Grantly - 1. Grant Chapter 1

I have had a very unusual life, which started from the moment I was born and named Sebastian Mitchell Amos Grantly in Douglas, on the Isle of Man, UK. Things dramatically changed when just before Christmas and at nearly six years old, my mother and I flew to Hobart, Tasmania, Australia, where my name officially became Mitchell Amos Grant, at first, I had no idea why.

Mum and I moved into a 4-bedroom, study & 2-bathroom house located on 5.73 acres of land, in the locality of Howden, which includes several sheds, and a 2-bedroom guest cottage, with the town of Blackmans Bay located just 7 kilometres to the north-east, and just 6 ½ km’s down the road from her brother’s family hotel business.

Uncle James and Aunt Suzanne, own a Mediterranean-styled hotel located at North-West Bay between Margate and Howden, but they live on a 4-acre property just 1 ½ kilometres closer to us. They have two children, Patricia and Tobias who are two years apart in age, with Patricia the oldest being two years younger than myself.

It was now late January and the middle of summer in Australia, much hotter than summers that I have experienced in my home country of Isle of Man, which has average temperatures of around 28 degrees Celsius in the summer there. We spent a few days getting settled into our new home, which included two evenings at Uncle James's and Aunt Suzanne's place for dinner.

After the first few days, I was left in their care during the day for two days, while Mum had some business to attend to in Huntingfield, which is just a short 3-km drive to where I will be attending school and I got to know my younger cousins a little better, even though they are still quite young.

Since a very young age, I have been fluent in the Manx Gaelic language, as well as English, even though Mum does not speak it very well, so it was only when Dad was home or I was with my play friends that I spoke that language, and now that I am in Australia, I have no one to speak to in Manx, only in English, but when Dad telephoned and wanted to speak to me, he always spoke to me in Manx, which I was happy about, even though I missed him terribly.

It had been explained to me that my parents no longer wanted to live together any more, and this is why Mum and I have travelled to Tasmania, Australia, as this is where Mum was born and grew up, in a small community called Longley, which is not far from where we are now, and where Mum said she would take me to see where she grew up once I had settled in well at our new home and my new school, which is a Christian College, which goes from Early Learning through to Senior High School.

Christmas was a whole new experience for me, with no snow or cold weather to enjoy, instead, we had very hot days, with one good thing, out of the day, was speaking to my father on the telephone for a good half an hour in Manx, just after lunch our time, which was just after breakfast for Dad.

When my first day of school arrived, dressed in a blue summer uniform, which included a wide-brim hat, I was very nervous and worried that I would not fit into this school in a new country, so far away from where I spent my first 4 ½ years, as we all gathered for assembly first, and this is when I met my classmates for the first time.

After assembly, we were led to our main classroom, where we have most of our classes, which are six subjects, plus we have creative arts, music, languages and physical education as well. I had been instructed most strongly by my father before leaving the Isle of Man and by my mother leading up to my first day at school, not to speak about exactly where I was born, and I was not to speak Manx at all to anyone.

Thanks to my early learning classes, which I have been attending for two years, I am way ahead in regards to speaking and writing English and Manx, counting numbers and basic mathematics, as well as European Geography as our family had made at least two trips during holidays each year since I was one year old, not that I can remember much of it, but I do know that I have been to France, Switzerland and Italy, so I know some basic French from travelling.

I quickly became friends with two of my classmates, Nicholas Delaunday, whose family come from Switzerland, close to the French border. and Simon Pinguet, whose family is originally from Belgium, but Simon mostly grew up in the Indian Ocean nation of Seychelles, we drifted together mainly because we can all speak French, and I learnt that both of their fathers work for their home Consulates in Hobart.

I explained to my new friends that my parents no longer live together, with my father living somewhere in Europe, where he is from, while my mother is from Tasmania, Australia, and that is why we are living here, as we have relatives that live close by too.

