A Che ning Ad nture
VE
In Devon: Teignmouth and Shaldon
VE
Chapter 3j
Of course James knew that vinegar was like sour wine, and that wine is made from grapes. But hyssop was more of a mystery. He knew that he had read about it in the Bible somewhere. In fact, in more than one place. Digging his digital book reader out of the backpack, James used the magnifying glass option to search. It yielded 12 results within the books of: Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, 1Kings, Psalms, John and Hebrews. He searched further. Hyssop seemed to be some sort of herb or plant, often grown in Southern Europe and the Middle East. Grapes would be easy, but where would he find hyssop here?
​
James had seen some Shaldon Tourist Guides by the entrance. St. Peters was listed among the attractions, along with: a zoo, ferry, golf club, coastal path, smuggler’s cove, botanical gardens, boating opportunities, WW2 landmarks …
​
His eyes halted their march down the page and retraced steps. WW2 landmarks, boating opportunities, botanical gardens... Botanical gardens! The Homeyards Botanical Gardens were close by; up a huge hill; but nevertheless close by. James quickly started to text Sarah about his findings. He hit ‘send’ just as his phone chirped that a message had arrived.
​
It read ‘meet @ the bot gdns dont be late @ yr folly s’.
James laughed. People always talked about the connection between twins but this was ridiculous. Quickly stuffing the free guides and digital reader back into his pack, he headed out again, with some relief that the rain had at last abated. Wanting to get there before his sibling, he started sprinting up the road towards the Broadlands entrance of the gardens.
​
Entering via the gate, James looked at the visitor’s map on the board. It was huge. There was a ‘Witches Cave’, Italian Gardens, Decorative Castle, Pond & Rill, Woodland Walk. How would they find each other? He reached for his phone and re-read the message. ‘… dont be late @ yr folly s’. It didn’t really make sense. It would make sense if it was ‘Be late at your folly’; but the ‘don’t’ muddled the meaning. What was he missing? Punctuation for one thing!
And there was the solution… What if the message was ‘Meet at the botanical gardens. Don’t be late. At your folly.
Sarah knew that James’ fascination for history also extended to places like the Scotney and Chiddingstone castles in Kent. He loved not only ones immersed in history; but also those ornamental ones commissioned by affluent land-owners keen to impress their friends with a ruin in their ‘back garden’. In fact, James had turned the treehouse at home into a make-shift folly himself, complete with improvised portcullis!
​
James spotted ramparts on the horizon and sprinted to the top of the hill. Pausing for breath, and perhaps influenced by what he had seen at St. Peter’s; he stopped for a moment by a memorial cross, to regather strength. He had found an area dedicated to the nurses of WW2 at Shaldon. James could barely imagine the horrors they must have seen in the war, as well as the sacrifice and heroism displayed by all. He steeled himself with the knowledge of their courage and ran on.
