Friday, April 17, 2009
Is it wrong to leave this for a while?
Monday, March 23, 2009
Here's the thing
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Chapter1,2
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Chapter 1,1
Today of all days he couldn’t afford to be late leaving work. With the noise of the hectic A&E Dept still ringing in his ears and the adrenalin of one too many cups of lukewarm coffee cursing through his veins, SHO Dominik Napier was determined that he would be at the hotel in plenty of time to meet his Grandfather.
Dom had been looking forward to this weekend ever since his Grandpa had phoned to say that he was coming up to Liverpool and not even the sound of yet another ambulance pulling up outside was enough to stop him rushing to the Doctors’ room to change from his scrubs.
When Dom was a little boy, Max loved to tell his only Grandson tales of his childhood growing up on the family farm outside Warsaw The hot endless summers spent playing in the woods with his big brothers and the cold winter nights huddled around the fire listening to his Mother playing the piano. Dom would listen and long for the day when he was old enough to visit his Grandpa’s homeland, never realising that it wasn’t only people who were casualties of war, whole countries suffered too.
As he pulled his holdall out of his locker Dom was startled when the Sister in charge of A&E came crashing through the door.
‘Dom, thank God you haven’t left yet, we’ve an emergency just arrived.’
‘ Not tonight’ he groaned ‘where’s Cathy? You know I wanted to get away on time.’
‘Cathy has been called down to ITU. Come on Dom there’s nobody else; do you want this old bugger to die?’
‘As you asked so nicely Sister how can I refuse’ said Dom putting his stethoscope back around his neck. ‘Where is he?’
Reluctantly following the Sister into the end cubicle Dom looked at horror at the old man lying on the trolley. His face was the colour of wax and the telltale droop to his mouth indicated that this poor old chap had suffered a massive stroke. Dom gently took hold of old man’s hand as he looked up at the nurse and said.
‘Can you call Mr Grogan down please; I think that my Grandfather needs some help here.’
‘Oh Dom I’m so sorry I didn’t realise, I just thought he was some old chap.’
‘Well you weren’t wrong Sister, he is some old chap, it’s just that he happens to be my old chap.’ Said Dom turning to hide the tears that he knew were well up in his eyes.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Mind Mapping
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Procrastination
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)
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Unblocked
For days now I have been in a literary no mans land.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Writers Block
Friday, January 30, 2009
I miss my Mum and Dad
Monday, January 26, 2009
Try the ONS.....
giving notice in the second world war. For the purposes of taking a notice
of marriage in the 1930's and 1940's the Superintendent Registrar had to be
satisfied that the information supplied by each person was correct.
However, I can confirm that there was no legislation that required
documentary evidence to be supplied to support the information given.
I am afraid I cannot advise on the requirements of a refugee to be allowed
to enter the United Kingdom during the second world war. Perhaps the
National Archives, or the Red Cross may be able to help.
Yours sincerely
Marriages and Civil Partnerships Casework Manager