The Incredible Fortunes of Riley

This novel is about a simple working man who has an amazing run of good fortune. From an accident which puts him in hospital, he meets the love of his live. Through a series of events, they marry in a double wedding with his best friend. Their brides are also best friends. Through some house clearing work, our main character finds goods that earn him a fortune. There are many twists and turns to this story, and many sub-plots. A light-hearted tale and now of a series of five... All are an excellent holiday read.

Our story starts here... Now picture the scene... a quiet country lane on a cloudy early morning. The only sounds are a blackbird singing in the hedgerow – and the trundle of a set of wheels on a costermongers barrow... Wait a minute... That doesn't fit into a rural landscape, does it? Well, in this case it does. Slowly making his way up the slope is a tall and fit looking fellow pushing this barrow. His mission is to collect some rolls of wire and an old mangle from his neighbour, Major Harris, a gentleman farmer, and a good friend. This is Paddy Riley and while many people might refer to him as a tinker, or a scrap man, or even a scavenger. There is much more to this man – as we shall see. "Morning, Blackie. I hope yer not calling the rain in” Which tells us a whole lot about our hero; he is used to working alone, and often talks to the birds, or animals by habit. Also, he is well versed in the ways of the countryside, where the song of the blackbird often heralds a rain shower on its way. Not for nothing is this bird often referred to as a 'Storm Cock'. You might also note that Paddy was not concerned that he could be heard. Paddy Riley couldn't care two hoots who heard him, so there. 2. Outside Major Harris's gate is an old Ford son 'F' tractor. Very old. In fact, the last of this rare specimen was built in 1918. It was a minor miracle that it had survived this long. It has a concrete block behind its back wheel because the handbrake on these old machines is not too reliable. So it is facing up the incline with the block to prevent it running away down the hill. The engine is running at a rapid tick-over, which was common practice with everyone who ran these beasts due to the fact that they were such an absolute pain to get started. Many bruised and broken thumbs will bear out the truth in this. They start on petrol, then run on kerosene. Paddy didn't even give a second thought to all of this as he went past the tractor and through the open gate. Just before he reached the house he met the Major, looking very red-faced and flustered. “Mornin', Major. What's givin' ye grief, then?” “Paddy, my friend, I have bad news. I put out your bits by the shed last night, and this morning the lot had gone. Some bugger has pinched it all, and a dismantled greenhouse I had there as well! I never heard a thing.” “Have you called the police yet?” asked Paddy. “No. I can't. The damn telephone line is down, so I can't call the police on the bloody bounders.” “Well that's both of us without the 'phone then,” said Paddy, “I'm on the same line as you. A shame about the wire and stuff, but what I haven't had, I can't miss. I had a notion to fix up your old mangle and possibly make a few bob out of it.” "Good of you to say so, Paddy. I'm sorry. I'll have to phone from the village now. I'll just feed the dog and get to it.” “Right ye are, Major. I'll see yer later.” And with that, Paddy turned back down the path... Now several things conspired to cause what happened next. In the first instance was the fact that Paddy had enjoyed quite a lively night in the Old Grey Mare the previous night, thanks to a bit of a bonus from a well placed flutter on the neddies, and he was still very slightly light headed. So when he saw a stone in the path, he could not resist giving it a healthy kick. As one does, right... Oh... Big mistake... The stone was a bit heavier that Paddy thought, and “Ouch, me toe!” Yes it hurt. Paddy was too busy hopping on one foot to notice where his stone had gone. It bounced off of the mudguard of that old tractor and hit a bag of tools that had been sitting in the bucket seat. 3. I said had been, because the bag fell forward and hit the gear lever. Now, what happened next was a chance in a million... The gear lever snicked into gear with a loud CLUNK! By the rarest of chances, the gears had lined up... Yes, it can happen. I have seen it! Then the tractor lurched forwards. “Yike!” Screamed Paddy, and dived sideways out of its way. In doing so, he landed very awkwardly and his other ankle gave out an ominous crack. “Ahhh!” called Paddy as he landed on the verge, where he cracked his head on a stone and passed out cold and rolled into the ditch. Meanwhile, the tractor trundled off at a steady two miles per hour up the hill until the point where the lane went to the right. The tractor didn't. The left hand wheel met the grass verge, and the tractor took a detour through the hedge to the left. By some quirk of fate, a branch from the hedge hit that little lever just below the steering wheel – you guessed – the