I'll go and ask him right away.'

She suddenly realised that this was a legitimate excuse for hanging about near Darren's, her dad was going to see the Colonel. She turned the bike round in the road and wobbled down to her house.

'Dad, Dad,' she shouted as she reached the back door, 'the colonel wants to see you right away.'

'Is that you our Sharon? Where have you been? You promised your mother that you'd wash up and vacuum and nothing's been done.'

'I'll do it now. Dad, the Colonel wants to see you.'

'It's too late I've already done it but you'll do it for the rest of the week my lady.'

'Sorry, Dad,' and Sharon was sorry. She hated to see her father so dejected and sort of haunted looking. He very seldom went out for a pint with his mates these days knowing that every penny was needed for clothes and food.

'Did he say what he wanted?'

'No, Dad. He said he would be obliged if you could spare him half an hour of your valuable time and I said I'd come and see. He's standing at his front gate.'

Tom Dailey smiled at his daughter, she could take the colonel off to a 'T'

'I'd better have a quick shave. You nip back and tell him I'll be there in fifteen minutes. And watch out for that Darren Sharp I hear he's a bit of a lady-killer.'

'Oh, our Dad,' Sharon blushed to her hairline.

Fifteen minutes later Tom was walking down the road to the Colonel's house and, passing Sharon, shouted, 'Off you go and tidy up before your Mam gets home, have the kettle on for half past and make her a cup of tea.'

Sharon waved her hand and road home slowly.

Tom walked down the drive and round to the back door. He was amazed to see a stretch of concrete right down the back garden. The Colonel had always been very generous with his extra vegetables in the past. Thelma had said something earlier in the year about lorries in the Avenue but he hadn't taken too much notice. What was the old fellow up to? He knocked and waited.

'Afternoon Mr Dailey, good of you to spare the time. Would you like to come through to the dining room and I'll explain why I wanted to see you.'

'My time is my own at the moment, Colonel, been made redundant after all those years at Bryants. Makes you wonder what the world is coming to when a craftsman can't find an honest job.'

'I did hear something about that. Did you consider working from home. I'm sure you could turn your hand to most things.'

'I did look into it but it needs capital and a certain amount of business know-how. I do odd jobs for friends and I'm hoping it will take off from there. I'm making a dining room table for the butcher in the high street at the moment.'

'Well now Mr Dailey I may have the answer to your problem. You see I've made my dining room into an office or planning room, if you like. I need some practical help. I heard that you were out of work from Mrs Blount so I thought you were just the man I needed.'

Tom had stopped in the doorway of the dining room. It looked like a cross between a reading room at the library and a ship's chandlers. There were books open on chairs, charts, maps, rolled and unrolled, diagrams on the bureau and models of ships, boats and other sailing vessels on every available space.

'Move something and sit down Mr Dailey and I'll explain my intention then you can say 'Yea or Nay' when you've heard me out.'

Tom propped various charts against the wall and sat. He was fascinated so far. He'd only set foot in the house once before when he had been asked to put some shelves up in the kitchen. Mrs Frazer-Lambert had been alive at the time - a lovely lady.

'Before I put this proposition to you I must ask for your solemn promise to be discreet. I don't wish for any panic or dissention amongst my neighbours.'

Tom waited.

'I pride myself on being a good judge of character, one has to be in the army, I know I can rely on you to keep your own council. It has come to my knowledge through various sources that the earth's temperature is changing and that it will escalate very quickly. I'm sure you know of this. We do have first hand knowledge of this ourselves don't we? When we were young there was always snow in Winter and hot Summers.'

Tom nodded.

'Now we have National nothing. Sometimes droughts or floods, hosepipe bans and global warming, holes in the ozone layer. The Earth is in a very odd state weather-wise. I have theory, based on very good information that the whole of the Arctic Continent is breaking up. Both ice-caps are melting. My son, who is a captain in the Royal Navy, said nothing to refute this idea when I put it to him. It is obvious to me that we are in for a second flood. It is therefore my intention to build a ship on which we can live when this disaster occurs.'

The Colonel stopped and Tom sat mesmerised. After a moment he blurted out,

'An ark, like Noah?'

'Very similar,' smiled the Colonel. A modern Ark with lots of help from modern technology.'

He was pleased that Tom hadn't asked any usual mundane questions that a man of lesser vision might have asked. He continued,

'You don't question my knowledge of what I think is going to happen?'

'I might have done at this time last year,' said Tom, 'but since my redundancy I've had more time to think, to look and listen to what is going on in the world and I reckon that God is about at the end of his tether again, Colonel.'

'I don't think God has a lot to do with this little tragedy. I think man has done this all by himself.'

'God works in a mysterious way isn't that what it says in the bible?' Tom wondered why he wasn't finding it strange to be having this discussion on a weekday afternoon in the colonel's house.

'Too mysterious for me Mr Dailey. I'd rather deal with it in a practical way. Now shall we get down to it?'

He stood up and moved towards the table where there was a large blueprint of a vessel.. Tom followed, his face seriously intent. They leaned together over the table in complete harmony.

'I'd prefer 'Tom' to 'Mr Dailey' if that's alright with you Colonel.'

'Harold,' said the Colonel.

'I think I'll stick with 'Colonel', said Tom.

'Fine by me, Tom,' said the Colonel.

They studied the plans in silence.

'In wood,' said Tom.

'British oak, seasoned, on order. Oak for the structure and pine for the interior. To last you see. The Mary Rose was over three hundred years old, and if ever repairs were needed the materials would be to hand. Man-made, such as fibre glass or plastic may not be available later.'

'Scaffolding would be the first job,' Tom mused, 'I have friend who could help us there. We are going to need a bit more help than the two of us can manage, just for the physical labour.'

'I agree, I'll be guided by you in this Tom, my part is more theoretical. I'm sure it will work out splendidly. Use you own discretion. Just tell our helpers on a 'need-to know basis.'

'Planning permission,' asked Tom?

'All looked into, permission not needed, not a permanent structure you see. Planning laws only cover extensions to original buildings and it's been built away from the house at the back so it doesn't interfere with the neighbours. Also we are not in a Conservation Area or an Area of Outstanding Beauty.'

'Good, what about length, I presume all that has been sorted too?'

'Oh, yes, decided on length with the garden in mind. but if necessary I will apply to Farmer Denver, he seldom uses that field, too rocky, just a few sheep. As for height, permission is only needed if we build higher than the highest part of the house, but as I said it isn't a permanent structure so we are in the clear.'

'You seem to have thought of everything.'

'I'm sure there are a thousand and one things that I've missed but we'll deal with them as they crop up. When can you start? I'm just assuming that you have agreed to work with me, haven't I? We haven't mentioned wages!'

'I'll leave all that to you Colonel. This project of yours is something I've been dreaming of all my life, working in wood, something different, challenging everything a craftsmen could wish for. I'll ring Fred tonight, see if we can get things moving.'

'That would be splendid Tom, and don't worry about the financial side of things. You can leave all that to me.'

They worked away quietly through into the evening, making comments, taking notes, fingers pointing, questions raised, nods, smiles, frowns until at last when all the preliminary problems seemed to be answered the Colonel proclaimed a halt.

'Whisky, Tom?'

'Fine, Colonel.'

They sat down with their drinks, two men well pleased with themselves, their endeavours and their future. Adventurers embarking on the trip of a lifetime and revelling in it.

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