Stories for children and adults by the crazy-mad writer

Wot and Nott: Walking With Statues

Part One - Blood, Rhyme, Steam and Stone

 

 

Wot and Nott: Walking with Statues

 

Chapter Seven

A Winter Wonderland

 

 

Next morning, the snow had stopped falling, leaving Wot’s house surrounded by a winter

wonderland. Next door, in the grounds of the school, the children laughed, played and

shouted in wild excitement.  No, the school had not reopened after the holidays, and even

if it had, the weather was far too severe for their lessons to resume. The accepted custom,

actively encouraged by the good-hearted headmistress, Sister Alexis, was that all children

were welcome in the school playground on snowy days, and this was most certainly a

snowy day.

 

Sitting in bed, pulling the curtains away from the window, Nott watched the children play

in the white gift from above. “It seems like only yesterday when I was out there, doing that,”

he whispered. “I remember it so well. Those were such happy days…” Suddenly, there

was a knock on the bedroom door. “Yes, who is it?” he asked, settling the curtains.

 

“It’s me,” said Wot. “Can I come in?”

 

“Yes, the door’s open.”

 

“Thanks,” he said, entering the room, carrying a tray with a fried breakfast upon it. “And

how are you this wonderful morning?” he asked.

 

“Rested, though my ankle still hurts a bit,” he told him.

 

“Well, this should give you a boost,” said Wot, placing the tray onto the bed. Nott

energetically tucked into the breakfast that would have done the Orlu proud.

 

Pulling curtain away from the window, gazing onto the school playground, below, Wot said,

 

“There is still something that I don’t understand…”

“Hmm, what did you say?” Nott asked, too immersed in the wonderful breakfast to pay him

any real attention.

“Oh, it’s nothing that can’t wait,” Wot answered. Downstairs, the phone began ringing. “I

wonder who that could be at so early an hour?” he said, exiting the bedroom.

 

Although he was unable to hear what his friend was saying to the person on the other end

of the phone line, Nott realised from the tone of Wot’s voice that it was serious. It was an

incredibly long conversation; Nott thought it might never finish. Eventually, finally, Nott

heard his friend hang up the receiver. Sitting patiently in bed, he waited for Wot to return,

to tell him the full details of what he had been speaking so seriously about. However,

fifteen minutes later he was still waiting. He decided to go and find out…

 

Nott’s ankle ached horribly when he stood up. Making his way of his room to the landing,

he said, “Wot, are you there?” No reply. “I said are you there?” Yet again he received

no reply. “Why doesn’t he answer?” he gripped. “I’ll go down and see what he’s up to.”

 

Sitting at the top of the stairs, Nott slid his crutches down before him. Then, one step

at a time, in a seated position, he made his way down.

 

It was only when he reached the second last step did Wot finally appear. “Oh,

you’re down,” he mumbled. “I could have helped you, you know.”

 

Grabbing hold of his crutches, Nott propped himself up, and then made his way along the

hallway, to the kitchen. Sitting on a chair, he said, “Well, are you going to tell me what’s

up?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Wot answered, feigning ignorance.

 

“Come on, I know you better than that,” he said. “Your telephone conversation –

remember?”

 

Fidgeting, Wot fumbled about, hoping the moment might pass.

 

Tapping one of his crutches on the floor, Nott said, “I’m still waiting…”

 

Facing his demons, Wot pulled up a chair. Turning it backwards, straddling it, his

demeanour now sombre, he attempted to speak. However, it took him another ten

minutes before the words emerged from his mouth. When Wot finally began speaking,

he said. “Nott; that call I received. It was from the Director of International Affairs, in

Whitehall.

 

“The who?”

 

“The Director of International Affairs, at the Foreign Office.”

 

“What dose he want with you?”

 

“He wanted to ask me something.”

 

“To ask you something? Why you?”

 

“It’s a long story,” he answered. “Are you sure that you really want to hear this?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

Wot's Big Secret

 

Want to read more? You can purchase

Wot and Nott: Walking With Statues

Part One - Blood, Rhyme, Steam and Stone

by visiting my online bookshop.

 

I am the crazy-mad writer of children's stories,

songs, nursery rhymes and much, much more!

 

Return to top of pageee

 

© Gerrard T Wilson 2008