Misjudged

Whistling in tune to the latest Ed Sheeran song on his iPod, Darren skidded round a couple, who were taking their time to select some cheese, so he could grab some milk from the next shelf. “Watch it,” the male half of the couple said, shaking his head when he realised Darren was just a kid. “Kids,” he continued muttering. Darren said he was sorry but the man just glared at him. Darren picked up a carton of milk and quickly moved on. Clinking the coins that were rolling around in his pocket Darren detected that he had enough money for four pints of milk, two more than his mother had asked for but he knew it would be used and would save his mother a trip back the next day, so he went back and replaced the smaller carton with a larger one.

In the checkout queue Darren was tapping his foot in time to his music as he waited for the old girl in front to pay for her shopping it seemed he was again annoying the bloke he’d nearly ran into earlier. “Impatient little so and so,” he mumbled to his wife not too subtly as they stood behind him. Darren ignored him this time, not wanting to antagonise anyone but he refused to stop tapping his foot as he turned up his music another notch. The little old dear in front was still counting out her change and the couple behind moved to another aisle in the hope of being served quicker. “Hypocrite,” Darren thought as his iPod skipped to Jessie J.

Forgetting about the couple he moved up in the queue and handed over the money from his pocket to pay for the milk. Shoving the carton into his backpack he thanked the cashier, giving her a flirtatious wink as he took his change and sauntered off. Checking his watch he noticed that he had already used up fifteen of the twenty minutes his mother had given him to do the errand. Being just eleven Darren’s mother would not ordinarily send her son out on his own but she’d had no other choice, being ill with the flu, barely being able to function and having a screaming, thirsty, three year old, with no milk in the house. After Darren had offered she had reluctantly given in and let him go. Picking up speed he was almost floored when he tripped over his shoelace just outside the automatic doors of the supermarket. Groaning he bent down to tie them up, hearing his mother’s nagging voice in his head. As he looped the strings he was distracted by some shopping, tins and fruit, rolling around up ahead and he wondered who could have lost all of that and not have noticed. Standing up he now noticed a dropped carrier bag with a distinct hole in the bottom with more shopping lying in and around the bag.

Walking closer to the dropped load Darren now saw a woman, collapsed on the floor. He rushed to her side but not before seeing how people were looking but not stopping. As he started the basic first aid training he had been given at his Cubs group he found it difficult to comprehend that grown adults would continue to walk past like there was nothing they could do. Using his training he established that she was unconscious but breathing. A bang to the head as she had fallen had caused her to be knocked out. Ignoring the ignorant passers-by, he pulled out his mobile phone and called the emergency services. The operator asked him what service he required and he told them. As he waited he pulled his hat out of his pocket and used it to apply pressure to the wound the lady had received when she had fallen. Within seconds he was explaining to a man at the end of the phone what he thought had happened and what he thought was wrong. He sounded so grown up that no-one asked him his age and just told him he was doing a great job and paramedics would join him shortly. Hanging up he dropped his phone back into his pocket with his free hand, his other one still applying pressure to the cut on his patient’s head. His left leg had gone numb but he didn't dare move in fear of restarting the bleed that he seemed to currently have under control under his right hand.

Still no one had stopped to help or even offer assistance despite being nosy enough to slow down and take a good look. Yet he, a selfish little kid had stopped to care whilst the so called adults had walked on by.

The ambulance was finally pulling into the supermarket car park and Darren, who now had two dead legs, was grateful to see them. A young blonde got out of the driver’s seat whilst a slightly older red head got out of the back lugging a huge medical kit behind her. On seeing him crouching on the ground next to their patient both paramedics did a double take. Seeing their looks Darren just shrugged his shoulders and said, “No-one else would help her,” before looking away, afraid he would go red and embarrass himself. The women however were no longer worried about him and moved next to the woman lying on the ground. Firing questions at him as they worked he told them all he knew which wasn't actually that much. The wound, they said, was superficial and they hoped it wouldn't be long before she regained consciousness. “Keeping the pressure on that wound was clever stuff young man. Where’d you learn that?”

“Cubs,” he mumbled.

“Well young sir you showed maturity beyond your years today and looks like you saved the day along with it. This lady will be just fine. Now get yourself home and make sure you tell your parents how great you were today.” And that was it. He was dismissed. The professional had taken over and he was surplus to requirement. He picked up his backpack and broke into a run knowing his mother would now be really cross about how long he’d been.            

Boxed In

Boxes were usually useful for packing or storing or both. Staring up at me was a large brown storage box which I had laced with a measly, thin, tartan blanket that I had found earlier that day. My lovely, large brown storage box for packing or whatever was, for now, my home. It was ripped on one side but if I angled the torn side to the floor it wouldn't be a problem, I hoped. My box was littering a far corner of the multi storey car park for the town’s shopping centre. I hoped the security attendant would not find me, having spent the last few hours hiding from him before the car park closed. I tipped the box onto its broken side and slid inside, trying to create a cocoon with the blanket, but no matter how hard I tried I could not cover all of me. Fortunately at least the box just about housed me if I forced myself into a tight foetal position. Once I was as snug as was possible in these vial circumstances I felt around until I found my pocket and retrieved the orange I had managed to swipe from a skip earlier. Trying to ignore the cellulite ridden looking skin which showed how old the fruit was I peeled it and let the wrinkled strips drop to the floor of the box. It might keep a toe or two warm later, I thought to myself wryly. As I snuggled further into the box, as best as I could, I thought about the day behind me. I wondered if my quick, rash decision would come back to bite me considerably hard on the backside in the days to come. I had at the time thought I had no choice but had I?

     I’m here in my new makeshift home because I had yet again refused to leave school at the tender age of sixteen before my exams had finished and get a job, subsequently funding my father’s habit of abusing alcohol, amongst other things. Him being much more keen on pouring said substance down his throat, punching me when I couldn't replenish his stock and hitting on anything with a pulse not caring that his sixteen year old daughter, me, was witnessing his every disgusting move. Since mum had passed away any strumpet would do. Today’s argument had been like all the others, starting out because his latest stash of vodka had disappeared and his benefits with it. All his doing of course yet it was anybody’s fault but his. Being a Saturday I had been at home reading, studying for an upcoming exam but this was not good enough. I should have been out earning money. Feeling braver then normal I had said, “You’re a fine one to talk. There are plenty of jobs out there you know and once I finish school I’ll be better equipped to get one too.”

     “A little scrubber like you can clean bogs without needing the likes of these fancy exams you insist on sitting,” was his drunken response. When I ignored him the book I was turning the page of was wrenched out of my grip leaving me with one page still in my hand. Then he had launched the book at me and told me to “sod off until you come back with enough dosh for a voddie and a chippy tea,” before going back to chewing off the face of his latest blonde stick insect.

     A piece of ice brought me back to the present, causing me to shudder for more reasons than just its coldness. It had fallen into my box and I flicked it away as I tried to utilise the small blanket to warm as much of me as possible. The wind was picking up and neither the box nor the roof of the car park was doing much to shield me from its sharp wrath. It was racing round the building, showing off as it accelerated through the open gaps in the walls, screeching in mockery as it dared me to try and sleep. My teeth chattered as my body struggled to get a grip on how cold it was. I could feel the hairs on my arms standing on end as goose bumps invaded the skin, covering every available inch. Closing my eyes and edging my head further inside I tried to ignore how low the temperature felt, encouraging myself to sleep so that I no longer had convince myself this was not all a big mistake. It was a big mistake, I knew that, but so was staying, like the last time and the time before that. I got thrown out on a daily basis and usually sat on the front step until things had calmed down or some buddy or another had come round with a four pack of beers swapping those for a stint on the couch to watch some filth or other on the television. I usually got called in at that point to put the kettle on or the oven as his lordship was too lazy to do it himself. He would have got a shock tonight when I didn't answer his shouted demands. I wouldn't be missed for longer than the time it took for him to get over the fact that he would have to do something himself or go without.

