Cyclist

A Longer War 30

CHAPTER 30
It started quietly, but it gathered speed as it continued. Bob didn’t say anything, but I caught little hints in the pubs and when I visited his place. The odd snide remark, almost always from the younger drinkers; the bit of broken glass he’d missed picking up from his carpet. It was harder to miss the dog shit smeared over his street door, though. His float was kept at the dairy overnight, so they couldn’t get at it, but I soon realised that it was a steady and concerted campaign.

Sisters 42

CHAPTER 42
Now, that was a wedding. The only tradition not observed seemed to be that of a fight among the guests, but I could most definitely live without that. My Uncle Arwel and his Boy had even had their hair cut! The girls looked gorgeous, and so did my wife, Steve was both touching and funny in his best man’s speech, and whoever came up with the idea of putting him in a kilt was inspired. The vicar, oddly, in an Anglican church, was a Roman Catholic, but he was sharp, and funny, and his own humour meshed well with that of Steve.

Black dog

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The black dog, for those who are unaware, was Churchill's term for depression. Well, it's standing next to me at the moment. Work problems are somewhat awful right now, and getting worse, and together with the PTSD and GID I am not doing very well. Not cycling, not even going out the front door except for work and to get food.

Writing has taken a back seat, as you may have noticed. The dog has me by the throat and won't let go. Normal service may or may not be resumed at some point.

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Sweat and Tears

I have decided to put this onto Kindle, with some edits and a copious afterword. The cover will take time to prepare, and it will be, well, relevant. The book is atypical of my stuff in one way, but in its emphasis on friendship, family and love, it is absolutely one of mine.

I worried a bit about being sued by the estate of a certain Dr Money, so I took legal advice. ESAD.

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Sisters 40

CHAPTER 40
Sarah had mentioned the others like her that she had come across, and I had been doing my own digging for any info, good or bad, on one of them. She was from somewhere over our neck of the woods, which meant there was a risk of ‘history’ with some of the other wedding guests, and I rather preferred relaxing outside a few beers rather than dealing with their effects on idiots.

Landscapes

I said some time ago that I had never seen 'The Princess Bride', so a lot of in-jokes escaped me. It was shown on UK television recently, so I caught up with it on the I-Player internet system. I enjoyed it... but it was largely filmed on familiar ground.

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Sisters 38

CHAPTER 38
Events continued to take their own course in another station, as I was definitely being kept well clear of any involvement in the case, and more importantly away from any possible perception of involvement. I got hints, though, and as the trial was approaching I was ‘asked’ to attend an interview with the IPCC, the body that oversees complaints against us. If I had realised what was to happen only a week after my interview, I would have found it very difficult to answer their questions with a straight face.

Becoming Julie

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Becoming Julie: My incredible journey by Julie Clarke. I have left out a link so that readers can use this site's own one.

I was bored, and so I went to Amazon and put in the search term 'transsexual', to be given the usual deluge of crap ranging from p0rn to Janice bloody Raymond. In the middle was this book.

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A Longer War 24

CHAPTER 24
Somebody was holding me as I came tumbling out of the nightmare, sat bolt upright in bed feeling sweat chilling my skin. They were wearing something in flannel, and to my embarrassment I realised it was Beattie.

“Hush now, sir. Hush. Bad dream, that’s all it was. Safe now”

I forced myself to stop trembling somehow, and turned to look her in the face, and even in the darkness I could see the concern written there.

“Sorry, Miss”

Sisters 37

CHAPTER 37
I left them to their chat, for there was nothing I could meaningfully add. I was still undecided about Joe Evans but after all I had been given sight of his witness statement. I had seen Steve in a very different light after that, and I knew that I was never going to dig any deeper. Leave that particular case deep frozen, Lainey.

Siân was off at the weekend, which chimed with my own self-planned working roster, and she was insistent.

Sisters 35

CHAPTER 35
I was in work the next day, but in my own HQ instead of Cardiff. It felt strange, after so long in civvies, but the uniform was the thing that had helped me hold things together when life had thrown shit at me. That dreadful funeral, the confrontation with Mam and Dad, the ritual had helped me cope. Siân was on a stupidly early start, so I had to eat breakfast alone. I hated early turns, so as I was now effectively supernumerary, I had treated myself to a nine o’clock start.

