Old Pipe Magpie# 27

The view was breath taking and everything in her stopped to take it in. The last few weeks had drained her deep down to her very soul and now with the beauty of the Italian lake in front of her, she knew she had been right to come here, to heal her mind. She took a look around the room, it was perfect and the pastel shades that made up the furnishings were soothing too. She opened the old oak wardrobe and started to hang up her clothes, too big now after all the weight she had lost, but in her hurried escape from London there was no time for shopping and as she thought, 'Italy was the country of haut couture, there was bound to be a small fashionable boutique in the local town. Money was no longer a problem what was the point of saving it?'

The small garden around the cottage had a table and chairs set out on a raised paved area overlooking the lake. Sitting there with the scent of the garden and the lake shimmering in the sunlight all her worries and cares seemed to be far away. 'Breathe in that air,' she thought, 'it could heal it was so clear and pure.'

The cottage was an old boathouse and part of a larger estate, perhaps there was a boat she could use, although would she be strong enough to row? she wondered.

She could see the steps down to the landing stage that protruded under the boathouse and making her way down them under the boathouse, she saw the cobwebs of years draped like curtains from  white beams, washed by the water of the lake. And there in the corner an old corroded water pipe, dirty and rusty. It was disgusting in contrast and spoiling the beautiful surrounds, just like the growth inside her; spoiling her, repulsive and old. She shivered and tears trickled down her face.

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The watering can.Magpietales #26

My grandfather had a galvanised watering can at his allotments; somewhere he took me through the long summer holidays. He wheeled me there in his wheelbarrow down the main road and then down a grass filled lane. It was a big five barred gate into the allotment and you could see his shed with number 27 painted on it in green paint from the gate. As soon as we got there he took off my clean dress and put a hessian sack on me instead, my dress was hung up inside the shed on a nail.
The days there were long and sunny and I played by the water butt. I was too small to lean over it and fill his watering can so he did that for me and then I walked slowly between the rows of vegetables and soft fruit trees, dragging the heavy can and spilling out the water as I went.

‘Thats right Cariad,’ he used to say. When it was midday we ate a jam sandwiches and drank the cold sweet tea from his little can. I think it was the one he had when he was down the mines. They were such happy days and we arrived home in time for our evening meal, laden with veg and black currants. My dress was inspected by my grand mother, and Granddad and I were relieved that it passed the clean test, except my knicks were filthy where I used to sit in the dirt to play. My days at my granddad's allotment stopped when I was eight when he died. How I was to know then that they would stay in my memory forever and ever, as being some of the happiest days in my life.

The Lock Magpie Tales#25

She walked back along the pavement to see him again, there he sat with his head down… ‘Come on,’ she thought, ‘lift up so I can see that strong chiselled chin!’ But he was writing away and obviously engrossed in whatever he was doing.
She noticed him the first time she had past the Estates Agents office window weeks ago, when she had seen her own reflection and admired slim self.
It had been hard to lose that extra weight but it was worth it, she must remind Jeannie not to cook that stodgy food again, she thought.

The young Estate Agent’s table was side wards on to the window so she could see him sitting there, straight backed and rather nice looking and tanned she noted. He had noticed her too, the girl with the shiny hair that bounced as she walked and who looked rather prissy.
The rain had started and she walked quickly to her car wondering how she could get to meet him… ‘Hang on,’ she thought as she drove off from the car park, ‘he’s an Estate Agent I could go in and pretend I am looking for a house.’

When she arrived back at the flat, Jeannie was already getting their evening meal and looking up at Patsy, she asked..’ Well did you see him again?’
‘I know what to do,’ she blurted out excitedly, ‘ We are going in to say we want a new house!’
‘Hang on there Patsy, what do you mean we?’
‘Well you want to help me, don’t you?’ she pouted.
‘Come and eat and we’ll talk about it,’ Jeannie replied. They talked as they ate and Jeannie agreed this time and once only that she’d go with Patsy.
‘So its all sorted for Saturday then?’ Patsy asked.
‘I’ll only come this once, ‘ Jeannie answered. ‘ And I mean that!’

Patsy smiled to herself, ‘good ‘ol Jeannie,’ she thought. She and Jeannie had been friends for several years.They had first met in college and were drawn to each other immediately. Jeannie wasn’t a pretty girl but her beautiful blue eyes made up for that. She had always been motherly towards Patsy and Patsy used to laugh at Jeannie’s need to please people.

