This book was the effort put into the last NaNoWriMo November 2023 exercise. I have now picked it back up, and working on a more polished first draft for the Editor.
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Facing the music
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With the altercation at the bar spreading like fire through a tinder-dry forest, our boy goes home to see Darcy.
Yes, she already knew what was going on, and no she’s not happy, and yes, she is overjoyed that our boy will be marrying Emily.
Talk about mercurial relatives.
Then there’s that little gathering that Darcy has arranged where he can get roasted for his sins.
And from one person in particular, Xavier, who positively hates her and all her friends.
Like our boy, he had been treated badly by the girl and her friends, and having someone who was her friend wasn’t going to improve his lot. But he did agree to be the best man.
It was not going to be a late night.
The next morning there’s a mission, he has to go and see shotgun Annie.
Yes, you heard it right, shotgun Annie.
Tim’s staunchest female ally, but there is a problem. Just another of many he has to get past.
50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.
They all start with –
A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:
And, the story:
Have you ever watched your hopes and dreams simply just fly away?
Everything I thought I wanted and needed had just left in an aeroplane, and although I said I was not going to, i came to the airport to see the plane leave. Not the person on it, that would have been far too difficult and emotional, but perhaps it was symbolic, the end of one life and the start of another.
But no matter what I thought or felt, we had both come to the right decision. She needed the opportunity to spread her wings. It was probably not the best idea for her to apply for the job without telling me, but I understood her reasons.
She was in a rut. Though her job was a very good one, it was not as demanding as she had expected, particularly after the last promotion, but with it came resentment from others on her level, that she, the youngest of the group would get the position.
It was something that had been weighing down of her for the last three months, and if noticed it, the late nights, the moodiness, sometimes a flash of temper. I knew she had one, no one could have such red hair and not, but she had always kept it in check.
And, then there was us, together, and after seven years, it felt like we were going nowhere. Perhaps that was down to my lack of ambition, and though she never said it, lack of sophistication. It hadn’t been an issue, well, not until her last promotion, and the fact she had to entertain more, and frankly I felt like an embarrassment to her.
So, there it was, three days ago, the beginning of the weekend, and we had planned to go away for a few days and take stock. We both acknowledged we needed to talk, but it never seemed the right time.
It was then she said she had quit her job and found a new one. Starting the following Monday.
Ok, that took me by surprise, not so much that it something I sort of guessed might happen, but that she would just blurt it out.
I think that right then, at that moment, I could feel her frustration with everything around her.
What surprised her was my reaction. None.
I simply asked where who, and when.
A world-class newspaper, in New York, and she had to be there in a week.
A week.
It was all the time I had left with her.
I remember I just shrugged and asked if the planned weekend away was off.
She stood on the other side of the kitchen counter, hands around a cup of coffee she had just poured, and that one thing I remembered was the lone tear that ran down her cheek.
Is that all you want to know?
I did, yes, but we had lost that intimacy we used to have when she would have told me what was happening, and we would have brainstormed solutions. I might be a cabinet maker but I still had a brain, was what I overheard her tell a friend once.
There’s not much to ask, I said. You’ve been desperately unhappy and haven’t been able to hide it all that well, you have been under a lot of pressure trying to deal with a group of troglodytes, and you’ve been leaning on Bentley’s shoulder instead of mine, and I get it, he’s got more experience in that place, and the politics that go with it, and is still an ally.
Her immediate superior and instrumental in her getting the position, but unlike some men in his position he had not taken advantage of a situation like some men would. And even if she had made a move, which I doubted, that was not the sort of woman she was, he would have politely declined.
One of the very few happily married men in that organisation, so I heard.
So, she said, you’re not just a pretty face.
Par for the course for a cabinet maker whose university degree is in psychology. It doesn’t take rocket science to see what was happening to you. I just didn’t think it was my place to jump in unless you asked me, and when you didn’t, well, that told me everything I needed to know.
Yes, our relationship had a use by date, and it was in the next few days.
I was thinking, she said, that you might come with me, you can make cabinets anywhere.
I could, but I think the real problem wasn’t just the job. It was everything around her and going with her, that would just be a constant reminder of what had been holding her back. I didn’t want that for her and said so.
Then the only question left was, what do we do now?
Go shopping for suitcases. Bags to pack, and places to go.
Getting on the roller coaster is easy. On the beginning, it’s a slow easy ride, followed by the slow climb to the top. It’s much like some relationships, they start out easy, they require a little work to get to the next level, follows by the adrenaline rush when it all comes together.
What most people forget is that what comes down must go back up, and life is pretty much a roller coaster with highs and lows.
Our roller coaster had just come or of the final turn and we were braking so that it stops at the station.
There was no question of going with her to New York. Yes, I promised I’d come over and visit her, but that was a promise with crossed fingers behind my back. After a few months in t the new job the last thing shed want was a reminder of what she left behind. New friends new life.
We packed her bags, three out everything she didn’t want, a free trips to the op shop with stiff she knew others would like to have, and basically, by the time she was ready to go, there was nothing left of her in the apartment, or anywhere.
Her friends would be seeing her off at the airport, and that’s when I told her I was not coming, that moment the taxi arrived to take her away forever. I remember standing there, watching the taxi go. It was going to be, and was, as hard as it was to watch the plane leave.
