Wednesday, March 4, 2009


OK it's time to be honest with you - I have been making every excuse under the sun not to get on with writing the novel. Everything  from 'the dogs need walking' to 'I've got to go down to London' to 'we're having the kids home for the weekend and I need to cook the fatted calf' but the truth is all  am doing is procrastinating - well that and writing something that is just fun and rather silly and didn't need any planning or research or even very much thought.  

So what does all this mean? It means that I'm a bad person and I'm sorry and I promise that I will give myself a good talking to and you can expect to see the fruits of my labours very soon.

In the meantime would you like to see how I wasted my time?

The Water Tower

Chapter 1

Harry pushed back the covers and gingerly swung his legs out of the bed. Maybe that late night run along the waterfront hadn't been such a good idea. Too many hours sitting in the office was beginning to take it's toll on his once honed physique. Padding through to the lounge Harry threw back the drapes and marvelled yet again at the spectacular view across the Mersey to the Silver Jubilee Bridge. Since the new Mersey Gateway Bridge opened the old bridge was now a mecca for the early morning joggers and cyclists taking advantage of the lack of traffic and the warm summer sun.

Harry's morning routine was always the same, fresh coffee made with his own blend of rich aromatic beans before his shower and then a healthy breakfast of freshly squeezed juice and two slices of wholemeal toast. Harry liked routine at home. His apartment in The Deck complex suited his personality, functional, trendy and floor to ceiling widows bathing the small apartment in sunshine.

After dressing carefully in his bottle green uniform, Harry tidied his bed and put his breakfast dishes into the waiting dishwasher. Satisfied that everything was in order he locked the front door and made his way to the underground car park. At this time in the morning he rarely saw any of his neighbours, he knew that most of them were City workers and wouldn't have to leave for work for another hour to catching the high speed links to Liverpool and Manchester. This suited Harry, he didn't like conversation this early in the morning, at least not until he was at work and even then only when necessary.

Unlocking his small white van Harry smiled yet again at the Dog Catcher legend on the side panel, the boss really did of a sense of humour he thought, and in their business they needed one. As usual the traffic was light along the four lane Expressway. Since the era of the Credit Crunch people were reluctant to make too many car journeys, high fuel prices mean fewer journeys as the Ministry of Information adverts sang out night after night on the TV, conserve fuel share your journey, all we need is 'bath with a friend' and we will have gone full circle back to the 1970's he laughed to himself.

Turning off the Expressway Harry made his way down the quiet suburban streets to his office at the Water Tower. If any of the local residents wondered why Halton's Dog Catchers were based at the Norton Water Tower they were far too polite to ask. 

When all the social housing in Windmill Hill had been replaced by the new executive gated communities a lot of the old community spirit had been replaced by a new feeling of place. Not so much community more a sense of I'm all right Jack, good jobs, nice houses and a Government that was living up to it's post Crunch promise of being there for the people, the chosen people, the New Middle Class or Nimcs as they had been labeled by the press. No longer would the affluent Nimcs have to share their space with the unemployed or low wage earners, the new social housing bill had seen to that and the North West Regional Assembly had designated North Warrington as the Social Housing area for the region. Everyone agreed that they were better off all in one place, it made sense, well at least to the Nimcs.

Harry parked his van in front of the stone cottage next to the Water Tower and placing the third finger of his left hand against print recognition panel on the front door, went inside. Theprevious residents of the cottage had long gone, replaced by a secure high speed lift down to the fortified sub basement level. Outside the lift Harry slipped off his green sweatshirt and replaced it with the freshly laundered white coverall that was ready waiting for him in his locker.

As he punched today's code into the security panel the airlock door hissed open and Harry walked down the corridor to his office under the Water Tower.

'Anything interesting in last night's log?'

Sally glanced over from her monitor 'Just two messages from control about the new Mexican oil reserves.'

'Has the Dow Jones started reacting yet?'

'Yes and the White House is looking at ways to 'help' the Mexican President with his expansion plans. Do you think that the Americans will ever learn that their expertise is worth jack shit these days?'

'Control calculates that it will take at least another generation.' laughed Harry as he settled himself at his work station and logged on. 'Unless one of the new post-crunch nations decides that they should be taught a lesson in humility'

to be continued (or maybe not)


Jimmy said...

I really enjoyed this! Love the premise. Stick 'em all in North Warrington!

Why would you build such an impressive water tower? Because there's a secret base under it, of course!

Joyce said...

I was going to make it the base of a giant transmitter that received messages from god but then the medication wore off....