Time away from the fog of life

Every day in November I intend to write a story, all for my dear dad who we lost to Pancreatic Cancer on November 8^th 2020.  Fundraising and raising awareness of this terrible heart breaking illness.

Pancreatic Cancer UK – For Everyone Affected by Pancreatic Cancer

These stories are fiction and not all related to cancer.  There are different genres, but are all to be read with intention of raising awareness as this is why I have written them.

A year ago I was managing about three to four stories a month, so thirty in a month will be an achievement.

5 am – Gilly

Slamming the door Gilly knew this was it.  Why had she stayed so long? Strapping Lucy into her seat, she glanced at the laughing blonde girl, who was oblivious to what was happening.   Things had to change , no more shouting and certainly no more put downs.  She needed a new life, a new start.

Putting the Toyota into gear she listened to the rumble of her old reliable diesel. Where to now? Gilly wasn’t one for making plans, she acted on impulse, heat of the moment.  Turning right out of drive she made the decision to head for the carriageway, out of this town into a new adventure.

It was hours later as she found herself at a deserted seafront hotel that she allowed herself to relax.  Helping Lucy out of the car, she scooped her up and held her close.

“Come on Munchkin, lets see if we can stop here.”

Knowing that her savings would only last so long, she knew time was limited before she needed to find work.  For tonight she needed to forget all her problems and concentrate on herself and Lucy.  Walking up the steep hotel steps she could hear the sea lapping at the sand behind her. The calm but powerful beauty of the ocean.  Gilly could feel her life swept away on a wave. She needed to sweep it back. Her life was now just her and Lucy and it was in tatters.

11 pm – Greg

Stretching in his chair it had been a busy night.  From the drunks that the officers bought in earlier to the ongoing ring of the telephone.  Shutting his eyes, he was shaken by the tall – bearded man now shouting at him.   As if his day couldn’t have got worse, this idiot was now stood in a police station hurling abuse.  Waving his fists he shouted,

“The bitch is missing, just up and left, her and my daughter, gone. What are you going to do about it?”

“Calm down sir, how long has she been gone?”

“This morning, bitch, that’s my girl she’s taken.”

“Sir, is she not the girls mum?”

Raising his voice he shouted,

“She is, but the bitch can’t just take her.”

“How long have they been missing?”

“This morning, you need find them.”

“She’s not been missing 24 hours?”

“What that matter? She’s taken my kid.” Waving at the chairs, Greg was now concerned for the woman and child.

“Sir, sit down and I will get some one to come and talk with you.  Do you have a photo of them, we will need it to identify them.

Pulling out his phone the man flicked through his photos,

“Here.”

Taking the phone, Greg carefully took another photo, trying to get the picture as clear as possible.  This woman and child possibly needed help.

A week later

Trying to make some money while caring for a two year old was not easy.   The only work Gilly could find was cleaning, Lucy trailing along behind her.  Life was better without the fear of the brute she had been living with.  She was grateful that the hotel was quiet, and the owners had kindly let her stay for a reduced rate.

On hands and knees scrubbing a stranger’s bathroom, she knew this couldn’t continue.  Years ago she had aspirations of university.  Malc had put an end to that, telling her she was stupid and would amount to nothing. Everything she had done was wrong for him even getting pregnant.  He had insisted on getting rid.  For years she had felt the sinking creeping sensation of desperation, allowing Malc to take control.

Making the decision to find out about college and day care, she couldn’t spend her life cleaning other peoples houses.

Greg

As the familiar deep voice came over the radio, Greg climbed out of bed to drag himself back into work.  Always on call, one day rolling into the next, he had always wanted to be a detective, and tonight he was working homicide.  After years working for the force, he should have been used to nights like this.

The image of the young woman on his phone had haunted him for a week now.  After 48 hours a case had been raised to find her.  The loud shouting man hadn’t been back to the station and no conclusions as to her possible whereabouts had been drawn from him.

Approaching the house, the echoing shouting vibrated around him.  Officers clearing the mob of journalists.  How did they know about this?   Dragging himself out of his Ford, time to put on his detective hat and work the case.

Met at the door by a young inspector running out crying, she was new to homicide and not prepared for its gruesome truths.  Entering the room, the stale stench filled his lungs.  Holding his breath, he was prepared for bodies.   Not prepared, he felt his heart lurch as he saw the cold lifeless eyes of the angry man looking back at him.  Lying in a pool of red with two other equally looking unfriendly men next to him.

Greg thought again of the woman, was she safe, who had killed the angry partner and his co- conspirators?  There was more to this story, did the woman need to fear for her life or was she involved?

The cafe

Time away from life, time alone with Lucy. Gilly had enrolled for an evening class, and now at last she felt the fog on her life lifting.  Sat drinking hot chocolate in the small café with Lucy, she noticed the tall handsome man walking towards her.

“Hello, Gillian Walsh?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, I’m Detective Greg Lewis, I’m here about Malcolm Williams, we need to talk.”

Feeling panic, Gillian thought, what now? The fog now falling back on her life, the familiar fear returning.

Here is my Fundraising page .  Any size donation is appreciated!

A story a day for Pancreatic Cancer UK – Just muddling through life