     Tears stung my eyes like salt to an open wound as the horrid truth hit home once again. It was a hard concept to grasp as my family had at least always been a unit until my mother had died and then my father had fallen to his knees and never properly stood up again. Now I had to stand tall and fend for myself as any sympathy I’d had left for my father had disappeared when he’d used his anger against me once too often. Today’s attack had been mild but it took the times I got off lightly to realise how bad it could be next time. Hence my decision to leave and rather than sitting on the steps waiting for the next time to be used and abused I took off. Walking to the end of the road had quickly led to walking out of the village and before long two hours had gone by and I had managed to walk the seven and a half miles to the next town. I had never intended to walk that far but the further I walked the more I realised I didn't want to go back. I couldn't go back. Yet I had nothing with me and what about school? Wasn't that the whole point of the argument with Dad? The reason he bullied me was because I wouldn't get a job until I finished school, but if I stayed away like this I could hardly go to school could I?

     My toes were freezing. It felt like little lumps of ice were stuck to my feet. The blanket was doing nothing to warm them, partly because I was using it to warm the rest of my body but my feet only had thin pumps for cover. This was another decision that I could have thought a bit harder about if I’d been thinking at all. My stomach growled fiercely then, the orange having barely filled a hole. I hadn't eaten before that since breakfast and that had only been a piece of toast.  I tried to block out how hungry I was by listening out for sounds that might let me know if anyone was coming. I didn't want to be caught sleeping rough in a car park. I hoped I had positioned the box and settled far enough within so that anyone looking this way would just think that it was an empty box left as rubbish. To be fair there was plenty of other litter lying around. Perhaps nothing such an eyesore as a huge box but still enough to think that people left their rubbish wherever they thought they could get away with it. I wrinkled my nose as I tried to distinguish the smell of the rain over the smell of urine where someone had obviously felt the need to relieve themselves in the nearby corner. I heard the sounds of drunken laughter in the street below and the constant flow of traffic over the rain drenched roads. Despite being so late by now there were still plenty of people out and about. I tried to block all the noises out and get some sleep but the cold wind was freezing me to the bone and I felt sore and consequently I felt sorry for myself. I was uncomfortable. My legs were getting cramp and my arm had gone numb from my lying on it. Lying crouched up small was not keeping me warm and was not making it easy to sleep. If this was going to be a long term thing I would need to rethink my sleeping arrangements. A bigger blanket for a start would be good. Out in the distance the sound of a metal bar or something similar hitting the floor made me flinch. This wasn't safe. Anything could happen to me. Why did I feel that this situation was more acceptable than going home? How was it fair that my own father scared me so much I’d rather be here then there? Tears fell down my face. I missed my mum and I missed the man my father used to be. He’d always been lazy, granted, but he had turned into an angry drunk and his violent streak was out on a mission. Another thud of metal hitting concrete made me jump again and I edged further into my box hoping nothing would happen until the morning and I could take the day and the advantage of daylight to find somewhere a little better. I tucked my head under my arm and closed my eyes. The noises were still there, the wind, the traffic and the idiot insisting of kicking metal pipes about. Sleep was a far off concept but at least I was ok. For now.

    Obviously I had managed to sleep after all and was dreaming as I could smell coffee and bacon. My tummy rumbled loudly at the thought. Within seconds though I was alert and on the defensive as I heard someone say, “What’s your name love?” I retreated further into the box pretending that no one was there. I was going to be carted back to Dad’s and I’d only managed one night away from it all. Although the last few hours had been hell, going home was a worse concept to comprehend. The voice floating down to me though was kind. “Come on love, it’s just a coffee and a bacon sandwich. It’s yours if you want it. Just tell me your name.” The pull of food was too great so I edged out so I could at least see who my breakfast benefactor was. I panicked as I saw that it was the security attendant I had been hiding from the day before. I burst out of my box and jumped up onto my feet. “I’m s…sorry,” I stammered. “I’m off now.” I turned to leave but the coffee and the bacon was still staring at me. The guy was still holding it out to me. I hesitantly held out my hand and he placed the coffee in it. I reached out for the bacon sandwich with my other hand. “Carly, and thank you,” I said.

     “Lee,” he replied. “I saw you come in last night but I was on duty so I couldn't help you then. I’m sorry. Although unbeknownst to you I kept an eye on you to make sure you stayed out of harms way. I work here to earn a bit of extra dough but I also work at the YMCA and if you’ll let me I’d like to see if I can help you.” And there it was. A spark of kindness. No blame, no condescending look, no need for explanation. This man was willing to help before he knew what my deal was. Also unbeknownst to me he had seen people like me many times before and was one of the few who worked for an institution that was willing to help. I’m a lucky one. By the end of my first night I had someone who might be able to get me back onto the right track. Others, I later found out, didn't get help until their one hundredth and first night or their five hundredth and first night. And some… never got the help they deserved, because they were never asked, or simply never took it or they just never made it at all.

I wrote the above in light of a charity event that the YMCA are running which my sister is a part of. This is the Sleep Easy campaign where members of the YMCA are sleeping rough so others don't have to. This is to raise awareness of homelessness in the young. If the above means anything to you and you would like to donate then please do so at the following address: 

http://my.artezglobal.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=454640&langPref=en-CA

Hindsight

You made the sun shine even when the day was overcast.

You were always so calm, like the sea when the tide is out,

Gently lapping at the edge of the beach,

Always able to diffuse difficult altercations.

You were the heart of our family.

I wish I’d told you this when you were alive but I always thought you knew.

Living two hundred miles apart might have made us distant,

Yet on the bottom step, we spoke like no time had passed.

Your cheeky chuckle, with your dry humour,

Made for great talks on those stairs even when I was little.  

You were the heart of my childhood.

I wish I’d told you this when you were alive but I always thought you knew.

The weekends we visited were few and far between but,

Our Christmas visit was one we never missed, catching up

With tea, cakes and lots of chat and giggles

In your warm, homely living room with you in your armchair.

You were the heart of those visits.

I wish I had told you this when you were alive but I always thought you knew.

Two summers in a row I spent two weeks with you and Nan,

Following you to one or other of your many jobs.

The little clothes shop was my favourite.

You never knew this, but I tried on all the shoes in there.

You were the heart of those summers.

I wish I had told you this when you were alive but I always thought you knew.

When we weren’t together you sent letters or postcards,

Reminding us you were there, telling us your recent news.

I always wrote back with pages of words,

An excuse to write anything knowing you would read it all.

You were the heart of my teenage years.

I wish I had told you this when you were alive but I always thought you knew.

In life you were the best granddad any girl could wish for.

In death you left the best memories to remember you.

Everyone who knew you misses you.

Everyone who loves you wishes you were still here.

You were the heart of all our lives.

I wish I could tell you that now but I know you know.

The Best Worst Day

Richard was pacing. He was holed up in a room in a guest house trying to make the biggest decision of his life. He sighed heavily. Actually the decision was made it was more whether he had the courage to go ahead and do what needed to be done. Still pacing he grabbed a bottle of water off the small cubed table by the bed, uncapped it and brutally threw some back against his throat before recapping the bottle and dropping it on the bed. It landed with a satisfying thud despite the softness of the mattress. Finally standing still he picked up his tie from the back of the armchair situated under the window, pulled up his collar and put the tie into place, getting more and more frustrated as he got the two ends tangled up. Ripping it from his neck he tossed it back onto the chair and slumped down on the bed. With his head in his hands Richard decided that a tie was unnecessary for the task ahead. Since he would not be turning up as a guest he did not need to look smart.

