Matty and Bill sat in silence, staring at each other, excitement building.
Nanny Dove laughed slightly.
"Ise tinks youse freaked dem out a bit dere Poppy."
Issac stared down at Nanny Dove.
"When did you lose the ability to speak properly, Matilda?"
"Been a long time since youse been 'ere Poppy. Tings 'ave changed."
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"Obviously. But I didn't think future generations would develop a new language."
"Wese calls it Newfinese."
Issac shook his head and turned his attention back to Matty and Bill.
"So, you two are part of the new generation of Tuckamore Bay?"
Matty nodded as she stood.
"We are."
"Thankfully you have managed to carry on the King's English."
He looked at Nanny Dove.
"Unlike others."
Nanny Dove grunted.
"So, what year be this?"
"Twenty twenty," Matty informed him.
Issac Dove looked confused.
"Two thousand and twenty, ah ...."
Matty thought for a second.
"What do I call you?"
"Well, you could cal me great-great-great-great-great Grandfather or, like Matilda, just call me Poppy Dove."
Matty smiled.
"Poppy Dove would be great."
"So," Issac sighed, "it has been a long time since I walked this earth."
"It has Sir. I guess so much has changed that it must seem foreign to you," Bill suggested.
YOU ARE READING
Tuckamore Bay
General FictionMatty Dove had 18 months to try and find a buyer for her late grandmother's lighthouse. A buyer who, she hoped, would not only buy the lighthouse, but love the village so much that they would invest time and money into saving the community. In 18 mo...
