my first encounter

This will only be a short blog as it concerns my Uncle Roy who I mentioned in a previous blog. After the high of my tenth birthday, I had spent the next few weeks learning to ride properly. But one Sunday, I had a small mishap. I was cycling down our street when a dog ran out in front of me and I swerved to avoid it. Unfortunately for me, one of the cars was ( there were only two on the whole estate) was parked in the road. I hit the front of the car with a thud and fell off my bike. I quickly got up, picked up my bike and looked around with embarrassment. I thought that's lucky I'm okay. I was about to get back on my bike when a heard a Scottish voice say "hold on, are you okay?" I looked round and saw this man. I did not know I said "ye im okay." He said "you do not look okay. Look at your trousers. I looked down and saw that one trouser leg was torn at the knee and was covered in blood. The man sat me down called to his wife and said call for an ambulance. Luckily we had a public call phone box on our estate so after five minutes the lady  returned and said the ambulance is coming. "Where do you live?" said the man who had told me his name was Jack. So I told him and he sent his wife to get my nan who was the only one home that morning. My nan turned up at the same time as the ambulance so she came with me to the hospital. I needed ten stitches in my knee. It turns out I had put my knee through the headlight of the car when I hit it .




It was two weeks later that I had my stitches removed. Ater I came back from the hospital, I went straight to the shed to get my bike but it was not there. I went indoors and asked my family if my bike had been put somewhere else but nobody had moved it. My grandfather said go next door and ask Mr. Deller if he's seen anyone about who he does not know lately.

So I went and asked Mr. Dellar. He said "no..why? what's up? So I told him my bike was missing. "No" said Mr. Dellar. Your Uncle Roy said he was taking it to be mended the day you had your accident. I went back home and told my grandfather that Uncle Roy had stolen my bike when nan had taken me to hospital. To say my grandfather was angry would be an understatement. He travelled over  ten miles on the bus with me that day to his son's house--my Uncle Roy. He knocked at the door and when my uncle opened it, my grandfather said "isn't it bad enough that you stole from us before? now you have taken not only Jim's prized bike but my love for you. So give the bike back to Jim so he has his ride for school."

After explaing that he had sold the bike to pay his gambling debts with not even a sorry, my grandfather said to Roy "if you ever come near the family again, I will give you the beating of your life" and with that we left. It would be two years before he showed up again at our house.