Julan62

“I
f Polly Mae pulls my cat’s tail again, or so much as glances in his direction, I will report her to the SSPCA. What a naughty wee lassie she is,” Mrs Donkin whined. “She should be locked up in a cage with a big padlock on it and fed bread and water for a week.”
If she had her way, she would bring the stockades back, or even hanging!
Polly Mae could just see it now…hundreds of kids strung up along the lampposts, with her prodding them with her broom! She was the neighbourhood’s answer to the wicked witch of the west, and she lived up to her reputation. And here she is, at it again, thought Polly Mae.
Poor old Polly Mae. She was always getting into bother. She could not understand why. She’d only pulled that silly old cat’s tail because it would not come down from the tree. She hadn’t even pulled it hard, as that would have been cruel. It just so happened that the cat had been in the tree she wanted to climb, so the cat had to go—it was as simple as that. But Mrs Donkin, from next door, the real neighbour from hell, was always trying to get Polly Mae into trouble. Some of the kids thought she was a demon from outer space sent to Earth to destroy all the fun of eleven-year-olds around the world. And I bet she even has a university degree in complaining! Polly Mae thought. She was waving her arms in the air like a loony and looked like she would take off any minute.
Polly Mae sat on her bed, to which her mum had banished her until teatime, watching out of the window. She watched and smiled. Mrs Donkin was still waving her arms around like a lolloping giant octopus. Her grey hair gently blowing in the wind that was caused by the air coming from her mouth. That made Polly Mae smile to herself.
She wondered what she could do to keep herself busy. Being in her room was not the thing she wanted to do best in the world right now. She listened to her CDs and began to imitate Kylie, using her hairbrush as a microphone, but even that got boring after a while.
She walked over to the bedroom window and looked out. “What a waste of a beautiful, warm day,” she sighed. “If only I could get out.”
She sat down again on the bed and thought for a while. “Ah ha! I know…I can climb out of the window,” she said, suddenly excited and almost fell off her bed.
Polly Mae checked to see if her mum was still talking to Mrs Donkin by opening the door a smidgen. Yes, just as she suspected, they were still talking. Blimey, can they gab! Polly Mae thought.
She went over to her bedroom window and cleared the things from the windowsill. Taking great care when moving her porcelain doll, her nanna had bought her for Christmas 2 years ago and her blue piggy bank from Spain, a gift from her Uncle Hamish, was put in a safe place on her dressing table, she opened the window as quietly as she could so no one would hear. She cocked her leg over the windowsill and slid out of the bedroom. She gripped the window ledge, wound her legs around the drainpipe, and slid down very slowly. The window wasn’t very high at all, which made things a lot easier.
“Move, you daft moggy,” she said. “Can’t you see I am trying to slide down the drainpipe, and you are in my way again,” Polly Mae almost shouted through gritted teeth.
The cat scampered away when he saw Polly Mae and hissed at her when he was at a safe distance. Polly Mae jumped the last meter or so and ran off, in a crouched position, with her head as low as possible so as not to be seen.
She darted behind a bush when she saw Mrs Pottle come out of her gate and walk towards her mum’s house. Now she knew she was safe because Mrs Pottle was the town gossip, even worse than Mrs Donkin, and could talk for hours without breathing—or so all her school friends said.
After Mrs Pottle had disappeared into her mum’s house, Polly Mae ran towards the beach. It was really great living near the sea because you could always find super places to hide from your mum and dad, or whoever happened to be mad at you at the time.
Portsoy had a great beach, with lots of hiding places. Several streets led to the beach, so it made for many quick and easy escapes. Her mum and dad would sometimes take her to Banff or Cullen beaches, which was great fun, and they would get a fish supper on the way home.
Portsoy Harbour was full of holidaymakers that flocked to the fishing village every year, especially when the annual boat festival was on. There were loads of people there so she could blend in quite easily.
She sat on the sand for a bit, making patterns with the toes of her shoes. Then, just out of the corner of her eye, she spotted William, a friend from school. She ran over to greet him.
“Hey, William. What are you up to?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just been to Graham’s house. Fancy hunting for treasure?” he asked.
“You’re a barm pot. There is no treasure on this beach,” snorted Polly Mae.
“Yes, there is so, and if you don’t come, I’ll go alone, so there,” William said in a huff.
“All right, all right…don’t get your pants in a twist,” Polly Mae said.
At least it was better than sitting alone.
William Stewart was eleven years old, and that made Polly Mae four months and two days older than he was, which in her eyes made her grown up—the boss so to speak. William had lived three doors down from Polly Mae for as long as she could remember, and they were best friends. William’s parents were originally from Ordiquhill, just outside Cornhill, and Cornhill was only six miles from Portsoy, so they had not moved far.
Polly Mae was glad William lived nearby. He was not only a good friend but also his mum was the school dinner lady, so she always got extra helpings of chocolate pudding with white sauce, which was her absolute favourite—or was it haggis neeps and tatties…or maybe even both! William spent most of his time down on the beach, sometimes going onto the fairground, and if he had any pocket money left, he would go on the waltzer until he felt sick. Many a time Polly Mae would laugh her socks off at William’s green face as he staggered off the rides at the fair.
They set off for the sand dunes, which had lots of bushes and long, spiky grass that really hurt if you touched the ends. Some of the blades were nearly as tall as they were. They began to search for buried treasure.
The sun was still high in the sky, so Polly Mae knew that they had lots of time before she had to sneak back home again. She smiled to herself thinking of where she should have been at this time.
They made their way to the old ice cream cabin. Long ago, you could buy twelve different flavours of ice cream and large cones with chocolate flakes in them for only 20 pence. It was a very rickety old cabin, but it was great to play games in, such as hide and seek or shops. It had a big, old wooden bench that was once used as a counter and lots of empty ice-cream boxes. There were tonnes of cobwebs hanging from the low ceiling, and it smelt of seaweed. All the kids loved to play there. Polly Mae opened the big door with a loud creak and gave it a push; William followed close behind. He was not as brave as Polly Mae claimed to be. They went inside and waited awhile until their eyes had got used to the dimness of the cabin.
“Pooh, it smells rotten,” William said, nose scrunched up in disgust.
“Oh, don’t act like a baby,” Polly Mae said. She pushed poor old William further into the room. William could hear a faint scratching noise.
“P-Polly M-Mae,” William stuttered. “I-it’s a g-g-ghost.”
“You silly billy, it must be a mouse or something,” she replied, giggling.
Still, Polly Mae thought she had better investigate the matter, and fast.
She moved an old chair with a strong push forward, her arms straight out to give her more strength as its stuffing hung out each side of the arms, seemed to make it heavier. The dust flew everywhere. The chair groaned, the floorboards creaked underneath her feet, threatening to swallow her up with the chair on top of her too! Polly Mae kicked away a pile of musty old newspapers with her foot and then got down on her hands and knees on the damp and dusty floor and peered into a hole in the wall, which was about as big as a football. She thought this was either an enormous mouse or the entrance to a secret cave that held gold and silver and pirate doubloons in big oak caskets with skull and cross bones laid neatly on the top, by some old landlubber
By now, poor William was standing on top of the old chair as the mouse started at him for just 2 seconds before the little mouse had scampered out of the hole, raced across the room, and ran right out of the open door, falling PLOP into the sand dunes.
“I forgot to tell you I’m scared of mice,” said a very shaky William.