Half a mile down the road Dawn was just about to step into a beautiful white classis Austen, provided by a friend of her father’s for the occasion, when she stopped, a sudden cold, fearful, feeling in the pit of her stomach and she turned looking wistfully up the driveway towards her parent’s house wishing she had a more honest and open relationship with them so she could tell them her reservations but she didn’t and it was too late now to back out. She was dolled up to the nines, wearing an expensive dress and jewellery all picked out by Ryan. Someone across the road called out, “Congratulations,” interrupting her thoughts and making Dawn smile weakly in thanks before ducking her head so she could get herself into the car and as she now positioned herself so her dress spilled out around her she painted a look of happiness on her face just in time for her father to get in beside her.  “Ready,” he asked her, taking hold of her hand. She nodded, unable to speak in fear of her voice breaking and giving her emotional state away.

At the church Ryan was stood at the altar with just five minutes before Dawn was due to arrive. Everything was in place. The guests were all seated and his best man was at his side. He smiled smugly. He was going to pull it off and marry the love of his life. He checked his watch and let out a sharp sigh. Four minutes. He hoped she would not let him down by being late. He had planned this day to the last second and it would not do to have anything overrun. He straightened his cravat and then he checked his watch again before turning to look towards the back of the church. He could see movement in the porch. She had arrived. Good.

Dawn took her father’s arm and together they walked up the aisle towards Ryan. Her bouquet was shaking as nerves consumed her and her father tapped her hand reassuringly. She couldn’t look at any of their guests, keeping her eyes forward yet trying not to meet Ryan’s gaze. When she reached him, her father kissed her cheek and Ryan grabbed her hand. She tried not to grimace at the tightness of his grip. Instead she smiled at him, concentrating on his handsome face so she could remember why she had fallen in love with him. If she concentrated hard enough she would be able to get through the day and then they could go back to the ways things were yesterday and before. She would find a way to be happy. As the ceremony started Ryan loosened his hold and finally returned her smile.

The vicar had barely finished his welcome when the church doors burst open and a voice behind them yelled, “Stop.” Despite Ryan trying to force her to remain facing the front she turned round to see who had shouted. Everybody behind her turned to. They were intrigued by the drama about to unfold. Her heart fizzed with emotion as she saw who stood at the back of the church yet her voice was cold as she asked, “What is it you wish to say Richard?” He seemed nervous now but managed to remain calm as he said, “Dawn, you cannot marry a man who hits you and controls you like he does.” He spat out the words and there were a few gasps from his audience but he continued. “Don’t bother denying it because I know he does. I love you Dawn and I promise I can give you a great, safe life if you’ll only let me.” And there it was. The excuse, the way out she had been looking for had just fallen in her lap. The man she knew she had loved since she was sixteen years old stood before her and the man she had tried to love for three years stood behind her. The choice was such a simple one yet she still hung back, but just for a second. Turning to Ryan she whispered, “I’m sorry, I can’t marry you.” With no other explanation she took a step towards Richard who was now half way up the aisle with his hand held out to her. Ryan tugged her arm and swung her back round to face him. His face was stern and his eyes fuelled with fury. “You will not leave this church until you are my wife. We are meant to be together.” Dawn gently shook her head. “No. We’re not. Richard has just shown me with just a few words the life I want. I’m sick of walking on shattered glass with you trying to make you happy. It should not be this difficult.” Still he would not let go, a redness seeping into the skin around his grip. “So what would you have done had he not shown up?” Dawn shrugged. “I guess I would have married you, but that does not make it right.” With that she pulled away from his hold and took another step towards Richard. One final glance back at Ryan told her everything she needed to know as his fist came smashing into her face. Hearing her nose crack she grasped hold of it as pain consumed her and blood spurted out. Dawn pushed Richard backwards so that he could not throw a punch no matter how badly he might want to before turning back to Ryan, who was now being restrained by his father who looked both embarrassed and shocked. Calmly she looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Now everyone can see what a fool I’ve been and why I really can’t marry you. The first time you did that to me I convinced myself it was a one off. The second time, I told myself you were under pressure with work and the third I put it down to the stresses of planning a wedding. Quite frankly I should have left you the first time and then no-one would have had to witness this debacle of a wedding, but through all of my doubts I was willing to put other people’s opinions before my own feelings. Well no more.” Grabbing Richard’s hand she pulled him up the aisle behind her and burst out of the church, not caring about the reactions coming from the guests. Ripping off her veil she threw it into the garden along with her bouquet and kept running. When they were far enough up the narrow road away from the church she stopped and faced Richard. “So you love me huh? Could you not have told me three years ago?” she asked laughing at him. He laughed too but said nothing. Instead he pulled her towards him and kissed her. He was so gentle, his touch soft and his arm around her was loosely protecting her back. A far cry from what she was used to. 

A Hidden Treasure

Sat in the centre of a busy town

Lay a secret. A hidden treasure chest

Of perfect silence and beauty.

Four long avenues all lined with pine trees

Lead away from the stone steps playing host

To the rocky water fountain. 

A palm tree stands tall with a chunky trunk.

Stunted yet broad branches look like many

Tongues sticking out from a monster.

Ugly. Yet beauty lies in the large leaves,

As, pretty and green, they spill out, waving,  

Like jazz hands at a dance soiree.

This secluded haven has been soundproofed

From anything not relevant to now.

Now being this rare chance of peace.

The only sounds are the trickling water

Some crunchy footsteps on the gravel paths

And the light breeze rustling the leaves.

Laughter erupts as a child interprets

A tree to look like a person in mud,

Head first. “A bum tree,” he giggles.

The tree indeed has a torso like trunk.

Where the bark has split it gives the look of

Two legs kicking for a way out.

In the depths of an Italian town,

Hidden away behind trees and bushes

Lies this little secret garden.

The Room

I was in the room again. Having upset my mother for the third day in a row with there still being five and a half weeks left of the summer break I was beginning to feel I would never see the outside world again. I’d only eaten my breakfast. I didn’t think I’d had time to annoy her but here she was shoving me down on the floor against the width of the wall which separated my parent’s room from the one I shared with my brother and then she closed all of the five doors tight so that no light would spill out into the hall I was in. I was all in darkness and barely able to make out my surroundings but no matter how dark it was I could always see the black plastic laundry bin in the corner in front of the huge airing cupboard, like a guard. It was less than a metre from where I was sitting and it was like it was edging towards me as I tried to inch away from it in fear of the spiders lurking behind it. Once I become accustomed to the darkness I became less rigid as I tried to see the hands on my Mickey Mouse watch and wondered how long I would be in here today.

            The room was my enemy. In here I was secluded. I was unable to play with my brother or my toys. Lego was my favourite as I could build roads that I could pretend would lead me away from here or houses that were bigger and better than this one. I would imagine I lived there with a family who loved playing. Here all I could do was twiddle my thumbs and think about what I could be doing. I always sat with my back pinned against the wall and I was usually afraid to move as I was always wondering how long the seclusion would last, always wondering when one of those spiders might attack.

Yet the room was also my friend which may seem odd but in some ways it was my safe place. When I was here I was not dodging harsh words or flailing fists. I love the word flailing, I mused. I’d heard my teacher say it and was always looking for a chance to use it. I like words especially in books where I can lose myself in the story. Here though I can only make stories up in my head. Some were silly, some not so much. I closed my eyes whilst I was imagining things. Well sort of. I always kept one eye half open and focused on the laundry bin in the corner.

