Magnus Fin and the Ocean Quest Read Free

your face, filling your lungs – how awful.” Granny May looked like she would burst into tears.
    To change the subject, and move to another of his favourite topics, Magnus Fin sank down on to his bed, patting it for Granny to come and cuddle up next to him.
    “Tell me what Mum was like before,” he said. His mother had gone for her nap and his father had gone out fishing. Magnus always asked for that story – every Sunday – and Granny May always told it to him.
    “Oh, all right, my boy. If I can just get comfy on this boat bed of yours then I’ll tell you all about your beautiful mother.”
    He had to make sure his mother was out of hearing range. It was part of their game. Magnus Fin jumped up and closed his bedroom door.
    “Ready lad? Coast clear?” she called.
    “All clear, Captain,” he said, saluting like a sailor. Then with a leap he jumped aboard and squashed up next to her on the bed.
    “Well then, once upon a time Barbara, your mother, was the belle of the county. Lads used to come from as far as Inverness for the dances in our village, just in the hope she might partner them in a Gay Gordons or a Strip the Willow or one of these disco things. Oh, she had bonniewarm brown eyes and a sweet red mouth that was forever smiling and her hair was a curtain of coppery curls. And the pretty dresses she had! Goodness, her wardrobe was bursting with them. Cost me a fortune! But I didn’t mind, Fin; she looked such a picture in them. And high-heeled shoes, and fancy jackets and dangly earrings. She loved to dress up did your mother. Height of fashion she was. And what a dancer! And did I tell you about her singing?”
    Magnus Fin nodded. Yes, he’d heard about her singing and dancing and dressing up, but he needed to hear about it again and again and again. His grandmother ruffled his mop of black hair, kissed him on the cheek and carried on.
    “Oh, she had a voice I can tell you, like a nightingale. And like you, my lad, she was forever messing about down at the seashore. She could have married a lord, so she could. Well, she married your father and they were the happiest, bonniest couple in the north. Strange wedding, mind you, Magnus. Oh, it was great fun and the salmon on the table was second to none, but your dad invited none of his family. Not one! Which meant I had to do most of the work. Well, they got this wee cottage at the shore and everything was fine. Your dad got a job up at the farm and people say he was a good worker and your beautiful mother worked in the jewellers in town. Well, you were born and what a lovely wee boy you were. Then not long after your third birthday something happened. The good Lord knows what because I don’t, but in a jiffy all the beauty andyouth in the pair of them went away. You’d think someone had gathered it up in a jug then poured it down the drain. Gone. Puff! Just like that.”
    Magnus Fin bit his bottom lip. He never enjoyed this part of the story.
    “No one knows what happened,” Granny May went on, shaking her head, “and if I’ve asked my daughter once, I’ve asked her a thousand times. But you just remember, boy, she was a beauty, and for that matter, so was your father. Now, lad, is there a cup of tea for your grandmother? Hm? All this speaking has made me as dry as a cork. And a wee biscuit too if you can spare it.”
    Magnus Fin jumped up, went through to the kitchen and made his grandmother tea. She had taught him to make tea, and toast and porridge. And she taught him to sing “You Cannae Shove Your Granny Off a Bus.” He came back with the tea, singing away to himself.
    “You are a great wee singer too. Just like your mother. And a little bird told me there’s a boy having a birthday soon,” she said, slurping her tea and winking at him over the rim of the cup. Magnus Fin nodded and grinned. “And what will that wee laddie who is going to be eleven be wanting?” she asked.
    Magnus Fin shrugged his shoulders. What he really wanted was what