DE ALMEIDA PRADO, AMADEU INÁCIO (1920-1973). Featuring in Pascal Mercier‘s philosophical novel Night Train to Lisbon (later adapted into a film starring Jeremy Irons), Amadeu de Prado was born a ju…

Source: ‘A Goldsmith of Words’-“Life” in the Words of Amadeu de Prado

Walking over Eggshells by Lucinda Clarke by Lucinda E. Clarke
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This was a difficult book to read. Not because it was it was a bad book by any means, but the subject matter was difficult as it’s was so close to my heart… the author takes us on a journey of the utmost emotions, who could not love a child? who could not hug a child? These things went through Lucinda’s mind very often indeed. Her, then husband Jeremy being the positive chaotic job seeking, job losing, husband, traveling from place to place with Jobs, new schools, houses, and countries varied. A very strong and emotional story, and I am so glad I actually met the author and at least give her a huge hug!!!
To find solace and love with her second husband was a wonderful way for the story to end.. but alas, the dreaded “mother” bit back even from beyond the grave causing more upset as usual.

A heart-rending account of a simply awful child and mother relationship!
Well written!!!

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Solstice by K.W. Keith
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Solana Trent, a beautiful vivacious New York Times Journalist, This is a fast-paced, steamy, story, with all the trappings of the mafia V reporter’s savvy intelligence, along with the devastatingly handsome acquisition mogul Raine Mathison… Near clashes with the Mafia from being the hunter to the hunted.
A strong protagonist throughout the story. Way to Go Solana….

A love story if ever I had read one..

Love the ending … (no spoilers)

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‘Why do I feel this way? If this is heaven – a feast laid out for a man with no sense of taste – I stagger to imagine a hell.’