            Today though was the third day in a row. I was bored of sitting in one place. Today was adventure day. I got onto my hands and knees and pretended I was a nice bright red sports car. Crawling around the small T shaped room, using my eyes as indicators when I thought I needed to go left or right, I was able to pretend I was on a road trip with a friend who I whispered to on my travels around the room. Don’t get me wrong the room was small and so there was not much travelling ground but I had a great imagination. A friend from school had told me he had gone on a long plane journey to go and see Mickey Mouse so I turned my ‘car’ in the direction of the airport. I passed bright green fields and big square houses with lots of windows and children playing in the garden. I admired the view all the way to the airport and when I got there I stopped, in awe of the jumbo jets. I could not wait to fly away in one.

            Even with my imagination there was nowhere far enough away for me to escape to so it wasn’t long before I came back to reality to the sound of clashing dishes as my mother aggressively did the washing up. I sat back in my place against the wall. I looked at Mickey on my wrist and saw that actually time hadn’t moved on that much. I sighed and put my head in my hands and rested them on my knee, still with half an eye on the corner. However I must have managed to doze off because before long I was jolted awake some time later with my mother now banging cupboards. Her mood had obviously not improved but it did mean that hopefully this time in the room was coming to an end as it was lunchtime. Well I guess a little boy like me can hope hey?

No Introduction Neccessary

Stepping onto Italian soil for the first time was refreshing and exciting. I grabbed my sister's arm as we left the plane and skipped to the coach which would take us across the wide runway to the arrivals terminal. In less than twenty minutes I would meet the girl I had been writing to since I was eleven years old. This is a friendship that holds no boundaries, despite the distance, a friendship which has stood the test of time. We had written over fifty letters over ten years with each of the ones I had received carefully stashed away in a little purple case with Winnie the Pooh on the front. In those letters we had shared everything there was to know about ourselves. This girl knew more about me than anyone and reads every word I write without conviction as do I with her.

            As Victoria and I boarded the coach we sat down and I now had a chance to absorb our surroundings. The airport itself looked barren with patches of brownish green grass mixed in with long, wide areas of dull grey tarmac. The sky however was a brilliant, bright blue with no sign of any clouds and in the distance a view of green forestry and mountains broke the secret of the beautiful sights that Italy had to offer. In the middle of the Italian summer the sun was high in the sky and beating down ferociously. I took off my jacket and the heat seeped through the window and onto my skin. I smiled. I could not wait to enjoy my first holiday without my parents, but more importantly I could not wait to enjoy some time with my best friend. In front of us was the terminal and Victoria and I soon descended from the coach and made our way inside. The terminal itself was quite ordinary, decorated simply and plainly. We queued for a short while before our passports were checked by a rather sullen looking man. I smiled as he handed me back my documents but he was already checking Victoria's therefore not noticing. With the formalities taken care of we were free to get our luggage and I watched the screens to see where we had to go. It took forever but eventually we were wheeling our suitcases towards the exit. We walked through a heavy wooden door out of the quiet baggage collection area and into the noisy chaos of the arrivals lounge. I quickly shut the door behind me almost afraid to let the noise seep into the peace of the previous room.

            I glanced around and saw people everywhere. As we battled through the crowds I had a nervous feeling in my stomach. What if I didn't recognise her? What if she didn't like me? Would we have as much in common as our letters showed? All of this was spinning in my mind as my sister pulled me forward. “Come on,” she said moving on ahead. Finally I could see the exit which would lead us back out into the glorious sunshine. My eyes paused at the main doors as we walked towards them where stood in front of them was a man in his fifties and a girl in her early twenties. It was her short black hair which made me stop and focus for a second before a wave from her confirmed my suspicions. It was Gloria. My first worry could be scrubbed as we ran towards each other with excitement. Her face seemed to mirror what I was feeling. She didn't give me a chance to stand still, immediately folding me into a hug as she said, “Rebecca, finally we meet.” She held me for a moment or two before kissing me on both cheeks. The Italian way, I smiled to myself. I was much calmer and wondering why I had ever thought an introduction would be necessary. It was easy to tell that we were not strangers. Our letters and photos had been the basis of our friendship and this meeting was just the start of a new chapter. As Gloria stepped aside to hug Victoria, her father hugged and kissed me also. With everyone now knowing everyone we were led away from the terminal, with Gloria not letting go of me, as though wanting to make sure I was real. I smiled as I realised I was probably doing the same. As we entered the car park she did break free to help her father to locate the ticket machine and as I followed Gloria I could not help but study my friend. I kept glancing at her so as not to make it obvious. She was a slightly older version of the photo she had sent a few years earlier. She was stunningly beautiful with her tanned skin, large dark eyes and slim physique. She was dressed in jeans and a black top and her skin was soaking up the rays of the sun. Her father on the other hand was wearing casual jeans and an oversized checked shirt. He was medium height, perhaps slightly shorter than me at five foot six and slightly round at the middle. He had a booming laugh; this I learned quickly, which enveloped all that was in his company making his mood infectious. It was clear to me that despite being in a strange country I was amongst friends.

            The drive to Gloria’s house took an hour but it seemed a lot less than that as we enjoyed a four way conversation because although Gloria’s father could not speak English he wanted to know more about us so with my friend translating we told him what he wanted to know. I was trying to talk as clearly as possible whilst looking out of the window to see where we were heading.

            Soon we arrived at Gloria’s house and I gasped at its size. “Wow, this is such a beautiful house,” I praised whilst Gloria laughed at my reaction and it was. The first difference I noticed from some of the houses we had seen on the way back was that from the outside this did not look like a two storey house. The garden was well cared for and there were two gorgeous dogs running around trying to lick our hands off. Laughing, Gloria grabbed my hand and eagerly ushered me inside to meet her mother who was in the kitchen cooking. She wiped her hands on her apron and welcomed me into her arms much the same as her daughter and husband had at the airport. I was overwhelmed by the reception we were receiving. It didn’t feel like we were all meeting for the first time. It was like I was already a part of their family. It was surreal but wonderful. Next Gloria’s mum hugged Victoria and then she shooed us out of the kitchen so Gloria took this time to show us our room so we could freshen up. This was when I noticed that this house was actually two floors but the second was located downstairs at an underground level so the bedrooms were able to stay cooler. Ingenious I couldn’t help thinking.

            Our bedroom was huge. It had space for three beds, a sofa and it also held a small kitchenette with a small table. Across from the bedroom was a bathroom which would be ours also. It was amazing. It was like another little home at the bottom of the house.

Gloria wasn’t yet letting me out of her sight so I searched my suitcase for the present I’d bought for her which once located I suggested we go out to the garden. Once there we chilled out at the table which was already laid out with food and drink ready for dinner and I handed Gloria the small gift I’d found for her. It was just a small book of poetry about friends but she loved it. She kissed and hugged me and thanked Victoria also, not wanting her to feel left out. My sister however was more intrigued by all the food and drink on the table and almost on cue Gloria’s father offered us some homemade wine. There was a choice of red and white and we both chose white whilst Gloria chose red. You could see the pride on his face as he poured the wine and talked about it animatedly in Italian whilst Gloria translated for us. As I sat back listening I tasted the wine and eventually ate the beautiful pastas, breads and salads spread before us. I felt I now knew what heaven was. We were surrounded by good people, fantastic weather, beautiful scenery and amazing food.

            After such a warm welcome from these wonderful people I could not wait for what the days ahead brought. This holiday really was going to be one of a lifetime as I realised once again that this friendship that Gloria and I had formed was much deeper than the written words in our letters.

