Words that never make it into print.

SSometimes the stories we write within the novel don't make it into print, this is one part of many that were sent to the trash can when editing Toby Farrier. I had a lot of fun with both of these characters and hope to be able to draw on them again one day.

Helen Sabo waited as William Wyatt opened the door of the MG for her. It had been a long while since someone had treated her as a lady. He’d been respectful, and listened to what she said. When his hand fell into the middle of her back to guide her to their table it felt warm, and strong, yet his touch was gentle. Yes, she thought, I could get used to this.

The low seats and the high heels of her borrowed shoes conspired with her dress to make it difficult to move out of the MG’s seat. William held his hand out to help. She took it, and felt him hold her weight as she tried her best to be graceful. She saw the slats at eyelevel of the narrow venetian blind by the front door open. It was only slight, but she knew they had an audience. The light distracted her and as she stood, her foot slipped on the kerbing and she fell forward.

Willy caught her. ‘Hey, did you hurt yourself? Is your leg okay?’

It had been a warm night, but the ride home in the open car had chilled her a little. His arms were warm and she rested against him and caught her breath.

‘I’m fine, just not used to being swept off my feet by a handsome man in an English sports car, I guess.’ Did she say that, God she was making a fool of herself and why, she should be mature enough to have dinner with a friend?

‘I haven’t worn heels for a long time. I had better go in, we have an audience.’

‘An audience?’ Willy felt his heart race, he hadn’t sensed this since he was a kid. The thought of being caught out of character was exciting, he liked the adrenalin rush. ‘Who and how?’

‘When I slipped, I saw the blind open and I think my mate, Silvia, is busting to find out how we went.’

‘Is she nosey?’

‘Not nosey, concerned, and she will want to know every detail from tonight, right down to what colour the napkins were.’

‘Details, all of them?’ His mind was racing he wanted to stay out here and talk for longer, but knew she had to go.

‘Yep, Silv does like details.’ She felt his arms around her still and leant back against them. This bloke works out a bit, she thought, his stomach felt hard and flat.

She smiled, ‘It won’t be too hard to tell her what a great night we’ve shared. I had a great time, thank you.’

She wanted to tell him more, but he moved her to one side, she was now looking up at him. He bent forward and kissed her. She felt startled for a second and pulled away.

‘For Silvia.’ He said.

‘For Silvia.’

He knew she agreed, as he felt her hand in his hair pulling him down to her lips. A car went past and tooted its horn, they didn’t care. They broke their clinch, and looked at each other.

‘For Silvia.’ He said, raising an imaginary glass.

‘To Silvia, my best friend.’ She toasted too. ‘Thanks Will, I’d better go now.’

‘I’ll walk you to the door then.’

She put a hand on his chest and kissed his cheek. ‘No, look you’ve been sweet enough. I had a great time tonight thank you.’

‘Me too, I haven’t been out for years, not on a date anyway.’

Helen turned and sauntered toward the front door. He waited leaning against the front fender of the car. He watched every slow step and with each movement his grin grew. Before Helen had her key in the front door, it opened and he saw an arm drag her inside.

The door closed and heard hushed voices, their excitement filled the house. He walked around the back of the car, opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. He turned the radio on, and easy listening music carried him home.

#editing

#writing

#TobyFarrier

#stories

#romance
#

Writing and research, why is it so difficult to let go?

Over the past week I have been trying to research a South African Hotel that was the playground of the jet set up until the eighties. Although a motor racing fan, my quest was not for an expose on the lives of the many Formula 1 drivers who based themselves at the Kyalami Ranch for the South African Grand Prix, but as it was an International Hotel, the subject of my biography also stayed there.

Kyalami Ranch, from my research was set up by a former bomber captain who had served in WWII and saw the need for a modern hotel, where International Airlines could accommodate their cabin crews when on layover before there next assignments. The fact that it was a short way from the Kyalami race track added to its mystique.

Wandering the manicured grounds in the sixties, sharing luxurious accommodation and the heady mix of exotic people from all over the world must have been similar to attending a party thrown by "The Great Gatsby". Which after the end of apartheid, may be why the hotel has slipped out of the reach of the internet.

