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16th April, 2008
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Peter Bendall wrote stories for fifty five years, as a insurance against "doing something in his retirement".
He intentionally left stories unfinished and got on with the next one, since he said, "I can finish the
story later."
He suffered a stroke shortly after he reached his sixty third birthday, and entered the time of retirement early. He is sufficently recovered now to speak, but he hasn't got the heart to resume with the stories. We reproduce the stories in PDF format for you to read, © All Copyright Reserved (c) The reproduction in Film, Plays, Book (including E-book), etc., requires Permission from pbendall@gmail.com
Or bound books under the URL Stores Lulu com |
The Second book,Circus Runaway Home
Pictures from the end paper - Our Village
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Jacky and David didn't intend to join the circus. They didn't even intend to run away. Things just worked out like that!
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The Third Book, The Children of Circus Sinclair
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It's not fair, Dad! I thought it was Mother's idea for us to go away to boarding school, not yours!"
Jacky Sinclair, dressed in the ornate gold coloured costume of an Indian elephant boy, looked and sounded upset.
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You wouldn't need much more than a casual acquaintance with twelve year old Tommy Owen, to find that he was thoroughly circus mad. The reason why he was so mad would take a little longer to find, but once you did know him you would realise how little else he had to be enthusiastic about!
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A book that Precede's "Circus Runaway Home" although written long afterwards.
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(from the words of) Janine Taigr-Sinclair
"Wake up Oskar! Sinclair Brother's Circus is finished. You'll never go out on tour again. How about you selling me your tent and seating?"
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Jamie Sinclair sat at the cleared dinner table with his cousins, Carlotta and Jessica.
The three children stared miserably out of the window of the circus caravan at the pouring rain, which had been making deep pools across the muddy meadow since before they arrived this morning.
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The family at the big old Manor House on the Thetford Road was splitting up! Nobody had really believed it was possible but it had happened. Tomorrow was the day when Mr and Mrs Waterson were going their separate ways.
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The tall handsome young man looked extremely lonely as he stood at the top of the open windswept field, facing down the empty cart track. Twenty year old David Sinclair had waited at the open gate of the circus winter quarters on this cold March morning and had watched until the last of the blue and yellow circus vehicles disappeared round the corner into the road at the bottom of their bumpy mud track.
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Tall, and attractive, dark haired and always smiling, Roberta Constantine was waiting for her ten year old twins to come home from their school, which was barely a half hour walk away from home. Today was a late Friday afternoon and one of those really miserable mid January days that make you wonder if the winter will ever end.
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The early June sun was hot and the cool clear water of the little lake looked inviting to tall thin ten year old Alan and to Sally, his still rather chunky eight year old sister. They walked slowly down the green meadow from the old thatched cottage above the sunken lane.
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- and Fenland Rivers
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The Plough Inn at Fen Ditton is at the bottom end of the little fenland village. You get off the double decker bus from Cambridge at the crossroads on the through road, and walk down the side road that's on the side where you got off.
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a canal tale. A trip to Aylesbury
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Usually, when somebody is seventeen, and more than a trifle big-headed, a good friend will make the effort and tell them about it before it's too late to change their ways. I fear that, at that age, I was more than a little conceited.
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Brown haired, green eyed, Peter Westley wasn't quite eleven years old. He was quite tall for his age and looked a lot older, although he still had the sort of build that polite people call 'puppy fat'. His parents had often said that he was certain to grow into a handsome young man, at least that was what his mother had always told him and he was happy to believe her.
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Lance - a short story.
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Lance was fey. That was the only explanation, although he hadn't understood the word as a child.
"You have to have this power. It came to you from your great grandmother,"
- Continued in .pdf Fomat. |
A Teddies Christmas
Published in a German Version in "Teddy & Co", Christmas special, "Sonderheft 1/97."
- English Version in .pdf Fomat.
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