Thursday, 22 October 2015

Different Views - Different voices

As an exercise in class on Monday, we had to write the same story from a different person's point of view. 
This is Tuesday's story from 2 different angles. For Tuesday's story click here
For audio click here

Mrs Wilson 
I told myself to be calm, he was dead and that was that. It wasn’t that I’d killed him; his heart just wasn’t strong enough to cope with my demands. Shame really, I’d rather hoped trading in Bert for a younger model would satisfy my needs, but Eric was dead and I wasn’t satisfied.
 Anyway, I lugged Eric down the stairs and out into the garden and dragged him into the hole. The last thing Bert had done before leaving was to dig that bloody hole. To be honest that was the final straw, he never did anything around the house when I wanted him to but when he decided he wanted a fishpond, he was straight down to B and Q.  
So the half finished fishpond became Eric’s final resting place. Yes, I could have called the police, but then everyone down the Derby and Joan club would have known about Eric and me. Oh the scandal, and poor Bert, what would he think? Not to mention Edna, Eric had told her he was on a fishing trip.
I stood there looking at poor old Eric for a moment, a bead of sweat ran down my face.
I started filling in the hole when there was a noise over my shoulder. It made me jump. For the first time since his heart stopped, I was scared.  But I remembered what my father told me; in an emergency - act natural.
That young lad from next door was smiling at me. If it had been Mavis from the other side, then I would have been in a spot of bother, but that young Joe is a bit simple if you ask me, head in the clouds. Do you know, I’m not sure he even noticed it wasn’t Bert down there?
‘Can I give you a hand,’ he said as if burying a dead man in the garden at 6.30 a.m. was the most natural thing to do.
‘Oh thank you, if it’s not too much trouble.’ I said, well, why wag the tail yourself when there’s a man to do it.
I’m not completely heartless, I made him a cup of tea for his troubles. He did a wonderful job with the grave I must admit.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. ‘Anything I can do?
A thought crossed my mind, no, he was too young for an old woman like me.
I just wanted him gone.
‘Oh look it’s time for the Archers,’ I said. I’ve never listened to the Archers’ in my life, no idea if it was even on at that time, I just wanted to get rid.  I just hope I can trust him to keep shtum.

Mr Wilson
I saw that young lad that I used to live next door to. Joseph I think his name is. He’s a funny fella, looked as white as a ghost he did, stumbled over his words, could hardly look me in the eye. 
‘But you’re…’ he said.
I guess he knew about me and Marjorie splitting up, Those youngsters don’t expect us oldies to go our separate ways. He was acting like I was dead or something. Just because two people split up, it doesn’t mean life is over - trust me.
‘You only live once,’ I said, ‘no point being unhappy.’ I was trying to put him at ease, but I don’t think it worked. He scuttled away like he’d seen a ghost.
Mind you, I’m glad he didn’t see who was waiting for me outside the Post Office. I can’t imagine the look on his face if he’d seen my younger woman. Old Edna’s only 65 and full of the joys of spring. Imagine the scandal at the Derby and Joan club if they found out that I was having a little bit of slap and tickle with Eric’s wife. What a cad Eric turned out to be, running away without a word; he’s probably got a bit of skirt somewhere, sly bugger. But Edna’s not too upset, she told they hadn’t had any for 10 years before he ran off, but she’s still game, I can tell you.

Anyway, I am glad Joseph didn’t see us together, he might have told Marjorie and that wouldn’t have been nice. I still like her you know, we were together 52 years after all.


  1. I love the different thoughts and reactions of the characters and the fact that each person knows a different piece of the puzzle. Really enjoyed that:-) When I thought whio is in the ground one of my versions was that must have been a lover. I thought, however, it must have been Mr Wilson's lover, murdered by Mrs Wilson out of jealousy:-)
    P.S. I have never seen the word 'shtum' in my life:-)

    1. Thank you, this was actually an exercise for my course. Interesting doing it. I did it before with a story called Balls I think.

    2. Yes, you did it before. The one I remember well was MOHICAN. But there were others too

  2. Petra Goláňová24 October 2015 at 10:07

    My favourite lines:
    Shame really, I’d rather hoped trading in Bert for a younger model would satisfy my needs, but Eric was dead and I wasn’t satisfied....
    Are you okay?’ he asked. ‘Anything I can do?
    A thought crossed my mind, no, he was too young for an old woman like me....
    He scuttled away like he’d seen a ghost....