“Hello. Can you hear me?” asked the young woman.

“Uhhhh,” moaned the figure lying on the ground.

“Lets get you up. You can’t stay here in the wet.”

It had been raining heavily for several hours and there were deep puddles everywhere.

She helped the Woman to sit up. Then she saw the bleeding. It was coming from a nasty gash on the side of the woman’s head.

My journey back to Skipton was not the one that I’d expected when Mary dropped me at the station that morning. I felt an inner calmness and that was strange to me. I’d been excited about getting those dresses made for me but after the incident in the Cathedral, it was as if they didn’t matter any more.

Mary met me at the station. In an instant she noticed that I was different.

“Did Vic give you the tour?”

I nodded.

“It got to you didn’t it?”

“Yes it did. As much as I didn’t want it to, it did.”

Mary laughed.

Mary took me under her wing and eased me into Parish Life once she had helped me create a believable back story for my life. We needed a story that had to stand up under the close scrutiny of her parishioners. It didn’t take me long to realise that Mary was an expert at that. I sat back and marvelled at how she tied things together so that were no loose ends.

Then there was the subject of my clothes. Mary took one look at the few I had in my case and laughed her head off.

“Those will never do for the parish ladies,” she commented.

As the dawn chorus broke and with a heavy heart, I wrote my goodbye letter to Liam.

Dear Liam,

Jess

The Ugly Duckling

There once was an ugly duckling
With feathers all stubby and brown
And the other birds said in so many words
Get out of town
Get out, get out, get out of town

Bobby Mason knew that he was in trouble as soon as he walked into the School Playground.
A reception party was waiting for him. At least 10 other boys were lined up with their arms crossed blocking his entry to the school.

One of the worst things about travelling by Air these days, well apart from the hassle of seemingly endless security before you even get on the aircraft, is standing at the baggage carousel looking expectantly at the seemingly endless stream of bags arriving in the hope that yours was actually put on the flight in the first place. As the last bags appear you have that heart rending moment when you realise that yours is not there.

How, in these days the sophisticated computer systems that are used by the airports and airlines, can it be that about one in a million bags go missing.

Doesn’t the airline industry keep promising us that errant bags are a thing of the past. Yeah right.

Decisions-Decisions 4

Eric made the call to his son from the Managers office. It didn’t take long. When he returned he said,

“John will meet us on Thursday at 10. The problem is that we have to go to see him in Derby. That journey will need an early start.”

He was right. Living in the back of beyond has one huge disadvantage in that it takes ages to get nowhere fast. The roads in the region are crap. Full of potholes and often covered in mud from farm traffic.

I opened my handbag and pulled out the train timetable that I’d used for my trip to Sheffield before Christmas.

It was fast approaching Christmas and the office manager, Alex was forever pestering me about who I’d be bringing to the Company Christmas Party the weekend before Christmas.

Let me introduce myself, my name is Stewart Briggs or Stewie to my very few friends. I’m 26 going on 27 and I’m a sort of ‘Estate Agent’. Hold on. Don’t stop reading. Not all of us are boring and only think about selling houses.

I manage the repairs and maintenance of the properties that are let through us. I couldn’t sell a house even if my life depended upon it but I seemed to be able to get repairs done to a both a standard and a cost that keeps everyone happy.

Diane Bradley was always first.
First for wear a Bra in Junior School.
First to get suspended for wearing too much make-up.
First to get suspended for wearing too high heels to school.
First to get suspended for wearing skirts that were almost indecently short AND stockings.
First to get her Nose Pierced.

The Black Cab

The lift doors opened and two tall slim ladies emerged into the Hotel Lobby. They caught the sight of themselves in the mirror and they smiled at each other. Then as if they owned the place, they walked directly into the bar that adjoined the Michelin 3* restaurant that the hotel boasted. The Maître D asked,

“Are you dining with us tonight ladies?”

“Yes, yes we are,” said one of them.

I was sitting at my desk going through some paperwork when the door to the office opened and in walked a man in a Police Inspectors uniform.

“Sergeant Dobbs, I understand that you know the Gibbs family?”

“Yes Sir. I guess you don’t know that Nick is, sorry was my adopted brother. He changed his name back to his original one when he met his birth parents a few years ago.”

The officer sat down with a sigh.

“I’m going to need you to go and break the bad news to Mrs Gibbs. It will be better coming from you.”

My phone was ringing. From the caller ID I could see that it was my dear Mother. It was just after seven in the morning on Christmas Eve and the last thing I wanted to do at that particular moment was speak to her. I was doing very well in my life without her trying to set me up with every available and not so available women she could find in her extensive social circles. There was a reason that I’d always fobbed them off and she’d find out why soon enough.

“Mr Charlton, unless you are prepared to tell me your troubles I really see no point in us continuing these sessions. Well?”

I’m Paul Charlton and I’m sitting ‘in the Psychiatrists Chair’. I was here because I'd lost it in a very big way and had a breakdown. That breakdown had led to the end of my marriage and thence to me becoming homeless and virtually penniless. Now three years later I was trying to rebuild my life but one huge thing was getting in the way. That was my secret.

I didn’t reply straight away. That didn’t matter to Dr Yacub Pakker, my Psychiatrist.

It was just before 9pm on a cold blustery early Februrary night. A Friday night to be exact.

Two days after Christmas and I was starting to get bored. Another week before I had to return to work and I didn’t have anything to do.

All the Christmas Day detritus was put away on the 26th. My visitors left the same day as well and now the place is quiet.

In the Psychiatrists Chair -2 (Autumn 1968)

“Come on in John and take a seat.”

The client didn’t say anything. He was a teenager and was still dressed in his school uniform. The look on his face said that he didn't want to be here.