Page 19 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure

As the soft meat melted on his tongue, Atticus closed his eyes and thought he’d never tasted anything so delicious. Next, Cheryl spooned spicy chorizo onto his plate. The peppery sausage had a fiery flavour that made his eyes water. ‘By heck, that’s got a kick!’ he gasped.

When the jug of sangria was empty and the tapas dishes were clean, Cheryl sat back and rubbed her tummy. ‘I feel better for that,’ she said. ‘Now, before shopping, should we finish with a coffee?’

‘Cracking idea,’ Ruby said as a server approached the table. ‘Tres cafés Belmonte, por favor,’ she said.

Atticus wondered what Ruby had ordered. Jake hadn’t included more than a café con leche in his list of essential Spanish phrases. He was intrigued when a small glass cup, with a layer of creamy condensed milk at the bottom and topped with strong coffee, was placed before him.

‘Get your laughing gear around this,’ Cheryl said. ‘It will set you up for your shopping expedition.’

Atticus took a swig of the coffee and almost choked as a considerable measure of brandy hit the back of his throat. But as a sweet hit filtered through the shot of espresso, he licked his lips. The café Belmonte was delicious!

‘Fancy another?’ Ruby smiled.

‘Why not…’

Atticus sighed with pleasure as his hand gently stroked the top of Ness’s head.

Feeling mellow from the brandy, he felt like time had suddenly slowed.

Sitting here in the sunshine, listening to music, and experiencing new tastes, he could hardly believe that he’d only been in Spain for three days.

Despite the heat, Atticus felt like he’d been wrapped in a cosy blanket on a chilly winter evening and was grateful for the simple pleasure of good company with two new friends.

Suddenly, Cheryl stood. ‘Come on, cowboy,’ she said. ‘We need to source some bargains before the market shuts up for the day.’

Atticus settled the bill, and with Ness pulling ahead, he found himself linked by Cheryl and Ruby. ‘Lead on,’ he replied, placing his hat on his head. ‘I am entirely in your capable hands.’

At Barn Hill Farm, Jake was fed up. Saturday was stretching out like the longest day ever, and with two more days of being grounded, his bedroom walls felt like they were closing in on him.

At least he’d been able to go to school during the week, but as soon as he got off the bus and arrived home, Mungo had been at the door waiting for him.

‘Bedroom,’ his dad commanded and pointed towards the stairs.

Dragging his rucksack and cursing under his breath, Jake stomped off to his room.

‘Why do I have to have the most unreasonable parent in the world?’ he grumbled and threw himself down on his bed.

He’d only been trying to help his grandad.

If his dad couldn’t see that things were suddenly looking up for Atticus because of his and Arthur’s help, then his dad was a miserable old git who didn’t deserve Jake as a son.

Jake sat at his desk and stared out of the window .

He could see the farm shop and café, where weekend visitors were milling around.

Over at the campsite, there wasn’t an empty pitch, and Jake yearned to be out on the Little Grey Fergie, servicing the site and helping new campers settle in or assisting anyone who needed a hand.

He wondered what his grandad was up to and if campsites in Spain lived up to their reputation.

Did Solma Vacaciones really have the amazing swimming pools he’d viewed on the website, and was it really so close to a long, sandy beach?

Swivelling in his chair, Jake turned to his laptop, his fingers poised over the keyboard.

He hadn’t checked the @thetravellinggrandad account on Instagram that day.

Atticus’s previous photos of his journey and the giant bulls had been interesting, but today, Jake hoped there might be something showing the campsite.

Opening the account, Jake scanned the page.

At first, his expression remained neutral as he realised there were scores more images to view.

But as the content of the photos came into focus, Jake’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows arched as he leaned in closer to absorb every pixelated detail.

Without realising he was smiling, Jake suddenly began to laugh.

‘Oh, Grandad,’ he giggled and fist-bumped the air.

Reaching for his phone, Jake dialled Uncle Arthur’s number.

‘'Ello?’ Arthur answered. ‘Who is this?’

‘It’s me, Uncle Arthur,’ Jake said excitedly. ‘Who else would be calling your mobile?’

‘Well, I’m certain Julia Roberts has been trying to get through; she’s gagging to have an affair with me.’

‘Julia who?’ Jake was puzzled.

‘Never mind, lad,’ Arthur sighed. ‘Have you had word from abroad?’

‘Nothing from Grandad, but have you seen his Instagram account today?’

‘I haven’t. In truth, I’m in the pub.’

‘Uncle Arthur, you’ve never seen anything like it!’ Jake gasped, keen to share his newfound knowledge. ‘Grandad is having a blast.’

‘Eh? What do you mean?’

‘He’s been partying, and there are all sorts of people in the photos, and…’ Jake trailed off as his eyes fell on an image of a person covered in tattoos, linking her arm with Atticus. ‘Wow…’ Jake breathed. ‘Just look at those piercings…’

‘Piercings? Atticus has got piercings?’ Arthur sounded confused.

‘Crikey!’ Jake exclaimed. ‘These tattoos look like a zoo!’

‘He’s had a zoo tattoo?’ Arthur was aghast.

‘No… Listen.’ Jake shook his head, remembering Arthur’s old Nokia, despite urging him to upgrade to a smartphone.

‘You need to go home to your computer. Get on to the Instagram account I set up for you and see what he’s up to and…

’ Jake suddenly stopped. His jaw dropped, and he sat back, his eyes falling on the number of Atticus’s followers.

‘What’s up? Are you there?’ Arthur sounded anxious.

‘Bloody hell…’ Jake breathed .

‘Now, you know you shouldn’t swear,’ Arthur remarked.

‘Grandad has nearly five thousand followers!’ Jake gasped.

‘Eh? I thought only you and I followed him?’

‘You’re as bad as Grandad,’ Jake said, exasperated. ‘When you use hashtags, it doesn’t give you exclusivity; it allows people to search for that hashtag, and if they like what they see, they’ll start following the account.’

‘Oh, is that so?’

‘Yes. I knew Grandad didn’t understand,’ Jake sighed. ‘He thinks only you and I will see the photos.’

‘Do you mean he’s going global?’ The light was slowly dawning in the back room of The Black Bull’s snug.

‘I’ll say,’ Jake giggled. ‘The Travelling Grandad is becoming an internet sensation.’ Atticus’s hashtags had created visibility, and Jake scrutinised the descriptions. ‘He’s used all these: #party #tattoos #laterlife #travel #upallnight #sangria #piercings. ’

Jake laughed and smiled again as he saw #VWCamper and #WinnietheWestie – even his cousin Maeve had reshared the images and started to follow the account. The surprise he’d felt calmed into joy as Jake devoured comments from the new followers.

‘Living your best life!’ @oldbeforemytime

‘This boomer knows best!’ @BoomersAreBest

‘Grandpa’s snaps are hotter than the sun.’ @sweet73

‘This is how retirement is really done!’ @69andholding

‘Age is just a number!’ @ageisjustanumber100

‘Warning: This influencer may cause severe envy.’ @IwishIWasYou

‘Influencer?’ Jake stared at the messages. ‘Grandad is a hero!’ He began to laugh again. His grandfather, @thetravellinggrandad, had achieved in forty-eight hours something Maeve had spent the last two years trying to accomplish.

‘Are you still there?’ Arthur asked.

‘Yes, sorry, but I’m going to go because I want to call Aunty Mary,’ Jake said.

‘Do we need to call your Grandad?’

Jake could hear Arthur gulp the last of his pint.

‘No, I don’t think so. It’s doubtful that he’ll even answer his phone.’

‘Why is that?’ Arthur sounded curious.

‘By the look of things, he’s having far too much fun.’