THE ANCIENT PATH

By Tessa Harvey

CHAPTER FIVE

Over the next few days, Gabe worked around the house, fixing and altering various rails and window frames. As it was fine, he decided to try and stabilise the verandah.

Sometimes Jim lent a hand. On one of these occasions, through a mouthful of nails, he told Jim about the dream, recounting it simply just as it was.

Jim laid down his plane, thought for a while, then said he was going to get something.

He returned with an old book, carefully wrapped in brown paper, torn at the edges. "This was my wife's", he explained. "Keep it out of sight. It explains about the ancient paths."

Gabe thanked him, laid it carefully in a drawer in his room, and slowly finished his work.

After a cafe lunch he wandered around the town. Some parts were very old, most were modern. There were few children around. Those that were, were mostly skimming around on bikes or skateboards, skipping, kicking balls or being pushed around in strollers.

People seemed busy and seldom stopped to chat. One old lady was sat outside an ancient house and called out to him. "This lane was called St Bridgets, but they are re-naming it. Bit too religious", she chuckled. "The other name was Brewery Lane."

Gabe told her he was staying with Jim. The old lady was delighted. "Used to give Jim and his sister Jane pancakes and pop when they were kids.

"I had a little table and two chairs for them."

"Their dad used to give me lifts to church. No church now. It's very sad."