I have left a few links for those who are as intrigued as I am.

https://www.mclaren.com/racing/heritage/south-africa-72---40-years-ago-today/

https://www.pinterest.dk/pin/308778118195061902/?nic_v1=1aSylGRAhlWcq4zC45%2FJBNhZ55SofaUEJEYHb2Al56oZi9PXrt1NjslRXfndFWppqH

http://www.thepaddockmagazine.com/rip-kyalami/

https://www.classicdriver.com/en/article/cars/golden-years-kyalami

A Poem from researchers and seafarers too.

And now for something a little older, research of South Africa has drawn me to this poem by Luis de Camoes from 1572 called Lusaids

If you want to know how the masters write, read this:


https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32528/32528-h/32528-h.htm

#writers #poets #sailors #SouthAfrica

Smudge a view of himself

The only thing my father gave me was his name and my mother called me Silas. Most people call me Smudge. Ever since I was a kid my dream was to race on the European Grand Prix circuits, but where does one get the knowledge you need, trapped in a backwater like Crystal Springs.

I was working on my race car, Psycho, a few Fridays ago when I heard a commotion coming from the pub across the road. I had to bend to get a good look through the open door to the bar so I could see what was happening. A shearing team were celebrating their cut out from Yap-Yap Station. One of them had Charlie by the collar and she was kicking and screaming at him to put her down.

Charlie, bloody kid, only eleven years old and seen more of life than someone three times her age. Anyway, she’s up to her old tricks raising money for the car club. I see some of myself in her sometimes, she’s trapped here too. Unloved by her mother and has never known her father, but Charlie loves cars and I let her dream in the same way I did. Sometimes I catch her sitting behind the wheel and I know she’s driving the tracks of the world in her mind. I hear her making gear change noises and it makes me smile. Given half a chance this kid could be someone special. She is special. I have heard the gossip and it might have hurt before, but I am her friend, someone she can talk to.

Had a girl of my own once, Lilly. Prettiest little bundle of precious I ever held, but it wasn’t to be. Wilms Tumour the doctors said, we tried everything, today most kids survive this cancer, not Lil.

Ripped Ruby’s heart out from then our life together was never the same. She found excitement in the arms of a man who used her as a punching bag. I visit every Wednesday, I don’t think she knows me, but I go anyway, hoping she’ll come out of her coma and smile. She doesn’t deserve to live this way, but after the divorce she has no one to make those sort of decisions for her. I guess had we stayed together, I would be agonising over turning off the machines. Oh I tell her everything and I’m sure somewhere in there she hears me, if not it helps me I guess.

Anyway back to the Friday night, its late and I get a call from the Peterborough police, the little bugger has got down there somehow and they want me to pick her up and take her home. I act up a bit, but decide to go anyway. When I take her to her mother’s place, that useless prick Kevin is there. Long story short, the kid comes home with me and stays in Lilly’s room. Terri storms in and accuses me of all sorts of shit. That day there’s an accident and the authorities let Charlie stay with me. It’s nice having a kid to look after, I thought when Lil died and Ruby left, I’d missed my chance.

Now with a bit of giggling about the place, I might just get a chance to reach at least one of my dreams. Oh! and doesn’t that feel so good.

Why reviews give a writer a lift

Today I received an e-mail reviewing my two books Kundela and Gillespie's Gold, and here is what Derek Saunders a former school teacher from Orroroo, South Australia said about them:

I have just finished reading your 2 novels, Kundela and Gillespie’s Gold which Paddo lent to me. Looking forward to reading “Voss”.

I thoroughly enjoyed the read and found the story line captivating, imaginative and certainly held my attention. Detail of the characters’ everyday activities and inter-relationships added to the realism.

I felt I could connect with the settings around Orroroo and district, bringing back many fond memories. I actually got out my Flinders Ranges map to follow your story line.

I thought the scene in the Port Augusta Police Station when DI Cassidy and team were investigating events in Gillespie’s Gold, reminded me of the procedures that were used by DS Vera Stanhope in the “Vera” series- you certainly did your homework, as you obviously did in many areas such as the local geology-which also interested me, reminding me of trips out to Prince Alfred mine and other places.

So hope you keep writing Terry,  and take care.

Best wishes,

Derek.

