GHOST FOR SALE
Barrington Stoke

PITT STREET PIRATES
Barrington Stoke
Have you dreamed of finding long-lost treasure? meet the Pitt Street Pirates - a group of friends with just one thing in mind - to sail the lakes in their local park in search of local gold. But how will they put their plans into action? And can they stop the Rich Kids from getting there first?

WAR GAMES
Barrington Stoke
Two stories, set in World War II, one in Germany, one in Britain, looking at the lives of children in the war.

THE LAST VIKING

Barrington Stoke

A tale set in the days after the Norman conquest when the Vikings made one last attempt to raid the north-east coast of England.

DICK TURPIN - LEGENDS AND LIES

A group of people meet at the scaffold to watch Dick Turpin hang in York. Some believe the legend of his brave life as a highwayman ... but others are able to tell the true tale of the man who was a bully and a thug.

THE VAMPIRE OF CROGLIN

Based on a true story this explores the terrifying tale of a monster that attacks a young woman in a lonely village in the North of England. Make up your own mind about the truth behind the tale

A Northern England town. June 1944

"You're going to the country, George" my Mum told me.

"What for?" I asked.

She sighed and wiped her hands on her apron. "That nasty Mr Hitler is dropping bombs on all the big towns. We may be next. You don't want a bomb landing on your head, do you?"

"Better than going to the country," I sniffed.

"There's lots of grass in the country," she said.

"There's lots of grass growing in the cracks in the road."

Mum sighed. "You're going, and that's it."

"Aw, Mum."

"Don't argue. I've packed your suitcase. You go tomorrow."

I wandered out into the back lane and kicked at the cobble stones. Jimmy came out his back gate and ran up to me. "I'm getting excavated tomorrow," he said.

I glared at him. "Evacuated."

"Yes," he nodded. "That as well. Are you getting excavated?"

"Evacuated."

"Well? Are you?" He was so excited his eyes were shining and his cheeks as red as his hair.

"Yes," I groaned.

"It'll be good, won't it?" he asked.

I'd heard the stories. Some kids went away and had an awful time. They stayed in strange houses and the people that looked after them were cruel. They made them work on farms and do all the dirty jobs. I looked at Jimmy. So excited.

"It'll be great," I told him.

"Shall we have one last game of cricket before we go?" he asked.

"Fetch the bat and ball," I said.

The great thing about football is the memories it gives you. I've seen matches that were so exciting I'll remember them the rest of my life ... even if I live to be a hundred and thirty-seven.
But there's one match I'll remember till I'm two hundred and thirty-seven. It's one I played in over forty years ago. The Boxing Day game where I scored three goals for the first and last time in my life.
Of course it was my Dad that got me interested in the game. "I could have played for England, Jud!" he used to tell me as we kicked the ball from one end of our little back garden to the other.
"Why didn't you, Dad?"
"I were too busy winning the war," he said. When I was really young I used to believe he was a gun-shooting hero! I as grew older I found he was a cook at the army camp and I was a bit disappointed. When I grew much older I understood what he meant when he said, "We all played our part. A goalkeeper at the back doesn't score goals ... but he's just as important as the men at the front who do all the shooting."
He smacked the ball and it flew past my ear and buried itself in the hedge. "Dad ten - Jud one!" he cried and went inside for a cup of tea.
He always beat me ten - one ... that's when he wasn't beating me ten - nil. But I didn't mind. He wasn't one of those dads who was soft and let his kid win. He was tough and he was fair and I learned more that way. That Christmas Eve I think I managed to lose just ten - two!
And that was the Christmas I'll never forget. We had Christmas lunch then we sat by the Christmas tree to open our presents. I tried to look pleased with the jumpers and gloves and the books and board-games and chocolates ... but there was nothing really exciting.
"You're getting a bit old for toys," Mum said. "Your Dad has no excuse to buy himself some toys."
Granny sat in the corner and chuckled. The year before Dad had bought me a train set then spent the next two days playing with it!
"No, Mum," I sighed.
Dad clicked his fingers. "Here, Jud!" he cried. "I wonder if there's anything in the magic hat?"
"Ohhhh! The magic hat!" I whispered.
Gran smiled into the coal fire. She knew what was coming.
Dad had learned a few magic tricks to entertain the troops and he used them to give me special surprises for my birthday. He did a magic act for my friends at my party and always ended by pulling a special present from his top hat. He'd never used it at Christmas though.
He took the hat from the cupboard and I was thrilled. I had no idea what would come out this time. I'd get so excited I never watched carefully to see how he did the trick. Whenever I asked him he just shrugged and said, "Why, it's magic of course!"
"Say the magic words, Jud!" he commanded in a booming voice.
"Abracadabra, hocus-pocus!" I said.
Somehow he seemed to pull the package from an empty hat. He did! I'll swear he did! Gran nodded happily and Mum pressed her lips tight. I didn't know what was in the package but I did know she didn't approve.
I ripped the paper off so fast I scared the cat. It ran into the kitchen and the dog got excited and chased after it.
I held the present in my hands like it were the gold, frankincense and myrrh of the Three Wise Men all rolled into one.
"Boots!" I said and my eyes were filling with tears. "Football boots!" I kept repeating it and sniffing. Dad tried hard not to sniff too. Mum tried hard not to smile. "Thanks, Dad," I said finally.
"And your Mum," he said.
"Thanks Mum."
"You're spoilt," she said.