Patsy was arrogant enough to think that she would bowl over Mr Estate Agent right away and the deceit of saying they wanted a new house would be forgotten. She drifted off to sleep thinking about him and woke the next day, Saturday full of expectation. She took a lot of care with her makeup brushed her hair till it shone and she looked at herself admiringly in the full length mirror, ‘Yes. she thought, ‘since she had insisted that Jeannie did some healthier meals she looked a lot better.‘ She dismissed the thought that she sometimes got herself a Big Mac in her lunch hours, how could lunches make you fat, every one knew it was the food you ate in an evening that was the cause of weight gain. Jeannie looked quite nice too and Patsy noticed she was wearing her better pair of jeans, the ones that made her big hips look quite slim.

‘Right ladies what can I do for you?’ he asked, as they ventured in through the Agents door.
‘We want a new flat, well actually it could be a new house.’ said Patsy, ’What  have you got to offer?’ Patsy noticed his name badge… Vince, …… um….she thought nice name!

‘Have you thought about price?’ he asked and his smile lit up his eyes.

Jeannie gave an upper limit and Patsy watched as he squatted down to get out some files from the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. What a tight little bum he had, she thought and blushed just thinking about it!
He stood up with a handful of leaflets and indicated for them to sit down.  They both sat on the edge of the chairs, Jeannie leaning over the desk to look at the house photos he had spread on the desk in front of them.

Patsy just looked at him and was a bit disappointed to see a thin balding patch on the crown of his head as he too leaned over. Never mind she thought the rest of him is gorgeous, right down to his feet. ‘He is so handsome and the man of her dreams’ …. She thought.

‘Would you like your daughter to see the ones with good sized second bedrooms Miss Frost?’ he asked and Patsy realised that he was talking to Jeannie and that he thought she was Jeannie’s daughter!
‘ I am not her daughter, ‘ she said quickly and rather sharply. ’We are just friends.’
‘Aaaa-ha I see,’ said Vince.
‘No you don’t at all, we are simply friends.’ and Patsy coloured as she reiterated the statement.
‘That’s fine, we get simple friends in here all the time.’ he laughed.
‘No you don’t see, we are friends that just happen to share a flat for financial reasons.’ Patsy almost yelled, her face now coloured red in anger.

This was not going at all as she had imagined and she wanted to leave but Jeannie was looking at one house he had shown her, with more earnest than Patsy thought necessary. Jeannie turned to Patsy. ‘What do you think of this one,’ she asked. And Patsy could have sworn that Jeannie winked at Vince!

‘Hang on Jeannie, have you forgotten why we came in here?’ she screamed and held back a few tears… what was wrong with Jeannie she thought, why was she being so serious about buying a house, they had come in so that she, Patsy could get to know Mr Estate Agent, Vince. He had been in her dreams for weeks now and she loved him!
She noticed how he was looking at Jeannie, the bitch, she was flirting with him, how dare she, Vince was hers, he was in her stars!  Then she saw his hand close over Jeannie’s and she nearly choked with rage. It was she who he should be taking notice of, it was she, who was the gregarious, sensitive and witty one, not Jeannie!
How could Jeannie do that to her?
Then she heard him say, ‘It would be perfect for a family, it’s a beautiful house, I am so glad you like my choice for you.’
Patsy saw Jeannie smile shyly with those bloody blue eyes,‘ I want lots of children, this house would be, as you said, perfect for a family.’ she simpered and Vince smiled back.
So ’What now Miss Frost, or can I call you Jeannie?’ he said ‘As he offered her the key to the house in the brochure. And Jeannie smiled her motherly smile back as she sighed with contentment.

How was Patsy to know that Jeannie and Vince had met weeks ago and this meeting today was pay back day for Jeannie. All those years that Patsy had taken her for granted and sponged on her were over, Vince and Jeannie were buying that house together, to set up home together, they were to be married she told Patsy.

And with that Patsy left the office, screaming how Jeannie had stolen her man, ‘Horrible people, horrible, horrible,’ she screamed inside her head ….. She stumbled across the road fuming and so mad thinking they could be right that moment putting the key into the lock of that house, poor me she thought, it should be me not Jeannie!