accelerator! Anyone who has ever driven an old tractor already knows this... This notched up its speed to a much more lively seven miles per hour at least, and so it disappeared from view. A few minutes later Paddy's best friend Bernie walked onto the scene on his way back from the mornings milking. It was a regular habit of his to drop in on his mate Paddy on his way home for his 'second breakfast' as was common practice when dealing with cattle. He also dropped off a canister of fresh milk, and pick up the empty can from the previous visit. Then after a cup of tea and a chat, plus a liberal dose of biscuits, and he'd be on his way. He was well used to being out at this time of day, and he had been part of Paddy's drinking session the previous night and had a very good ration of ale. Following this with a generous portion of pie, peas and chips. A good night was had by one and all. However, it left Bernie still just a little bit off kilter this morning, so he welcomed the cool morning air. He knew that the walk would help him clear his fuzzy head a bit and give him a healthy appetite for his second breakfast. No-one getting up at five o'clock to milk the cows ever had a full breakfast at that time of day. Hence his 'second breakfast'. Seeing Paddy's barrow, he called “Paddy.” He had a few field mushrooms in his bag to share and add to his pal's breakfast. A generous soul, was our Bernie. When he heard no reply, he called again a bit louder “Paddy!” He was about to go into the Major's place to look for him there when he heard a groan coming from the long grass on the verge. “Ooh, whassat then?” “Arragh” Came again. Then Bernie saw his mate on his back in the long grass of the ditch. “Paddy! Waas 'appened? You alright?” “Steady, Bernie me boy, I'm hurt.” Bernie lifted his pal up into a sitting position as gently as he could. “Wass 'appened? What yer done?” Bernie's concern was real. They were very close pals, and had been for a long time now. “I took a tumble into the ditch.” Said Paddy “I've cracked me ankle, and whacked me head. I daresay there's no damage to a head like mine, but I tink me ankle is bust.” With that, Bernie set about to do what he could to help. From one of his many pockets he found some bailer twine, then he pulled out his trusty knife. One he kept sharp at all times. From the hedgerow he cut half a dozen straight sticks, and trimmed them of leaves. 4. Next, he measured them off against Paddy's foot, and cut them back to size." "Ye know what yer doing there, Bern?” “Course I do.” Came a swift reply. “We get daft buggers breakin' things regular on the farm.” With that, he set to work lashing the sticks to either side of Paddy's ankle, while Paddy gritted his teeth to stand the pain. “How come that string is always orange?” asked Paddy through his pain. “Just 'cos 'tis. Now brace yerself, an' shurrup while I get this tight. Is the Major at 'ome? We needs 'is phone.” “Ah, yer out of luck there, me boy, the phones are down. He told me just a while back. He'll be of down the village by now to get the phone box.” “So what we goin' ter do now, then?” This is where Bernie's mind came up with his most logical solution. “If I get yer down to the village, and phone yer an amblance from there, that'll be a lot quicker than askin' them to find yer up 'ere.” With that, he hoisted the protesting Paddy gingerly on to his barrow. “Hold tight, me mate, we be takin' a walk.” So he set off down the lane. At the top of the village the lane curves to the right, and the slope becomes a lot steeper. Why am I telling you this? Well, read on, and find out... As Bernie reached the steeper part of the lane, he found that his load began to pull that little bit more, so he had to brace himself against it. Until the fateful moment when suddenly he was faced with a surreal vision: From the right hand bank, a grubby green tractor appeared – with no driver – and Jim Parry's prize White Leghorn rooster perched on the bucket seat... "Bugger Oi! Wassat?” In total dis-belief, Bernie rubbed his eyes... Yes! In doing so, he had let go of that barrow – on a steep slope... “Bernie! Grab the barrer, yer great berk!” But by the time Bernie had gathered his senses and realised what had happened, the barrow – with Paddy clinging on for dear life – had already got a five yards start. (If you want that in metres, you'll have to work it out yourself, because I can't be bothered.) Bernie immediately gave chase, but, as they say in these parts, Bernie was built for comfort, not for speed. He was quite a sturdy chap, fit, but not too quick. Thus came the second catastrophe of the day... With impeccable timing, the local bus service was due, and the driver had a faultless reputation for being on time, or very close to it. He was known to one and all as 'Fat Stan' and his other claim to fame was his habit of crooning to his passengers. He could sing his way through the complete song books of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and several others, and this particular morning his artist of choice was Matt Munroe, and the song was "Portrait of My Love." Just off the sharp bend at the cenotaph, his passengers were doing their usual gossip; “Do you know what she said next? Well, you know, I was so annoyed...” CARRUMP! ...Barrow met bus... and the bus won... "Ooh gracious! What's that?” said one of the ladies... Nellie Morgan screamed... Mavis White just fainted. An air of panic ensued, and everyone talking at once, when Bernie hove into view, gasping for breath. As he took in the scene before him, there was only one thought on his mind, “Where's moi mate? Where's Paddy?” "What do you mean 'Where's Paddy' What's that all about?" 