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Wonderful beautiful Copenhagen
Wonderful Copenhagen
As I sit here, the words of Danny Kaye fill my head, ‘Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen’ I originally heard this on a video with Hans Christian Anderson. This is my first visit to Denmark and Copenhagen certainly does not disappoint. I look at Christine next to me and know that she is feeling the same. Her smile as she stares ahead at the beautiful landscape, the city is like something you will see on a picture postcard.
The boats on the Copenhagen canal sway on the water as the tourist’s clamber on board to enjoy the local sites. The distinct smells of the city and sounds of people busy about their day. If it hadn’t been for the fact that adventure is my job, I might not have noticed the boat that was sat across from us loading boxes. What was in the boxes? Other boats were all about tourism, this one had two strange looking men, who kept looking around them. Should I ignore them, or do I look further?
Distraction
I want to enjoy the beauty and relax, but these men had my attention. I want food but the prices made me wince. The smell of cinnamon from the table next to me made my mouth water, should I?
As Christine cut into my thoughts the decision was made, a walk to the park and grab a famous red hot dog was her plan. I looked at the men, still loading the boat, what was going on? Watching her get up I knew I was not going to win, plus I am hungry, I hope the hot dog stand is cheaper than the small café.
As I push out my chair I hear a very loud cry. The men are no longer shifting boxes and are rapidly untying their boat as some people are running, screaming towards them. Should I do something now? Looking at Christine I can see her disapproving frown, once a detective, always a detective even when I am supposed to be relaxing on holiday. As the screech of police sirens filled the air, Christine grabbed my arm, dragging me away from the situation. As usual my gut was right something was going on.
A walk
Reluctantly I allowed myself to be dragged away, away from the screams and the cries. However, this was about to get much worse. We had come for peace, Christine needed a break after a bad divorce and me, I needed time out from my stressful job in the police. Trouble seems to follow me around. Maybe those men were smugglers or had stolen money from the restaurants, but now on entering the pretty park is another commotion. A man stood there with a shot gun as a woman is desperately trying to avoid being shot. I hear a voice in my head,
“No Catherine, you are on holiday, you are not a negotiator now, that’s next week, not now.”
Ignoring the voice and ignoring Christine, I know I must do something,
“Chris, phone 112.”
People were stood around panicking; I was the only calm person. Crazy really as I was not wearing a vest and here was a crazy man with a gun. Approaching the man, all I could think of was saving the situation and talking him down.
The Copenhagen port
Jack had been given a job to do, and when he gives his word, he follows through. Being asked by Red to import coke was a major responsibility and Copenhagen with all its boats served as a good a place as any to supply and distribute. Failure is not an option; Red has a fiery temper and is not a man to be messed with. Jack needed the money, with a heavy addiction to the casino and a baby on the way, he had to get the gear out of Copenhagen. Working with an older man, Tim, all muscle, and all fight they were making good time.
Sam had been placed in the park; they needed the time to get the ‘Flying Kipper’ loaded and out of the port. The police appearing had not been part of their plan. Hastily loading the last box and untying the boat Jack and Tim left, they now just needed to get to the other end safely, and they would get their pay day.
The park
Approaching the shooter, I kept calm and talked. The man was resistant at first but then sat down and pushed the woman away. I sat down next to him. He was a young lad, maybe early 20s, and was shaking. Listening to his story I learnt about the drug running and Red, I learnt that he is terrified and had been placed in the park to distract from Jack and Tim at the port loading boxes.
As the police arrived, I found out that the drugs were headed for the border between Germany and Denmark. I had heard of Copenhagen’s famous ‘Pusher Street’. Now I was really learning about it.
Sam disclosed all the information that was needed to catch Red and the dealers. He was offered immunity for his help especially as the local police had been wanting to catch them in action for a while. It also evolved that the woman was in on it and so was not in any danger at all. Sam never had any intention of harming her, he had just done as he was asked, and she had been dragged into the mess with him.
Pusher Street
Famous for its sales of Cannabis, freely being sold on market stalls, I was surprised at the roaring trade happening. Such a pretty City but the authorities seemed to be turning a blind eye to the tourists and locals happily smoking Hashish.
Our holiday had only just begun. So far, I had helped apprehend some drug runners and now was stood surrounded by stoners. It was my turn to drag Christine away. It was now time to sight see, properly. I’m not at work for a week and I want to see this wonderful city.
Pulling Christine’s arm she starts laughing,
“Oh Cath, why so serious”
“You know why. We are going”. Copenhagen here we come.
Note: Pusher Street (Freetown Christiania) was finally closed for good in 2024. It was shut down by the police and locals with the street being physically removed. As for drug smuggling there appear to be many recorded incidences in Copenhagen.