Books are available from:

Collins Booksellers Sunbury Victoria:

https://www.collinsbookssunbury.com.au/?fbclid=IwAR2hJfqENpZpvCHMc0IuIK85jYsDz4pnl9dcVStnWrVGYOB2p_Z9PLeDTLw

E-Books available on Kindle Books:

https://www.amazon.com.au/KUNDELA-pointing-Justice-Terry-Probert-ebook/dp/B00GRKYV4I

Sometimes your grandchildren surprise you.

Port Fairy Priest a Detective Voss story.

My second Detective Voss  novel seems to have strayed from the original plot frame that I created before going to Port Fairy a couple of years ago. This was the original plan, might have to back to it and change a few names to protect the criminals.

Synopsis:

Voss takes a cottage in Port Fairy to re-assess his life. Likes the ebb and flow of the locals, doesn’t like the tourists much, but appreciates the improvement to the coffee shops and pubs their trade has brought.

He befriends a fisherman who is in his mid-seventies, Leith Pritchard is worried about his grandchildren, they are cutting school and spending most of their time boozing and taking drugs

He has noticed that they have better supply a week after the full moon at first, he thought the drugs were coming in from the fishing fleet, but as most of the captains and crew had children affected, he’d dismissed it.

Voss watches a wedding where the bride’s theme is red and black, Men are dresses in mail box red suits with black top hats, while the bridesmaids a dressed in black with red aprons. The wedding is lavish and Voss learns the couple are recent pop music stars who have decided Port Fairy has the right setting for their big day.

On the day of the wedding while the town watches and waits for the nuptials to begin, Voss and Leith study the coming and going of the florist, the priest and the caterers. Something irks Voss the, sight of the priest seems familiar and he runs a series of old mugshot images through his mind without finding anything. The priest, once a circuit man who came from Melbourne to take communion once a month, has moved up within the church. His visits often resulted in the kids going wild. Port Fairy has changed but people still remember the Uniting Church goers in the town who believed Satan was at work. The Jehovah Witness didn’t have an opinion and the lapsed Christians, agnostics and non-believers are sure the local copper turned a blind eye to the problem.

One time choir boy, Kyle Kipping, late thirties has made it big crossing between heavy and death metal music genres, drugs have dominated the headlines during the last ten years of his career, but it has brought him a new populous of followers. His early career as a pop singer had several number one singles and top selling albums. A career highlight of being promoted as the top billing on Carols in the Domain and Carols by Candlelight crashed during the Enquiry into Child Abuse, when he testified against a popular priest.

After publicly renouncing the Catholic Church on the sleeve of his last album, Songs of Regret, his producers, the recording company has pushed him into filming the wedding to release it in increments as video support for the songs.

Ten years on and, while the band is blasting the new album from several speakers the size of small cars, unknown to the quests in the marquee below at the Rockstar wedding, evil of its own is looking down on them. the priest is found dead, face down in front of a burning cross on top of the local lookout. Thirteen small and charred wooden crosses surround the body.

Speculation about the devil, drugs and God’s Justice whip the town gossips and scaremongers into a frenzy. Rumours surround the death some saying satanic symbols rose from the burning paint and noise from flames sounded like demons squealing as the vehicle burnt. Firefighters reported being unable to quench the flames and suspected an accelerant like napalm. Other reports had the body covered in knives sticking out of every muscle and body part.

What they couldn’t know was that the man’s genitals were removed and stuffed into his mouth before he died. Cause of death asphyxiation.

Along with the wedding guests and gossip columnists, now city journalists and TV reporters descended on the town in helicopters cars and most of the accommodation is booked out to accommodate them. Considering moving to a quieter location Voss answers his door to the Bishop seeking a meeting. Voss tries to push the thought of getting back to investigation to one side until the bishop tell him the priests name. this is the man who set Voss on his career as a copper. The only real father figure in his life.

He takes the case and is bewildered by the details of the crime. Father Geoffrey was due to testify before the Royal Commission into Child Abuse. However, the bishop confirms Voss’s belief his friend was one who spoke up against it, so why would someone do this. Eddie is reluctant to become involved, he has no use of the church for the way they treated him when his business was failing and Donna to thinks it is a bad idea. 

Voss might have to do this on his own.