The Bed........ Magpie Tales#24

She lay on the bed and watched Steve walk from the shower room, the water droplets still on his thighs. He had told her last evening and now it didn’t seem real. How could it be that he was going? She thought back to the previous month when all was well and they had lain in that same bed together, their life raft he had called it, planning the week ahead. Their two children had been conceived in that bed, she had loved, laughed and cried with him in the same bed and now, he said he was going.

She knew when it had happened, she had watched him and their new neighbour’s daughter, when Elise had walked in that evening, Steve had stopped talking to their friends and looked at her, it was like electric. Claire had seen her too and watched Steve who stood as though he was in trance. His eyes followed Elise and she knew that he was watching. She flicked her hair off her face and tucked it behind her ears, it was the most graceful movement Steve thought that he had ever seen and he went towards her. From across the room Claire watched as her husband fell slowly in love with another woman and there was nothing she could do.

She turned on her side and watched as he struggled into his jeans his legs still damp.

‘Will we see you at the weekends, the boys will miss you?’

He turned and faced her, his face still the same face, but now to her a stranger.

‘Of course,’ he relied, ‘I ‘ll want to see them I will miss them too.’

It was on her tongue to say, ‘ So don’t go.’ But she didn’t, his heart was no longer hers and she didn’t want him without it.

From the bed she heard the front door close and with its closing, her life had closed too.

‘Perhaps I’ll get myself a new bed, this has too many memories,’ she thought.

But she knew she wouldn’t, if all she had, was memories she wasn’t going to give those up as well. She turned her face into the pillow smothering her sobs and wondered how she would face each day without him, perhaps he would remember how it was once, when she was the one that caught his glances, perhaps he’d tire of Elise, and when he did perhaps he’d come back, perhaps.......?

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Fire Extinguisher... Magpie Tales#23

Mary quickly drew back from the window in the Card shop as Doris crossed the road. She had that determined look of someone on a mission. Perhaps it wasn’t the card shop she was aiming for, but no the bell pinged as the door opened.

‘Hello my dear, are you hiding from me?’

‘Not at all,’ said Mary as she came from behind the counter. ‘How are you these days Doris?’

‘Well I mustn’t grumble, aches and pains that come with age, you know. But never mind about me, how is your husband, we haven’t seen him at the Writer’s Group for a few weeks now. Not since Willow used a fire extinguisher as a writing prompt. I found it hard myself to come up with an idea of what to write about, but Ted was always one of the first to imagine the most exciting of stories from the most mundane of things. But what could you say about a fire extingisher? It wasn't like your Ted to skip a story because it was too ordinary, he was a very clever writer, I thought.'she added.

‘I think you must be mistaken Ted has been every week since it first started,’ Mary answered. ‘He was one of the founder members.’ And she remembered exactly how Ted looked when he had left for the Writers Group the previous evening, his step had a spring in it as he walked down the front path, turning to wave good bye to her when he reached the gate. In fact, since he had been attending the group, he had almost seemed younger and a lot more attentive to her.

‘I was only saying to Evelyn that it has been awhile since Ted had been at the group and she agreed.’ insisted Doris. And it was Evelyn who remarked that that nice young Lily who wrote the poetry hadn’t attended for a while too. I expect its just coincedence and Ted's lost interest in our little writer's group'

Mary tried to look unruffled, but Doris’s words had stuck home and she knew that the old gossip had deliberately come to tell her about Ted’s absences at the group.
'Yes I think you're right there and he's been to the pub instead waiting for the right moment to tell me,...  and now you’ll have to excuse me Doris I have this card order to finish before I close the shop this evening,’ she said opening the door for her and turning the sign to ‘Closed.’

‘Good bye my dear,’ said Doris, ‘do tell your lovely hubby I was asking about him.’

‘I will, oh yes I will, I most definitely will’ answered Mary as she closed the door. She went into store room and sat down heavily on the chair shaking with anger. She didn’t know what made her more angry, the discovery that her husband was a no good two timer or the way Doris had looked when she was informing her about his non attendance. No wonder he always looked so happy when he was leaving the house on Tuesday evenings, and what about that weekend away last month when he was supposed to be going to a Mills and Boon Writer's Weekend Workshop?
'Very important,' he had said, 'for good male writers to get the women’s angle in stories and what better way than a workshop on writing Romantic Stories.'