Written for Write the story, on Writers Unite
For more see The cold truth behind the shoes on the line, written for Writers Unite
Note story is written around the prompt photo – for Write the Story.
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The roadside cafe at Christmas
Roadside Cafe
Listening to the familiar spit and crackle of eggs in the large pan, I wondered again whether there was more for me then this grotty roadside café. The familiar pop pop pop of the coffee percolator and the cries from Frank as he ran in and out of the kitchen. Rubbing my hands on my apron I grab my notebook and push my way through the door. Working as a waitress I can confirm that my legs feel like knives stabbing me, a 12-hour shift is never fun. Serving people 24 hours a day I have witnessed many late nights and hard early mornings. Today was not proving any different. 11am on a Monday and I’ve been here since 2am.
The busy hum of customers and dirty tables demanding to be wiped. Watching the snow fall outside I glance around the busy room and notice three small children sat wearing shorts, T-shirts and baseball caps. There is a man with them, sat talking into his phone, wearing a thick heavy brown coat. Is this picture normal? Are these his children? surely they are cold. Walking to their table, the man look up. The children remain silent as he orders coffee, three coca colas and four burgers. Should I be concerned? He was feeding them after all. Maybe all is fine. Serving other customers, I continue to keep an eye on them. Mentioning my concerns to Geoff the cook he told me that I’ve read too many books and there is nothing wrong.
Concerns
They had been there about 30 minutes when I see the girl walk to the toilet, I now follow and pretend to clean around the wash basins. Hearing sobs I know I am right to be concerned. Hearing her pull the lock back she then looks at me, reaches into her pocket, hands me a piece of paper and leaves.
Stunned I now read it. “I saw you look, help! Blue Nissan, bad man.”
Walking out to the car park, I find the car and photograph the registration. Now phoning the police I tell them what has happened and advise them of the car.
In the café they are getting up to leave, how can I stop them? Phoning Geoff I tell him to act quickly we need to delay the man and children. Despite his reservations I was relieved that he acted quickly, bringing out more coffee and cola.
What now?
“More drink before you hit the road? the coffee is bottomless today”, he said kindly.
The man looked at him suspiciously as the children sat back down eyeing the cola greedily. The man grumbled about his schedule, and said they must go. The small girl now protested wanting more drink. Staring Geoff down, the man started to get angry.
“What is this? We are leaving”.
Its now that two police cars arrive in the car park, and the man’s face turns to panic.
“Daisy what did you do?”
“You’re a bad man”
“And you tell too many stories.”
Christmas
Here the story evolves. When you see children not dressed appropriately for the weather, or a child hands you a note, it’s easy to misinterpret the situation. The man had been on the phone to the children’s mum, his partner. Daisy was the eldest and didn’t like him. She just wanted daddy which was a whole other story.
Dean had decided to take the children Christmas shopping. He wanted to buy their mum a present. Knowing that the eldest, Daisy, didn’t trust him he had bought them a burger.
Getting them to dress for the weather hadn’t worked and they had left their coats in the car. Making an effort to get to know the children he knew that Daisy was difficult but did not expect to be speaking to the police today. After checking his story, they spoke with me. I hadn’t wasted their time as next time it might not es innocent, and no I was right not to approach him.
Watching them leave, I thought of my own life. This man was trying to do a nice thing and bring his partner a happy Christmas. I will be here; we are open every day of the year. My children will be with my mum. Christmas will just be another day. I sat and realised that we need decorations, we need a proper Christmas menu and maybe we could sell some exclusive café Christmas gifts. Christmas is for giving and sharing. I give and share my time; we need to make our café a warm and welcoming place for our travellers. Unsure what Geoff would say, I now retrieved my notebook and returned to work.
Shopping
Dean walked the children into the busy shopping centre. Daisy reached for his hand having thought about what she had done.
“Sorry, but you’re not daddy”
“No love but I’m trying to care for you and your mum. You just need to let me”.
“Mum likes clothes and I’m cold.”
“Well lucky that we are surrounded by clothes stores, come on, lets shop.”
Better to give than receive
Christmas morning and Gabbie was surprised by the three large parcels under the tree. Things seemed to have changed over the last two weeks. The children’s dad was still being an idiot, but Daisy had been nicer about Dean. The police incident had scared Daisy, and her and Dean were now talking more. You can’t buy love but a new found respect was being built.
Opening the presents, boots and a large woolly jumper from Dean and a new top from the children. She loved them and was so grateful that this man had made such an effort for her. She hadn’t known him long, but he was certainly a really good man.
At Christmas time it is always better to give then to receive, whether it’s giving your time or giving a present. Whatever you do, bring someone joy!
Happy Christmas everyone! Hope you have a lovely time!