I soon discovered that I would be learning the Indonesian language, as part of the school requirements, and I had chosen Music instead of Art for my added subject, as I had begun learning to play the piano before leaving my home on the Isle of Man, which is a lot grander than where we live now.

The home I grew up in, is a lot different than the Georgian-style mansion, that Dad lives in now, which has four very large bedrooms, with three bathrooms on the upper floor, while on the ground floor, there are many reception rooms, plus a two-bedroom guest cottage, a tennis court, an indoor swimming pool, horse stables and indoor equestrian centre, and amazing gardens, all located on 19 acres of land.

I first learnt to ride a pony at the age of two, and that is one thing that I would miss the most now that I am in Australia, I have tried asking Mum if I can have a horse to ride, but the answer has always been no, maybe when I am a bit older. I was talking to Dad every 2^nd Saturday evening, before I went to bed, always talking in Manx, and we usually chatted for a good half an hour each time, which allowed me to continue to speak Manx fluently.

In mid-April during the Autumn holidays, as a treat for settling into my new school and doing well in my studies, Mum took me on a trip to New Zealand, which was a wonderful experience, in a country that is just as beautiful as my home country of Isle of Man. We flew to Queenstown on the same day that we arrived in Auckland, where we began our twelve-day holiday, which included a ride on the Tranzalpine train and a ferry ride across the Cook Strait, that separates the two islands of New Zealand.

I continued to do well in school during term two, and in early July, just one week before the start of the midyear Winter school holidays, “Son, I am taking you to London, so you can spend some time with your father for the two-week holidays. I will put you on the flight to Douglas, but I will be remaining in London, and I will see you again when I collect you at the airport on the way back,” Mum announced to me, which I was thrilled to hear.

We would be leaving early on Saturday morning, so we would be travelling up to Hobart on Friday afternoon to spend a night in a hotel there. Our first flight would be from Hobart to Sydney with a 2 ½ hour layover, before flying to Perth, arriving in the early afternoon, and we would have a five-hour layover there before boarding our direct flight to London, arriving at 5 am local time, and from there we travel for an hour by train to London City Airport, for our last flight from London City to Douglas, leaving at 2 pm.

“It is important, that you say nothing to my friends about where we will be going during the school holidays,” Mum said to me over the last week of the school term. When I finished the last day of school for the term and arrived home, I had to change out of my uniform and place it in the wash basket, and I was told to pack my backpack with whatever games and books I wanted to take with me for the long trip overseas before we headed for Hobart, with Mum having already loaded up all of our suitcases in the car before I arrived home.

When we finally did arrive in London, after 23 hours since leaving Hobart, I was very tired, as we arrived at a house in Kensington, where Mum is staying, and remaining during my two weeks on the Isle of Man and Mum would see me off at London City Airport later today, and Dad would collect me from the Rolandsway Airport at the other end.

I had a short sleep for a few hours in one of the many spare rooms in Dad’s new and large four-level modern home, even though I did manage to sleep on the long flight since we travelled in Business Class the whole way, which was much better than the flight we made to Australia late last year, where we were in Premium Economy.

After my sleep, I explored the house, and I was quite surprised at what I found. On the first floor where I had my sleep, there is a lift as well as four bedrooms and two bathrooms at one end, with Mum occupying a bedroom on the other side of the hall from me, and at the other end, there is a suite with a sitting room, bedroom, and bathroom. Up on the second floor, there is the master suite, with a dressing room, bathroom, and entry foyer. Going down to the ground floor, I found a reception room, study, bathroom, the garage, and out the back is a large garden.

On the lower ground floor, I found a dining room, kitchen, living room, gym and an indoor swimming pool. “Hello young man, you must be Master Sebastian Grantly, I am Catherine, housekeeper and cook for Mr Grantly and his family,” I voice said from behind me, and as I turned, I saw a woman aged in her fifties standing at a door.