Mary felt sick, I ‘ll give him Romantic Stories, she thought. ‘He’ll wish he had never heard of the Writers Group. I expect they all knew about him and that 'Miss.'Isn’t it true the wife is always the last to know.

Tomatoes Magpie Tales#22

Seductive harlot red colour,

Sensuous, slightly sweet flesh,

Bursting with juicy splendour.

Labelled the devil's fruit,

A sinful indulgence.

Bright ruby red,

With aphrodisiac powers

Scandalous.

The Love Apple.

Tempting,

Adam and Eve.

The forbidden fruit that lost Eden

Firecrackers Magpie Tales #21

The fire crackers going off hid the sound of the gun shot and it wasn’t till the man fell to the ground that anyone knew what had happened.  Suddenly the crowds of people separated as the police cars arrived.
Immediately they started to ask people nearby what they had seen and put up a police tape to cordon off the area. The body had fallen into the long grass along side the pathway and it seemed he was alone as no one was there with him.

Betsy had run as soon as she saw him fall, although she had no idea what had happened. They had gone to the open air Concert together and the firecrackers were part of the final act.

George was only a friend but he was always cagy as to what he did and she thought he was part of some dodgy business. She once had seen his emails when she had called around his flat and he had quickly closed the page, but not before she could see that it was in a foreign, language which she thought was Russian.

He did have a slight accent, but had always said he was from Yugoslavia and she had accepted that. Now she wondered where and what he was from. She, like those around her hadn’t heard anything above the firecrackers but went stone cold when George suddenly dropped down to the ground and before others around her had had a chance to see what had happened, she had quickly knelt and could see in the dim light of dusk that George was very much dead. She didn’t need to be told to leave right away and it was others around her that had phoned for the police.

Back in her own flat she switched on the TV to see if it had already been reported or was there a news flash but the programmes were as advertised and no news reports. She threw her jacket over the back of a chair and poured herself a stiff drink, she was still afraid and felt shivery. The chair was comfortable and with the drink and the stress of the event her eyes closed.

The ringing of her phone brought her out of a deep sleep and snatching it up she said a sleepy ‘Hello’

‘Is that Betsy,’ said the voice, in an accent not unlike George’s.

‘Yes,’ she replied rather hesitantly.

‘We saw you with George, before he was killed, did he give you the computer disc?’

‘What disc?’ she asked quite frightened.

‘Don’t mess me around, we know he passed it to someone and you were the last person with him. We will be calling around to collect it, so don’t try to leave we will find you. We found George and he was dealt with, so be ready’ said the man.

Bestsy dropped the phone and panic set in, she had no idea what this person was talking about. George was just a friend she had met in the coffee bar around the corner from her flat a few months ago, and it was he that suggested they went to the concert. Now she was in fear of her life. She grabbed her jacket and left the flat ready to get to the nearest police station, there were plenty all round London, so not too far to go. Putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket she felt something suspiciously like a computer disc and her heart started to thump. Along the road there was a taxi was just idling as though he had just dropped a fare ‘Betsy peered into the cab and asked, ‘ Are you free please?’

‘Ok hop in lady,’ he said.

‘Thank you, oh thank you, can you please take me to the nearest police station?’ She said as she sat down.

‘Now that might be a problem little Betsy,’ he said.

Betsy froze, she tried the door handle and it was locked, she was inside with the very people she was trying to get away from.

The taxi had stopped down a side road and the driver looked at her in his mirror.. ‘People like you shouldn’t mess with things you don’t know about. ‘ he said.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said.

‘Come, come,’ he answered, ‘Georgio had said he had an accomplice, he didn’t have the disc on him, that’s why he had to be eliminated... now unless you cooperate you will be joining him.’

Betsy started to scream and the driver turned in his seat and hit her across her head, she fell forward on to the floor of the cab hitting her head hard on the door handle.. ‘Silly girl’ he thought ‘Now how am I to explain to the big boss that I am the cause of two bodies and no disc? I just hope the police won’t find out too much about Georgio and it lead back to this girl.’ And he put his cab into gear and drove off towards the river. ‘That river had hidden other mistakes he had made,’ he thought and this one body will be just one more.

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