The Truth Doesn't Change Anything

The stairs to the attic were old and rickety, making Katrina flinch at the noise she was making as she climbed to the top as Annie, the housekeeper was in bed with a migraine. This was the last place Katrina wanted to be but it was the only place left which needed packing up before the estate agents took control of the task of selling Grandmother Lily’s house. Armed with empty boxes she slotted them under her arm so that she could get the key into the lock. The huge oak door was stiff in place and Katrina pressed her shoulder onto the door giving it a good shove before it swung open. Trying to get her breath back she threw the boxes inside the room, taking her time to follow them, looking around the room absorbing the dusty, cluttered space before her. Sighing, she pulled up her sleeves and got to work.

            It took her an hour to move furniture to one side of the room so she could get to the shelves and boxes at the back of the room by a stunning stain glassed window. It was like a kaleidoscope image with a swarm of colours protruding into one another. Dragging her eyes away from its beauty she got back to the job at hand. With the furniture dealt with Katrina wiped her hands on the back of her jeans and sat down on one of the old carpet rugs that covered the wooden boards in the floor and pulled some boxes towards her. The first was full of beautiful, old baby clothes. “My mother’s?” Katrina wondered to herself as she placed them one by one into a new box and discarded the old one.  Pushing the clean, newly filled box aside she selected another and dragged it between her legs which were spread out in front of her like she was stretching in a yoga class. Opening the damp box she found it was full of old diaries, and photo albums. She succeeded in securing the diaries into a cleaner home but she could not resist looking at the photos. Resting the creaking spine of the largest album on her knee Katrina looked through the leather bound book of photos of her grandmother as a child. Katrina smiled in awe at the little girl’s mass of curly blonde locks which spilled down onto her shoulders. Katrina could only ever remember her grandmother having a smart crop of grey hair. Turning the pages Katrina could see Lily grow from a pretty, petite girl into a beautiful, slim, young woman. Oh how she missed the woman who had become her guardian and in time her best friend.

            The final picture in the album was a wedding picture of Katrina’s grandmother and grandfather whom Katrina had never met, him having died when her mother was three years old. Smiling at how happy they looked she turned the final page to make sure there was not another picture she had missed. There wasn’t. Instead there was an envelope taped to the inside of the back cover. Seeing it had her name on it she carefully peeled it away from the album and opened it. It was a letter from Lily and inside that was a photograph. Intrigued she looked at that first and found herself staring at a picture of Grandmother Lily, dressed in a black dress and a black veil as she stood over a grave. Intrigued Katrina looked closer at the picture bringing it right up to her face. On the grey headstone at the far end of the mound of earth she saw the inscription. Rest in peace Maisie-Leigh. Confusion overwhelmed her as she turned back to the ivory paper that Lily had written her note on.

Kat

This will make sense I promise but you will have to go on a little journey. Before you go I just want to tell you how proud I am to call you my granddaughter. I love you darling.

Lily xx

Puzzled Katrina suddenly swayed, putting a hand to her head. She grappled for a nearby chair as dizziness swept over her and she expected to succumb to blackness but as she missed the chair and fell to the floor she felt a pain in her ribs as she realised someone was kicking her continuously. Baffled she tried to get a grip on her surroundings when another kick caused her to buckle in agony. Twisting her head she saw a man she vaguely recognised, fury emanating from his face. Disorientation hit her nearly as hard as her attacker’s boot as she realised that she was no longer holding the letter or the photo in her hand nor was she lying on the floor in the attic. Instead she was huddled in the corner of a 1950s style kitchen wearing a floral dress, flat black shoes and a plain white apron. Looking back up she realised that the man kicking her was her grandfather, Geoffrey. The fear in her eyes was fuelling his anger as he shouted at her, “You are bloody useless, you knew I needed my dinner at four today. You know I am meeting Hobbs for a drink. Where is that bloody woman you call a housekeeper? Can’t she follow orders either?” He slapped her hard, striking his wedding ring against her, causing it to cut her freshly moisturised cheek. Her hand flew to her face and her fingers became sticky as they made contact with the broken skin. Geoffrey just sniffed at her. “Why did I ever marry you? You are unable to perform even the simplest of tasks to my bidding and now I’m lumbered with you for the rest of my life,” he finished planting his shoe in her ribs again. Realisation struck as Katrina looked down at herself once more. Putting a hand to her face and then to her hair she understood that all he could see was Lily. Somehow Katrina had become her grandmother and reverted back in time at least fifty five years.

            Unable to grasp the logistics of the situation she decided that the only thing that mattered right now was getting away from Geoffrey. Dragging herself up off the floor she managed to dodge more kicks and slaps as she half crawled across the kitchen. As she was finally able to stand she wobbled slightly but managed to remain upright. Trying to get her bearings she noticed a little girl of about three cowering in the doorway. Horrified Katrina forced herself past Lily’s husband, who was trying to prevent her from leaving the room, and grabbed the girl, Maisie-Leigh, close to her just as Geoffrey punched her once more, causing the child to scream. This angered the bully more and he burst between the woman and the child, shoving Maisie-Leigh hard against the wall. As the child slumped to the floor Geoffrey struck her across the head and Katrina screamed also and without thinking lifted the huge pan of hot water off the stove and brought it down on Geoffrey’s head causing him to collapse. It was almost like it had happened in slow motion and the shock at what she had just done coursed through her as the seriousness of what she had just done dawned on her. Katrina could see blood seeping from an already forming bruise but as she pulled herself together Katrina had no other thoughts for the man, instead rushing to Maisie-Leigh’s side. As Katrina felt for a pulse and tried to shake her awake it became all too clear that it was too late. Her tiny physique had been unable to fight the brutality of her father’s outburst and the blow to her head had been fatal. Tears ran down Katrina’s face as she huddled her grandmother’s child into her arms. She could not even begin to understand any of what had just happened. She was inside someone else’s body in which she had no control over. Lily was making her relive this and Katrina was slowly beginning to figure out why.

            Annie came out of the shadows and although she was shaking she took charge as Katrina continued to cradle the child. Once Annie had made the call the police arrived quickly, taking no time at all to seal off the crime scene. After an endless amount of questions they were satisfied that events had happened as they had been described and so with the interrogation over Annie grabbed a bottle of brandy, poured some into a glass and made Katrina drink it as finally one of the officers gently prised Maisie-Leigh away from her. The burning of the brandy on her throat shocked her into not screaming but it did not stop the tears from falling as she collapsed into Annie’s arms. As the sobs burst from her she hit out at Annie her fist clenched as Katrina struck her. Annie took a firm grip of her and hugged her tight. As Katrina continued to be controlled by Lily’s actions she realised how deceptive the wedding picture she had been looking at was to anyone who saw it. She also realised that if it hadn’t been for Annie her grandmother would never have gotten through this horrific ordeal.

*

Katrina could feel someone gently tapping her on the face. As she focused she realised she was back in the attic and Annie was helping her to slowly sit up. “Are you ok? It looks like you fainted there for a wee while.” Katrina nodded and then pulled Annie close and held her tight. “Thank you. Thank you for being there for my grandmother when she needed you most.” Annie, confused, said nothing. Katrina tried to stand but nausea caused her to change her mind. As the feeling of sickness took a grip she noticed a transparent figure emerge by her side. It was her grandmother and it seemed like she had just come from within Katrina, who cautiously held out her hand which Lily took as Katrina trembled at the wispy cobweb like sensation. “I’m sorry,” Lily whispered. “I had to let you know the truth. I had to let you know that you were not really mine.”  As Lily faded away Katrina tried to keep a hold of her as she said, “That’s not true. You cared for me like I was your own and that’s all that counts. I have had a great life and that is all down to you. Don’t feel guilt. Go in peace and remember I love you Grandmother Lily.” Lily smiled and finally let go as she drifted towards the window convincing Katrina that, now she had shared her burden, she was indeed at peace. Once Lily had disappeared completely Katrina kissed Annie and said, “You weren’t just her housekeeper Annie, you were her best friend too.” With that she turned on her heel, ran down the stairs, grabbed her denim jacket and made the short walk to the cemetery, wanting to be near to her grandmother for a little while longer.      