“Yes, I am Sebastian, and I am just exploring this house. Did you say you work for my father?” I responded. “That is correct, this is his townhouse when he or any of his family need to stay in the city. Behind me is the scullery, access to the lift and my living quarters. From the door that you came through, just around from the stairs, there is a sauna, bathroom, and a plant room for the pool. My husband, Henry is out in the garden somewhere now,” Catherine replied.

I went and explored the gardens and met Henry, who loved to chat about the garden, which is quite spectacular, later in the day, Mum took me by car to the City Airport, to catch my flight over to the Isle of Man. When I arrived home at Santon, after a twelve-minute ride on the steam train which I had always enjoyed, the first thing I did was go to the stables to see my pony, who was very happy to see me as I took her for a short ride out into the paddocks, which made me very happy to be riding again, and I took her out for a ride twice a day for the rest of my stay at home.

Dad also took me out on a steam train ride to Port Erin on the south coast, where we spent some time at the beach since it’s late Spring here now. We also spent a weekend at Port St Mary, where Dad owns a 31-metre luxury sailing yacht that lives there, and I had already been on it several times and always enjoyed falling asleep to the sound of the waves lapping against the yacht. On calm days, along with my Great Aunt Sophia, and a crew of two, we would sail down to the smaller island, known as the Calf on Man.

For the return journey back to Australia, I arrived in London on the late afternoon flight, where Mum collected me, and we stayed overnight at the apartment in Kensington before we boarded a late morning direct flight to Perth, Western Australia, where once again, I was able to get some sleep on this flight as we were in Business Class. We only had a short three-hour stop in Perth, before boarding our next flight to Sydney, where we stayed at a hotel for the night, before boarding our last flight to Hobart in the morning, arriving just before lunchtime.

Although it was a long flight there and back, I enjoyed my time back home in Santon on the Isle of Man, especially with my regular rides on my pony, and the day trips that Dad would take me on. Dad informed me that I would be making this trip every year, and maybe when I am a bit older, I could spend the Australian Summer holidays, including Christmas, there as well.

A year later on my second trip back home, Dad suggested that we sell my pony, as she wasn’t getting enough attention, with me being away, and I was growing so fast, that I would soon be too big for her, so sadly I agreed to let Dad sell her to a good home, and Dad would arrange for me to join a local Pony and Horse club, where I can ride when I am home.

We spent three days at the townhouse in London, as Dad had business to attend to, and Aunt Sophia wanted to do some shopping, which was fine with me, as I just relaxed in the garden, swam in the heated pool, or read a book. While in the city, we went for walks in nearby Holland Park, and the Kensington Palace Gardens, which are also close by but in the opposite direction.

On my third trip back home, where I was now eight years old, I was surprised when we saw Dad and Great Aunt Sophia waiting for our arrival at Heathrow Airport. While Mum had plans to travel to Scotland this year, Dad informed me that we would be travelling to France, Monaco, Italy, and Switzerland for our two-week holiday, and thanks to my two schoolmates, I was now very fluent in the French Language, so I had no problems talking to anyone while we were in southern Europe.

Dad was aware that I was studying Indonesian at school, but he had no idea that I had become so fluent in French, which surprised him a lot, while Aunt Sophia proudly said that she knew that I would become a brilliant businessman in the future. We had a wonderful time travelling around Southern Europe, starting from Paris, where we spent two days looking around, we travelled by train for 2 ½ hours to Bordeaux, where we spent one day exploring the area.

From there we boarded a train to Montpellier, via Narbonne, where we would change trains, and now we were in the far South of France, on the Mediterranean, and it was magnificent to see it. After a day there we continued by train for 2 ½ hours to Marseille, where we would be spending two full days exploring the area, before boarding a huge 59-metre-long chartered motor yacht, named Crazy Lobster for a cruise along the Mediterranean coast. Sailing to Saint Topez which would take us about seven hours, is where we will stop overnight stop, before continuing to Monaco, which is another four hours of sailing.