Wednesday, 13 September 2017


A short little something I wrote in my writers' group last night. An explanation at the end. 

A shrill sting at the back of his head and a dull ache at the front. A churning down below that couldn’t end well. Flick’s brain swayed like a gentle swell of a retreating tide. He tried to remember the night before, the raucous bar, the singing, Maggie sitting on his knee whispering promises to be delivered on condition of one sovereign bright. He tried to move his head but the pain shot through his skull as he remembered the constant flow of ale being brought by the young daughter of the innkeeper. Flick had crossed Maggie’s palm with the gold coin and they’d gone up stairs, ready to celebrate his first night back on dry land.  But that’s where the memories ended. The bit he most longed to remember was the bit that couldn’t be reclaimed. Had he passed out before he’d got value for money?
His nostrils filled with the stench of piss, sweat and vomit, he could hear groaning, was it his own? He wished the world would stay still for a minute so he could gather his thoughts. Clammy flesh touched his arm, was it Maggie? Too hairy for Maggie. A moan came from somewhere to his right. Flick prised his eyes open, total darkness suffocated him. He fought the nausea, swallowing hard to keep the contents of his stomach down. The constant motion wasn’t helping. but it was familiar, too familiar. Flick sat up and screamed a hoarse scream. Others moaned around him. In the gloom he could pick out seven, eight, nine other bodies. He didn’t have to remember now, he knew. He’d heard the stories but always thought they were made up by the clergy to discourage able seamen from temptations of the flesh. A door creaked open.
“C’mon you good for nothing scoundrels,” the men around Flick moaned and squirmed as buckets of water were thrown over them. “no more of your lazing, there’s work to be done.”

Background to the story.  

In 1861, Cardiff was a major dock, the population of Cardiff stood at 49000 people. While there were 420 prostitutes working in the Butetown area. 1% of the population of Cardiff were prostitutes. Many of these women were employed by crimps to drug or thug their clients who would wake up out to sea. This process was called being shanghaied.  

Don't forget, my two novels, Maggie's Milkman and Extraordinary Rendition are both available to buy as physical as well as ebooks books  So, if you fancy owning one of my novels, click on the links below and get your credit card out :-). Signed copies available from the author. 

Maggie's Milkman

Extraordinary Rendition.


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