So, there I was, finally staring at the blank sky, around me a dozen other plane spotters, a rather motley crew of plane enthusiasts.
Already that morning there’s been 6 different types of plane depart, and I could hear another winding up its engines for take-off.
People coming, people going.
Maybe I would go to New York in a couple of months, not to see her, but just see what the attraction was. Or maybe I would drop in, just to see how she was.
As one of my friends told me when I gave him the news, the future is never written in stone, and it’s about time you broadened your horizons.
You will not go outside, you will not go to the movies.
The word not, when used by your parents when you are a child is the key in the lock keeping you from having fun.
It is the very definition of everything negative, and much harsher than just a plain no.
That you will ‘not…’ has been the gateway for many an exploit or adventure, because anything you have done contrary to the ‘not’ is all that much sweeter.
Until you get into trouble, but, then, isn’t that how you learn life’s lessons?
But if you are a programmer like me, not takes on a whole new meaning in a language like,
‘If not like …. then’
meaning in layman’s terms if something isn’t like a specific value then do something else.
Hang on, isn’t that a bit like reality?
This is not to be confused with the word Knot which is,
A blemish in a piece of wood
The speed of a ship, winds, and sometimes a plane
But basically,
Something you tie to keep your shoes on, or around your finger to remind you to tie your shoes before getting on the 36-knot high-speed ferry made of knotty wood.
It is also something you find in tangled hair and is very painful trying to remove it.
It is also an unpleasant tightness in body muscles and you need a masseuse to get rid of them.
It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.
John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.
So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?
That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.
What should have been solace after disappointment, turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.
He suddenly realizes his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.
The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where, in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.
All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.
Over the main, and desert, I told her about Siena and the Palio, painting a vivid picture of horsemanship and rivalry over the course of several hundred years, making it sound so much better than it was.
It the heat, the tight confines of the square, and the large number of people crammed in, it could be quite oppressive.
It wasn’t until after coffee arrived I decided to take a different tack and surprise her.
“You know, back in the old days, when I was working a desk, I used to do research on criminals for task forces. I longed to get out in the field, but back then you had to be a particular sort of bastard to get those jobs. I just didn’t have that mean streak.”
“Any I might know of?”
“One that springs to mind, Larry Pomisor, head of the so-called Waterville gang, though as an organization, is went downhill quickly after Larry’s father died and he took over.”
I’d been watching her carefully, and, yes, no matter how hard people tried to mask their surprise, it never works. I got the hit I was looking for.
“You’re saying he’s not a crime boss?”
“Exactly. He’s little better than a complete moron. Blames me for the death of his brother, failing to understand that he is ultimately responsible. If he hadn’t dragged him into the business, he’d still be alive today.”
“Why would he blame you?”
“He thinks I was at the scene of his brother’s death but whoever told him got their dates mixed up. But Larry is nothing if not pathological in his beliefs no matter how wrong they are.”
I could see she was processing how to deal with this turn of events. Being handed to her on a plate, exactly what Larry wanted me to talk about, I could see she was mid-way between confused and surprised. In other words, off guard.
She now had to come up with questions that were not obvious.
“Not exactly the sort of enemy you want, then.”
“No more than any of the others I’m sure are waiting in line. I was there, yes, but not when his brother was killed, he was alive when I left. It was a meeting his brother called, and we believe he was going to inform on Larry, and Larry had him killed, then pinning the blame on us, and me in particular. His brother never wanted anything to do with Waterville, but Larry never gave him the option.”
“I can’t believe that he would do that, not to his brother. No one would do that to family.”
“Like I said, everything I learned about Larry pointed to the fact he was a moron. His father hated him, and his mother moved to be as far from him as possible. She lives in Sorrento you know. His father was a piece of work, and I first met him on a domestic call-out when their neighbors reported gunshots. She had taken a beating, not the first, and not the last, and I had to say, I’d never seen anyone more relieved when the old man died.”
I wondered what Larry was making of this if he was listening in. He had once told me, in passing, in one of many visits to the parent’s house to intervene, that he would kill his father if he didn’t stop.
But, Larry was all talk and no action and did nothing to stop it. In the end, it was his wife Gabrielle, who finally ended the violence.
When it happened she called me, the most familiar face, and told me what happened. I then told her what to do, and it eventually kept her out of jail. Over the years since our paths rarely crossed, but significantly I was on her Christmas card list.
She had, when she learned I was living in Venice incited Violetta and I over for tea, and we went a few times, but the last was a long time ago.
“He doesn’t blame you for that too foes he?”
“Probably, but Gabrielle can put him straight on that. I should go and see her, it’s been a while.”
“What do you mean? Go see Larry’s mother?”
“Why not? The chances of Larry being there are remote. It’ll have to be after Cecilia goes back home. You want to come, see a bit more of Italy?”
“What?”
The shock of the conversation direction had finally caught up with her. I’d seen her glancing more than one at her phone, and equally wondering what Larry was making of it.
“Go see Larry’s mother. We’re old friends. I’m sure she’d give him a stern talking-to if she knew he wanted me dead, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to see.”
“Of course. Too short notice.”
I gave her one of my winning smiles, just as Cecilia loomed out of the darkness and came over, dropping heavily into the seat next to me, and complaining, “Well, that was a spectacular waste of time and effort.”
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 