Sweet to Bitter Sweet

The first night I met you, my darling Alexia, I knew you were the one for me despite my first rather stereotypical impression. It was a blind date arranged by mutual friends and although I trusted them with my life, as I'm sure did you, I was dubious. This said I did agree, reluctantly, to go along with it but I was filled with negativity, having had a string of unsuccessful dates in recent months and so I never expected things to pan out quite the way they did.
    You pulled up in your slightly banged up Nissan Micra, dressed in a crumpled, derogative top, with torn jeans and very muddy trainers. I was honestly cringing as I tried to keep my obsessive compulsive tendencies at bay but then you suggested we go to a fish and chip takeaway and despite not usually seeing myself as shallow I must admit my first thought was, 'oh god please not untidy and someone who can't even afford to go halves on a decent meal' but it just goes to show that I should not have judged by appearance alone.
    You ordered for me which irritated me but I went along with it especially since, miraculously, you had ordered the same as I would have. You handed me my haddock and chips and you led the way as we negotiated some steep steps down onto the beach and then you handed your meal to me as well whilst you unpacked your grimy looking rucksack. Yes, I know, I was still being critical. You unpacked a blanket, two glasses and a bottle of champagne and I hoped I did not have a look of shock on my face as you laid the blanket on the sand and offered me a seat. “Madam,” you said shyly. Once we were sat we tucked into our food and fell into easy conversation. Between mouthfuls of food I took a moment to take a better look at you. The setting sun was reflecting off your tanned face and your shoulder length blonde hair and blue eyes were both glistening in the midst of the reds and purples of the evening sky. Despite my earlier misgivings I actually liked what I saw and as we got to know each other a little better I realised I had made a mistake in my initial impression of you especially after you confess that you had not had time to change after an unexpected field trip with a patient at the nursing home you worked at. I smiled at my own cynicism and you asked what I was smiling at. Embarrassed, thinking that I had been caught out I made some silly excuse but you did not believe me so, with no other choice and potentially risking my lift home I told you the truth but rather than getting angry at me you leant in and you kissed me. It was like a sparkler on bonfire night, yet so soft and gentle and when we pulled apart we were both smiling. Standing up you held out your hand to me which I took to hoick myself off the ground. “Come on,” you said, “Let's go for a walk. There is an old ruin further down the beach which is beautiful as the sun sets,” and without waiting for my reply you grabbed my hand and skipped ahead so I had no choice but to follow.
    Our first date turned out to be perfect and that first show of honesty and trust became the foundation of our fifteen year marriage. It may not have always been an easy ride but it was never boring and I would not change any part of it. You are the only woman I have truly loved and I only wished it could have continued into old age but fate had other plans my darling. I will be gone when you read this and as much I hope that you never forget me and what we had together I also hope that you move on with your life and continue to achieve everything you have ever dreamed of. I love you and I love everything you stand for. You are an inspiration to me and all of those around you. I love you Alexia and I always will.

    *

Alexia choked on the last few words of Charlotte's letter and she let out a small sob. Pulling herself together she finished her eulogy by saying, “I found this letter this morning when I collected my dress from the dry cleaners and I knew I had to share this with every one of you. I could have easily written the same letter it is so true to each of us, although I would have had to put that she was dressed in high heels, posh cropped jeans and looking a little pretentious. You see I wasn't exactly blown away with her for the first five minutes either.” This got a laugh and Alexia stared out at the seventy or so faces that littered the church pews before she continued, “Not everyone agreed with our relationship much less our marriage but together we made a life and all of you have been a valued family member or friend all the way. If Charlotte is looking down on us now she would be honoured that so many of you came to say goodbye. Thank you.” With this Alexia stepped down from the altar and went back to her seat. Beside her Sophia took her hand, “Mummy would be so proud of you,” the little girl whispered. Alexia smiled through her tears and put an arm around her daughter. 