5. Bernie gasped, "Well 'e was on that barrer, an' 'e ain't now. 'An' 'he's 'urt too!" This brought a rapid silence to the queue. Big Stan, the bus driver, had got out to see what the damage was to his precious bus and turned to Bernie; “What are you on about? Who's barrow is that anyway? What the hell is going on here?” Lots of questions. Too many for our Bernie. “Look. Paddy was on that barrow. He ain't now. Where's 'e gone? 'E's 'urt. Find 'm quick. 'E needs an amblance...” All this while gasping for breath, but he got the message across, and they all began to look for Paddy, or what may be left of him. Except Big Stan. He was more concerned about the damage to his precious bus. “Well, it ain't as bad as I thought it would be. A dab of bluddy paint should do.” “Oh Stanley, please – your language!” From one of the ladies. Stan didn't see which one. “Sorry. I got carried away a bit.” “Oh, I should say so...” And so the search continued. Then came a shout from the back of the bus, “He's up there, on the roof!” Young Jack Black had seen one foot dangling over the back end of the bus, showing a green sock, but no shoe... Another round of chaos while everyone spoke at once, and no-one made very much sense. “Oi needs a ladder.” Bernie shouted. This got an immediate response, and right away Jack dashed off to one of the nearest houses to get one. Meanwhile, young Nellie had gone to the phone box to call an ambulance. (Yes, I can spell it properly, that previous spelling was how Bernie says it. OK?) Bernie climbed up to retrieve his friend from the roof. Paddy was now mercifully in dreamland, having passed out cold once more. So how did he end up on the roof...? Well, as the barrow hit the front of the bus, Paddy was launched forwards and cracked his head on the front of the bus, just above the windscreens. This was just enough to knock him out, and also to spin him over in a delicate somersault, to land flat on his back on the bus roof. Some achievement, really, and well worth ten points for style... Nellie came back from the phone box and picked up a pencil off the floor. She looked at it, apparently deep in thought. With Paddy safely down, big Stan ushered his passengers back on to the bus. “I'm seven minutes late already. Listen, I'll take all your fares as you get off, so it saves time.” They climbed aboard, and set off at some speed. Where Stan would trundle at a sedate twenty-five miles per hour; today, in order to make up his precious seven minutes, he put his foot down. At nearly forty-five miles an hour around those narrow, twisty country lanes, they all had a ride that they would remember for the rest of their lives... There were a few false teeth that rattled a bit on that journey, I can tell you. As the ambulance arrived and collected Paddy, we draw this part of the story to a close. Bernie retrieved the barrow, which was quite surprisingly almost still intact, and parked it where he could pick it up later. Meanwhile, off in the distance, was the sound of a tractor running, but of course, no-one took any notice of that. It was just one more of the familiar sounds of the countryside... The old green tractor was still on the move, somewhere in the distance. Everything went very quiet after that... Little did they realise that this would set off a chain of events that would change the lives of several of them completely... *** 6. Paddy opened his eyes to find himself in a cream coloured room, with the curtains drawn. His first thoughts were that his head hurt, his shoulder hurt as well, and there was a heavy lump on his left foot. This was a plaster cast to hold his ankle firm, but all Paddy felt was an inconvenient weight there. He felt his forehead to find a tight pad and a bandage. Then his memory began to kick in. He remembered the wild ride on his barrow, and running into the bus, but after going airborne, he knew no more. There was a vague recollection of being wheeled on a stretcher down a corridor, and a needle being put into his arm, but nothing else. He had a strange taste in his mouth that wasn't very pleasant and vaguely familiar, he wondered if that was from an anaesthetic. (Which it was.) Deciding that there was nothing he could do about his current situation, he dozed back off to sleep. When he next opened his eyes he was aware of someone in the room, so became alert quite quickly. He had been trained to do this in his army days, and the other person was immediately aware that he was awake. She came to the bedside and asked "How do ye feel?" He was immediately attracted to