For more see The empty school classroom
Written for Writers Unite! photo prompt
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The Winterton Weeping Woods
Our holiday
What have I done? This is a bit different to the glossy brochure. Clever marketing had brought us to what should have been a park lodge. Instead, it is a dingy barn. A barn with a leaky roof, running water and a bathroom. Sort of habitable, the bargain price makes more sense now. Where in the UK can you rent a park lodge for £200, for a week in August? You can’t! I’m sure that wouldn’t even pay for Butlins. At least Shaun is smiling. Mike, not so much. If I hadn’t been left alone to holiday plan, then this wouldn’t have happened. Mike had liked the price though and had enthusiastically loaded up the car.
Five hours from home and here we are. Winterton Weeping Woods, weeping was right, this was a disaster. No WIFI, no heating, I look again at the brochure, did I misread it? Or have we been scammed Luckily, we have thick heavy blankets in the car. The only happy person here is Shaun and he is five. Needing warmth, we build a fire and as darkness truly settles in we became more agreeable to the situation. We needed an adventure, something to bring us together. However, a tent in our back garden would have been better then this. I have never considered sleeping in a barn. This one did at least have beds and duvets, but this was not the holiday I had planned.
Night
As the evening got darker, I started thinking of what could be hidden in the woods. We were alone, maybe there were other holiday makers equally dissatisfied with their accommodation, we would go for a walk tomorrow, or so I thought.
2am
I am woken by a howl. Something big was outside. Then a loud banging, I just wanted to sleep. I could hear Mike stir next to me. Pulling up the covers I am vaguely aware that he is going to check on the ruckus.
In life things happen, we make choices, and they are sometimes the wrong ones. Maybe I should have gone to the door, but Mike seemed like he was on a mission to get rid of them. As all went quiet, I fell back to sleep.
8am
Woken by Shaun, I realised that Mike had not come back. Looking outside I couldn’t see him, and he hadn’t left a note. The car was still there though, so he couldn’t have gone far. Checking my phone there is no message there either. Grabbing Shaun’s hand, I lead him out of the barn and now start walking. In my worry over Mike, we haven’t eaten or had a warm drink. I’ve literally just stepped into my trousers, boots and coat and dressed Shaun.
Summary
So here we are, a forty-year-old woman who should know better and a five year old, now cold, hungry and lost in the woods. No Wifi and phone reception is poor too. Shouting Dad and Mike had got us nowhere and great, it’s now raining!
Peter
Its now as we sit cuddled up under a tree that an angel appears. Not a godly angel but a man who changed this whole awful drama around. Explaining who we were and why we are here, he started laughing.
“I’m so sorry”, he said, “I don’t know about your husband but why are you sleeping in the barn?”
“Is this not Winterton Weeping Woods?”
“It is, but the barn is where I go when the missus has had enough of me. The holiday park is just beyond the woods. I can take you, but we must find your husband.”
Pulling out what looked like a radio, we soon found out where Mike was. Last night there had been an accident and the people involved had knocked on the barn door wanting Peter but found Mike instead. Mike had then obliged by going with them to the hospital after helping lift the young man on to their trailer.
Peter now told them where Mike was supposed to be, and I could hear laughing. I guess it is a funny story, but I feel incredibly stupid. Showing us the pathway back, he offers to meet us in an hour to lead us to the holiday park where we should be.
The weeping woods
Day Two of our holiday was not as we had expected. The reception staff had laughed too, this is a story that will be retold. The daft family who spent a night in a barn. Maybe the park needs better signs!
However, at least they found Mike and he had been good with the injured man, so a good ending there.
Having now found the park lodge with the hot tub we are no longer weeping. This was more like I had imagined and just as stated in the glossy brochure.
So why are these woods called Weeping woods? Well according to the internet there is a history of people going missing, taken. On a quiet night, howling and crying can be heard. I looked at my full wine glass and then out towards the woods. Was that howl last night the injured man? Or something more sinister? I looked up at the sky and thanked God that we had met Peter who had brought us to the park lodge where we should be. That barn had certainly not been safe! I’m sure there is more to this then the locals and Peter are willing to share. Maybe its not his missus that sends Peter to the barn but something else. Why was this holiday so cheap?
Yes, I need to stop thinking about it, relax and enjoy my holiday, playing detective would quite possibly get me in trouble, that’s what happens on television anyway. I could find myself buried in the woods, I shuddered.
Sipping my wine, I now lean back in the hot tub, listening to the rhythmic bubbles I close my eyes. We are okay, we are safe and all here and I need to quit the overthinking and enjoy my break from work. We are here to relax, not to solve the mystery of the Winterton Weeping Woods.
Written for Writers Unite! photo prompt
For more see – Back on the road written for writers unite
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