In the late sixteenth century, Sam awakens in a divine land of inimitable beauty, where a unicorn grazes on the banks of a rainbow lake, but all he feels is emptiness. It is his own poetic vision of heaven, but the reality is hellish: his death, the day before his twentieth birthday, has separated him from the love of his life and his heart has left him. Consequently, he is condemned to spend all of eternity in this soulless place.

Sam’s meddling guardian angel, Athena, is desperate to atone for her role in his heavenly imprisonment and although she can’t send him back to his own life, she breaks all the rules by allowing him to be reincarnated again and again – as many times as it takes for him to find Fizz, the love of his life. Sam’s fate, however, was written by a higher power and death will continue to stalk him through every one of his incarnations. Only when he has solved the mystery of his original death and avoided the same fate in his new life can he and Fizz finally live in peace.

For 5 days this is free 🙂 enjoy

Finding Fizz on Amazon

I would like to wish, old friends and new, a very happy new year.. Peace and love and life’s tranquility and fun all at your doorsteps. So in the true spirit of starting anew, a fresh…  I quote this poem…

Have any of you had any experience with bad mannered or insulting Air stewards/stewardesses? On any airline?

Chapter 11: Water, Water Everywhere

They had smiled at each other, pressed their buttons, whooshed off into the swirling numbers and digital figures and that was the last they had seen of each other. There was no way of knowing how they had got separated. They just had.

Jodie had been so excited to visit the Titanic, but standing on the deck alone, the freezing cold, salty wind whipping at her face, she had never felt so alone.

‘Hey guys! You near me?’

Not a word in reply, just the whistling of the wind and the sound of the ship’s engine rumbling along the vast, ice-laden waters. Looking around at the empty, black night, she assumed that the ship was well into the voyage, and as it did not last many days, she wanted to find out which day it actually was! She didn’t know that for the first three days of the journey the passengers enjoyed mild weather and light winds. Then the temperature dropped from about 6 degrees Celsius to near freezing. The northwest winds behind the weather front also helped to steer a giant ice field toward the ill-fated ship.

She had put off coming to the Titanic because she didn’t want to come alone, and here she was on the freezing deck, as alone and scared as she had ever been. She considered taking out her card and leaving, but she had no idea where the boys were and couldn’t just leave in case they were in trouble. Then, to top it all, there was some sort of commotion close by. She moved nearer to see.

‘What is this boy doing hiding in here?’ she heard an angry man shouting and watched as he dragged poor Pacman out by the scruff of his neck.

‘I was playing hide and seek,’ Pacman said to the officer, hoping to deter him from asking for tickets or any form of identification. Pacman was always adept at wriggling out of sticky situations.

‘I assume you are from the third class cabins, young man?’

The passengers of the Titanic were strictly divided by their class which was an indication of what life was like at the beginning of the twentieth century. Sadly, the lower the class, the less chance passengers had of surviving.

Quick-minded as Pacman was, he said, ‘Yes, sir. G deck. Just playing, sir, to keep warm, you know.’

‘At this time of the night, young lad?’

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’

With that, he let Pacman go and he ran off in Jodie’s direction. He ran past, grabbed her hand and they both continued their dash, getting as far away from the officer as possible. They stopped by a railing with a view ahead of them as black and vast as the End of the World was white and never-ending.

When they had caught their breath, Jodie said, ‘Have you seen Kai?’ All thoughts of finding Charles Joughin, the man who drank the whiskey, were now far from her mind. Disaster was in the air – real danger – and they had no idea where their new little friend was.

‘Dunno if he even made it. I haven’t seen him. It’s flipping cold, you know. Your whiskey guy’s probably still drinking.’

If this was true then Charles Joughin was about to spill his whiskey down his front as the ship crashed into the iceberg. Jodie and Pacman were thrown across the deck by the impact and struggled to keep each other in sight. They finally linked hands and held onto the railing with every bit of strength they had. 

The Titanic made its fatal collision about 37 seconds after the sighting of the berg. The iceberg scraped the ship’s right side, buckling the hull in some places and popping out rivets beneath the waterline over a length of about 299 feet. This opened the first five compartments (the forward tank, the three forward holds and Boiler Room 6) to the sea.

The captain, startled by the jolt of the blow to the ship, went onto the bridge and ordered a full stop. Within ten minutes of the collision, the five front compartments had flooded to a depth of about 15 feet. As seawater filled the compartments at the front, the watertight doors automatically shut. However, the ship was designed to remain buoyant with the first four compartments flooded; the impact caused the flooding of the six forward compartments. The water-filled compartments weighed down the ship’s bow, allowing more water to flood the vessel, accelerated by secondary flooding as more openings in the ship’s hull became submerged.