Sisters 34

CHAPTER 34
Back to the nick in a convoy of marked and unmarked vehicles, recovery on the way to pick up the Transit for forensics, Blake on the radio to organise a tow for the other two vehicles. I called the radio room on my mobile.

“Hi Jan, Inspector Powell here. Can you call the duty Super out? I’ll need a word. And the on-call CID Inspector”

“Soon as I hang up, Ma’am. That boy going to be OK? We were getting a bit edge-of-seat here, innit”

Poppies

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I took a girl friend today to see the poppies.

For those who don't know, the veterans in this country set up a charity called the British Legion, who do their best to look after the wreckage left by war, whether it involves the veterans themselves or their families. Each year, as Remembrance Sunday/Armistice Day approaches, there is the poppy appeal. Paper or enamel poppy badges are sold to raise money for the charity.

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A Longer War 21

CHAPTER 21
I was in the bottom of some new-style cabin cruiser, trying to see if it was the seal around the shaft that was leaking or whether it was a warped hull, and I heard him call my name.

“Hang on, Ern! Just got to get this fastened back on!”

I took most of the dirt off my hands with a rag as I stepped ashore.

“Won’t give you my hand, pal. Covered in oil and grease”

Theft

So there I am, working through a twelve hour night shift which is actually thirteen hours due to the end of Summer Time, and I get bored enough to stick my name into that search engine and see if anyone else has said anything about my books. They have.

Specifically, about 'Viewpoints' and 'Cider Without Roses'. What they have said, via Wordpress, is "Don't bother giving her any money, just download this pdf we've made"

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A Longer War 20

CHAPTER 20
That night was the start of so much more than a ride in the back of a bread van. Once Tricia and I had broken the ice, it seemed as if her personality had expanded. The films we went to see in the cinema were in colour, more often than not, and so was she. Courting back then was different from what it would become only fifteen to twenty years later, and also from what it had been during the war. It wasn’t the formal dance it had been for Mam and Dad, but it wasn’t a headlong dive into intimacy.

A Longer War 19

CHAPTER 19
I gave my hair a last quick comb, and buffed up the toe caps of my shoes on the backs of my trousers. Why had I bought flowers? They weren’t good ones, but they weren’t roses. Mam had said that flowers all said things, all had different messages and places and times they were each right for, and roses were making a very clear statement best not said right at the start. It wasn’t really the start, of course, for we had been dancing the blushing two-step for months. Mithering, her mam had called it. Sod it, couldn’t I just be back outside that bloody airfield again?

Sisters 32

CHAPTER 32
It wasn’t that bad a drive back, especially as Dad spent most of it asleep. He can be more than a little helpful with advice about my driving at times, the satnav being replaced by the frontseatnav, and his snores were more easily ignored. It is still a bloody long way, though, but as they had left the parental car at our house I didn’t need to make it interminable by going all the way out to Abergwaun. I did the ritual of the milk in the last petrol station before home, and once in Siân did the dance of the kettle.

Sisters 31

CHAPTER 31
The drive over to the Channel coast was getting familiar now, but this time we had our parents with us. Our parents, not Siân’s, as that would have been a step so excessive I’d have lost control. I would never forgive her for what she had said and done, but I had agreed with my wife that we had to come to some sort of understanding. Our Mam and Dad, though, needed no such adjustment. Somewhere near Swindon, Dad turned round to face me.

A Longer War 18

CHAPTER 18
The Ouse was low and slow, murmuring past the moorings as I laid out my tools. Somewhere overhead a lark was singing away, and there was a splash near the far bank as a vole dropped into the water. Dragonflies droned past, and when I looked down past the rail I saw a pair of dead eyes fixed on mine as a pike hung almost motionless, drifting slowly downstream as it waited for something to kill.

Sisters 28

CHAPTER 28
Siân was insistent that night.

“Just because one of them is called Evans it means nothing! How common is that name, especially round here?”

I pushed my empty plate away. “And how many pies has that bastard family got fingers in? No. I know you’re right, but it would be so, so nice to get another of the bastards nailed. That family should never have been allowed to breathe never mind breed”

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