Better Than Revenge

Fiona was angry but although she wanted to get her revenge she wanted it to be good. The anger had been simmering away all week but rather than letting it boil over and doing the inevitable scorned spouse confrontation she set about thinking of a plan which would satisfy her desire for revenge long term. Fiona's husband it had recently transpired was not worth going to jail for and so although she would love to do some serious damage to his nether regions this was not an option and quite honestly it was a little predictable, as was burning all of his belongings. She wanted the proverbial knife to stick like it was wedged in a block of cheese.
    Sitting down at her desk in her office in the attic with a mug of fresh hot coffee, she loaded up the computer so that she could do some work but before she did she browsed the internet and it took just thirty minutes to spend £3000 on Luke’s credit card. As she waited for the last order to be processed she sat back and let her mind slip back to the previous week when she had come home a day early from a rather successful business trip to find a trail of clothes snaking up the staircase like a vile infestation. She had stood at the bottom pathetically staring at a pair of lacy red knickers that could, quite frankly, be mistaken for a piece of dental floss. Stood frozen in place, her whole body numb as she tried to block out the obscene noises coming from the bedroom she usually shared with her husband.
    Eventually she moved swiftly up the stairs. Knowing what she would find she burst open the door and took a tiny bit of pleasure in seeing her husband and his floozy leap apart in the midst of their unfinished act of deception. Speechless they both stared at her as they tried to protect their modesty with the purple covers, giving her time to take a look at the blonde haired tramp lying in her bed with her husband. Fiona laughed cruelly at the look of horror on her face but promptly ignoring it she said, “You! Get your smutty red underwear off my stairs and get the hell out of my house.” She did have the sense to disappear but not before daring to throw Luke a fleeting glance.
    “You,” Fiona yelled at her husband, “can pack your crap and get out. I don’t care if it was a one off. I don’t care if it didn’t mean anything. Whatever excuse you have is not going to work on me. I have apparently put a lot of worthless effort into this marriage and I have no more to spare.” Rather shamefaced he got out of bed, quickly dressed in business attire; all with Fiona staring at him, hopefully making him feel very uncomfortable. He packed his black leather case, still not saying a word until he was finished and then he said, “I’m flying to Hong Kong tonight for the next two weeks but once I am back I’ll collect the rest of my stuff and my car. Fiona...” He stopped as she gave him a look which reiterated how little she cared and so he said “I’ll call a taxi and wait downstairs.”  He left, offering no further explanation or apology. Slamming the door behind him and brusquely brushing away tears which threatened to fall but she refused to give into them. Instead she stripped the bed of its sheets and threw them out of the window where they fell directly onto the compost heap. She would burn them later.
    Coming swiftly back to the present Fiona took an excited gulp of her coffee causing her to choke as some went down the wrong way. Laughing and coughing she tapped into her eBay account. Drumming her fingers against the mug as she waited for it to accept her password she thought about what she would write and soon she was drafting an advert.
    Buy Now – Collection only
    Mercedes E63 Class AMG 6.2 Diesel 2011 – Matt Black
    1 owner, FSH - 8 months tax + 2 years warranty
    Looking for very quick sale.
    Price: £1 - This is not a joke!
Finished, Fiona sat back, grinning at what she thought to be a genius plan. The car had been Luke’s gift to himself last year when he had received a generous inheritance from a distant relative. He had paid cash for the vehicle but ironically he had temporarily put it into her name to escape some hefty bills. Fiona had not understood it all at the time but it was certainly going in her favour now. Swivelling round in her chair she looked out of the window and eyed the sleek looking motor. It stood handsomely next to her slightly more modest silver Hyundai Coupé. Oh but not for long, she thought as she finally got down to some actual work.
    Emails kept flooding in during the next few days as people tried to figure out if the price was genuine but eventually someone took Fiona at her word and arranged to come and view the car. Rushing around half an hour before the scheduled meeting she made sure everything was ready to hand over if the potential buyer was happy. She had even washed the car, something she had previously prided herself on never doing, not that she had probably needed to have bothered since the car was going for such a small price. Giggling to herself she boiled the kettle to make coffee and waited.
    Alex Maxwell was actually a woman, despite Fiona being convinced that the emails she had been receiving were from a man. Alex barely left her time to open the door before she barged in, not waiting for an invite. Introducing herself whilst finding her own way to the kitchen she planted herself onto one of the breakfast bar stools and looked Fiona up and down who was just staring at her, open mouthed, not sure what to say. Eventually she said, “I'm Fiona.”
    Tutting loudly Alex said, “Yes, I gathered that. So you are selling your car for £1? May I ask why?” Running her fingers repeatedly through her hair Fiona felt like she was being interrogated by the Mafia so she just mumbled, “Fancy a change.”
    “And you think you'll get that change for a pound?” The intruder exclaimed. “Sit down dear,” she said more gently, which sounded odd considering the woman didn't appear to be much older than Fiona was. Despite being in her own home she felt like a stranger in someone else's as she meekly sat down on another of the stools.
    “Separated?” Alex enquired staring at the white line on Fiona's ring finger which until last week had housed her wedding ring for the last six years. She nodded, not really sure what else to say or do.
    “Thought as much when I read your advert.” Puzzled Fiona just listened as Alex continued. “Three years ago I put a similar advert in the local newspaper after I found my husband in bed with the next door neighbours hussy of a daughter. She was legal but barely,” Alex sighed as she remembered. “Anyway this act of revenge turned out to be a huge error in judgement as when my husband found out the whole divorce turned into a money and child war. Adultery it seems is a lesser crime than revenge and I lost everything. It didn't help that my ex husband is the most devious man I know, but if I had been less inclined for revenge and more inclined for long term satisfaction I would not have sold his car for... yes you guessed it... one pound and I might have some say in my children’s lives. His being rich was a real nail in my coffin.” 
    Fiona at this point was now stood making coffee. She offered Alex one who accepted as Fiona asked her why she was telling her all of this. Alex mulled this over for a moment as she decided how to answer before she said, “Honestly? I'm lonely and I figured if you were about to lose your husband then you might need a friend and as I could use one too I thought I would offer my services.” She stopped, nervously twiddling her thumbs, her leg also bouncing up and down as she realised how weird she might be sounding. “Basically, I don't want you to make the same mistake I did.” Fiona was incredibly moved by what this woman was doing for her.
    A week later, on a rare afternoon off work, Fiona was sat in her lounge with a glass of wine in her hand. Alex was on one side of her and a couple of other friends were on the other side. They were in genuine fits of laughter, enjoying good conversation but in the midst of all the chatter Fiona   could hear a gentle cough from the doorway and turned to see Luke standing there beckoning her to him. She looked surprised to see him stood there not having heard him let himself in. Initially she blanked him as she took another mouthful of wine but then she quietly excused herself and ushered him into the kitchen. “You're back then?” she started offhandedly.
    “Yes,” he answered. “Can we talk before I just pack up my stuff and go?” he asked.
    Alex burst in just then and said excitedly, “Come on they're about to put the DVD on from Sammy's hen party.”
“You went to a hen party,” Luke asked seemingly surprised.
“Yeah, hen party on Saturday, the races on Sunday and numerous nights out since then too,” she said indifferently. “Your stuff is all where you left it and your car keys are hanging up by the back door. If you could leave your house keys in the bowl in the hall when you leave that would be great.” With that she turned on her heel and went back to her friends in the lounge. Alex had been right. It was so much more satisfying for him to see how she had moved on without him when he appeared to look like he had some regrets. In the week she had known Alex she had become a good friend and it just went to show that something good can come out of something unfortunate. Smiling broadly she filled up her wine glass and squeezed herself into the small gap on the sofa.

On Fathers Day I Say...

Make today about you
Just once say no to them all.
Enjoy a western
Or visit the grandchildren.
Just do what you want to do

You are a great dad,
Who has listened to our woes,
Forgiven our crimes,
Patched up our many bruises
And fixed my car once or twice.

The nest is empty
Yet you still support us all
Your job never done
Today though is your day to
Remember your girls love you.

Calliope at War

Waves were angrily thrashing at the sides of the H.M.S Calliope making it almost impossible to concentrate with the added noise of the rain as it beat down on the crew as they tried to manoeuvre through the storm. They were fighting against a head wind of over one hundred and fifty miles per hour. The hurricane was at its peak as it let nothing get in its way. Other ships in the vicinity had already been damaged beyond repair due to its ferocity and Captain Henry Coey Kane was desperately trying to guide his crew to safety. It was a tough task trying to keep the Calliope upright against the extremity of the winds but Kane was determined to keep his ship from the same fate as those he was slowly leaving behind. Just twenty feet from coral reef the propeller was spinning at seventy four revelations per minute and there were at least ten men on the wheel shouting at each other to make themselves heard as they tried to maintain some control of the rudder as the Calliope narrowly missed hitting another ship.

*

Twelve hours earlier there had been little sign, despite strong gales the night before, that this was the war this crew would have to battle. With his ship quietly stationed on the calm water of the Samoan Islands, Captain Kane was stood at the helm underneath a clear sky, slowly twisting his moustache between his fingers as he waited. What he was waiting for he did not know for sure but he had been sent with his crew to watch over the ever growing diplomatic crisis between the United States and Germany. Confrontation between six vessels, three American and three German, also situated near the port of Apia, looked imminent and Kane's men were on hand to intervene when necessary. Kane's immediate problem was that seven vessels in this small area of the pacific ocean left little room and Kane was of the opinion that more space could be made if only half of the vessels were anchored there, but with six vessels staring each other down and pride being at the forefront of their minds there seemed little hope of any of them backing down and moving out of the small reef engulfed area.

      As Kane started thinking strategy he was interrupted by Navigating Lieutenant Henry Pearson who insisted the Captain look at his current barometer reading. “The readings have been gradually falling all morning,” Pearson told Kane who agreed that this meant one thing. A hurricane could be in full swing in a matter of hours. Taking stock of the situation around him, he saw that none of the other ships seemed to be preparing to move despite Kane knowing that each ship would contain a barometer with similar readings. Rubbing the back of his neck as a spasm of tiredness hit him he made a decision. “Keep me updated every thirty minutes or sooner if anything changes dramatically. I want to be prepared for any disaster but at the same time I do not want to act the fool and leave toward open waters only to have to come crawling back when nothing happens. We have already survived one storm. I am sure we will come through another. Dismissed.” Needing no more encouragement the Lieutenant turned on his heel and returned to his workspace.