Huddled together, Pacman and Jodie could do nothing but hold on tight as people started to fill the deck around them, screaming and running around, wondering what was happening.

Jodie screamed at Pacman over the noise of the water. ‘We need to cut this trip short!’

‘You don’t say!’ Pacman shouted back.

‘I read that the pumps could only cope with two thousand tons of water per hour; but that quantity was flooding into the liner every five minutes. We have to go, but we can’t go without Kai.’

‘We don’t even know if he’s here, Jodie. And he’s got a card like we have. He’s probably back at the End of the World, warm and dry, pigging out on mini quiches and cola.’

‘I know, but we have to make sure. Let’s stay and search for as long as we can and then we’ll go.’

‘Sounds good,’ Pacman agreed. ‘But we don’t have much time, you know the story as well as I do and this ship does sink you know! I’ve seen the film, got the cap and T-shirt.’ They were both shouting now to make their voices heard over the screams of the crowds and the natural din from beyond the ship – the sea and sky conspiring to terrorise the ship with a deep, guttural roar.

The two started their search, keeping together at all times, shouting for Kai. Pacman looked under benches, lifted boxes up, but it was getting difficult as the boat was swaying heavily, dogs and people running about, lifeboats launched. All they found were six more globestoppers, but they had no time to talk about how weird it was or what it all meant.

Someone shouted, ‘Women and children first,’ and people started queuing to get on, especially the polite British. Before the clock hit midnight, the forward third-class sections had started to flood. At around five past midnight, approximately twenty-five minutes after the impact, Captain Smith ordered all the lifeboats to be uncovered and swung out. A short while later, he ordered them to be loaded with women and children and lowered into the sea. At ten to one, Fourth Officer Joseph Boxhall fired the first white distress rocket.

Jodie and Pacman saw the distress rocket explode in the night air and light up the sky and knew that it was time to leave. They just had to hold on to the hope that Kai either hadn’t made it to the Titanic or he had left before they could find him. Maybe he landed on a different deck, was scared to be alone and decided to make a quick exit. Jodie and Pacman prayed that this was the case, but still couldn’t quite drag themselves away and continued to call his name. They were filled with a sense of hopelessness and loss as they did so, watching the panic unfold around them. There was nothing they could do to stop this happening; this was history being made – the worst non-war disaster of that century – and they were watching it play out right in front of their eyes.

A small puppy dog ran up to Jodie, looking bewildered, probably looking for its master. He was so small that she picked him up and popped him into her pocket. Time was running out. It would be a matter of minutes before the ship started to keel and sink.

Water splashed onto the deck as it started to roll back and forth. The dog slipped further into Jodie’s pocket and gently whined as the water got higher and the waves crashed onto the deck, which was now keeling over dangerously.

‘We have to go NOW!’ screamed Pacman. ‘Come on!’

Jodie watched as he pulled his card out and whooshed away from her into the swirling vortex. ‘I’m right behind you!’ she shouted and put her hand into her pocket to retrieve her card.

But it wasn’t there.

Frantically, she searched her other pockets. Nothing! The little dog stirred but would not come out. It had clearly found a new master. Her heart suddenly thumped in her chest so loud that she could hear it.

Has the dog eaten it? she thought, panic rising.

In the distance, she heard singing, an old hymn she had never heard before – Nearer My God to Thee. People were still frantically scurrying about and screaming and now it was clear that they had started to jump into the freezing water. By now the ship was on the water’s edge and slowly sliding in. People were toppling everywhere, some hanging onto the railings for their lives.

Jodie tucked her hand into her pockets and held onto the dog as she slid along the deck towards the water at a speed that she couldn’t control. This was it! It was all out of her power! The card was nowhere to be seen. She had been to the End of the World party, but now this really was the end of the world and all she could do was brace herself and hold onto the dog. And then – 3, 2, 1 – she was into the icy water with a terrifying splash. Her lungs felt as if they would explode; the water chilled her to her very soul. She had never been as cold and scared in her life. But as her body started to go numb and the little dog whimpered, out of her back pocket the card she so desperately wanted floated in front of her eyes; she saw the Fluxbridge Academy sign light up then go dark again. This was the only time that she had ever been pleased to see the school logo. She reached out to grab it, hope now battling with fear and cold, with the outcome uncertain. Within a second, which actually felt like hours, she had the wet card in her hand. She was just about able to move her frosty, numb fingers to press the buttons. All she could do now was hope with all her heart that it still worked