*

Now in the throes of torrential rain and gale force winds Kane was glad he had been given the early warning. The wind seemed to have reached its climax, screaming around them at 185 miles per hour making it impossible to think, but not thinking was a luxury Kane could not afford as the Calliope had dragged its anchor so far it was only six feet away from the reefs. After several collisions with nearby ships due to the ports anchor breaking free, he was now forced to order all his stokers below deck to shovel for their lives to obtain maximum steam pressure as he finally decided to slip the starboard cable and venture away from the dangers of the nearby reefs and the ships in close proximity. Other ships had already been beached and Kane did not want to join them. He needed to venture into more open space if they were to survive this storm but travelling at one knot per hour, despite engines being at full capacity it took two hours to travel just four cables as Kane's crew battled through the waves, negotiating the space between the neighbouring ships. Ahead of the Calliope were two American ships and to starboard there were two others. As the Calliope edged between them they clipped the side of one of the other ships causing Kane to fear that extensive damage had been caused. “Report,” he screamed at his closest men through the noise of the storm. Rain was still streaming down in sheets and the wind was no less vicious. No real damage could be detected at this point so the crew steered themselves away from immediate collision narrowly missing another ship as they straightened up fighting against the gales all the while. The war against the hurricane was using up the crews combined strength but their morale to beat it never failed.

       It took many hours but eventually the H.M.S Calliope made it to open waters. The ship that had been nearest to them cheered as they passed. The Trenton had irreparable wreckage and the Calliope was in no position to help them yet the crew of the American ship were in awe of their bravery wishing them all the best and now eleven hours later Kane was able to instruct his crew to ease the engines as the hurricane was slowly subsiding too. The Calliope had sustained minimal damage and Kane called his crew together to express his gratitude. He was proud of the strength and courage they had portrayed. “This was not the war we anticipated but nevertheless we came through undefeated.” The crew cheered and saluted their captain proud to be working for him. It was after all his guidance that had helped them prevail.

       In the hours that followed they celebrated their success and their lives before Captain Kane made the decision to venture back towards Apia to survey the damage the hurricane had left behind. The experience of this short and much quicker journey was sobering as they surveyed the mass of bodies littering the enclosed waters of the port. Some of the ships had drifted ashore where crews were now trying to repair them, others had been wrecked causing the extensive loss of life. The surviving Captains were full of praise for Kane and he found some comfort in their words. His crew after all were safe, but some of that credit, he thought, should go to the H.M.S Calliope herself.

TWINTUITION

Tonight I felt my sister die as the knife he used sliced into her heart

When the pain subsided I knew she was gone so

Ignoring my grief I called the police.

Now I was at home and she was in town but,  
They took my knowledge of her whereabouts as an admission of guilt.  Understandably I was met with disbelief as I explained how

I'd felt her pain as I now felt her presence. 

Terry Adams is who you want and he is burying her body in West End Park.

I solved their case yet they were still suspicious but all I wanted now was to grieve.

Oh Lucy, I was with you at the end, I promise I was.

Now rest in peace my darling twin.

One Sided

“Wow you look great,” Helen told her friend as she kissed Lisa on the cheek.
“Of course,” Lisa said as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.
So, how are you?” asked Helen as she sat down opposite Lisa and shuffled out of her jacket.
“I'm really good,” replied Lisa enthusiastically, picking up the wine menu and Helen smiled. Lisa was never as bothered about ordering food as she was about ordering wine. The waiter took their drinks order and amidst Lisa's flirtatious remarks a bottle of red was quickly selected, along with a jug of water and then Helen opened the main menu whilst Lisa bombarded her with information about the current state of her life.
“So yes, things couldn't be better right now. I left Jack. He wasn't right for me so I'm back on the market for a rich, eligible bachelor who will sweep me off my feet and treat me like a queen.”  Hardly taking a breath Lisa continued, “I've been promoted at long last. I don't know what took them so long,” she sighed dramatically, “but I'm now the producer of the show and since I've taken over the ratings have gone through the roof. All it needed were a few proactive changes and I was the woman to put them into place,” she bragged as Helen nodded and smiled. The waiter came back to take their food order and then Lisa continued talking and Helen kept nodding and smiling despite being slightly annoyed that since it was she who had arranged this lunch Lisa had not so much as asked her how she was, but then it was always Helen who suggested their lunch dates.
“So anyway the station have asked if I would like to produce a second show and of course I said yes,” Lisa was saying as she poured wine into her glass before replacing it back into the cooler. Helen made a point of picking up the jug of water and poured herself a glass, but Lisa wasn't paying any attention. “This new show starts filming in October and looks like it will be a success, especially now I've suggested a few changes here and there.”
    It took drumming her fingernails on her glass repeatedly before Lisa eventually noticed that Helen was barely listening let alone joining in with the conversation.
“So anything new with you?” Lisa asked, almost reluctantly, as she reached over and took a piece of bread from the basket which has just been laid on their table.
“Well actually yes,” Helen said taking a sip of her water. “I...”
“Great, and how's simple Simon,” she laughed referring to Helen's husband.
“He's great. He's been promoted himself recently.” Trying to keep her voice upbeat she waited for the congratulations but none came and Lisa was soon back talking about herself again. “I put an offer on that house I was telling you about. I'm paying a little over the odds but it's worth it and I can afford it now so it shouldn't be a bother. You should so come and see it when I'm in. Oh yes and I will have to have a house warming. Hopefully I can persuade a few of my celeb friends to attend, that will make the others jealous of me.” Helen had once again switched off and if asked she would not have known what Lisa had been saying for the last few minutes. She was almost wishing she had not arranged to meet. It was always the same and no matter who told her this friendship was one sided she had never really seen it or done anything about it. Helen cleared her throat as she finished the last bites of her meal. Yes, that was how long Lisa had been talking.
“Lisa,” Helen said interrupting some story about the latest celebrity party Lisa had attended. “I arranged this lunch to tell you that I'm pregnant. I haven't told anyone else yet, except Simon of course,” she giggled with excitement as she said, “I wanted you to be the first to know,” Helen added.
“Honoured I'm sure,” Lisa said, the sarcasm hitting Helen like a slap in the face. “Well... another thing that Simon has done to get in the way of your career. You could have been such a success by now if you had put your mind to it but instead you insist on playing the suburban housewife.”
Helen could barely breathe as she tried to suppress her anger at Lisa's reaction to the happiest news of her life.
“Well,” Lisa was saying. “I'd better have this party sooner rather than later before you are too fat to look half decent in anything.”
Helen picked up her napkin which was lying on her lap, folded it neatly but did not let go as she said quietly, “How dare you pick apart my life as though it is inferior to yours. I have a husband who loves me and who happens to be kind hearted and fun to be around. Who do you have?” Wringing the napkin in her hands she ploughed on, not giving Lisa a chance to respond. “I have a perfectly good job that I love and am very good at, so I am successful thank you, just not in the lime light sort of way that you mean.” Lisa's mouth was wide open but for once Helen was not giving her a chance to speak. “You go through life destroying those around you until they are your fearful minions. Well I refuse to be one of them any longer. Goodbye Lisa. I'm going home to my husband to celebrate being pregnant and then I will call all of the people I should have called before telling you. My friends. The ones who will be happy for me.” Shaking, she stood up throwing her napkin on the table along with thirty pounds to cover the cost of her meal. Turning on her heel she left Lisa who was wondering what the hell had happened. 
    Outside the restaurant Helen called her husband. “You were right,” she said when he picked up after the first ring. “She was as enthusiastic as a pig on slaughter day. I'm sorry I yelled at you when you tried to tell me. I guess I had to find out for myself. I'll be home soon. I love you.” Hanging up she rushed to her car and drove home. A fractured friendship had finally broken and despite thinking all these years that she needed Lisa she knew now that she really didn't and all she wanted to do now was focus on her future and those who were true to her.