Sunday, 3 June 2018

The Killing of the Thousand and Second Night Chapter Two




    Here's the second extract from my historical murder mystery.
The Killing of the Thousand and Second Night, A Harriet Huntley Mystery

Chapter 2

    As well as responses to her invitations, there were a few invitations for both Harriet and Henry to consider as a couple and on an individual basis. Being a popular former MP of the west end of Glasgow and now a member of the House of Lords meant that Henry was very much in demand for both social and official engagements. When he could free himself from the House of Lords, he attended as many of them as possible.
    Lady Harriet had a busy schedule of her own, she was very much involved in the suffrage movement and of course, there was the charitable work she did for the Samaritan Hospital for Women.
    Although Henry hadn’t asked Harriet to give up her position in the hospital when they married five years ago it had been one of the hardest decisions she had ever had to make in her life. But being the wife of a dignitary was a full-time job in itself and she would not have been able to give the patients the commitment they needed and deserved if she had remained.
    Henry realised that giving up her post had been a great sacrifice, so it was he who suggested that she continue to help the hospital, but in a very different way. As the hospital, survived solely on charitable donations and subscriptions, she could raise funds for the hospital.
    She now had the advantage of an influential position in society; she had new means of helping the hospital, at her fingertips. Therefore she wouldn’t be turning her back on the people she loved; she would be carrying on helping them.
    So the ball she was busy organising would do just that, raise some more badly needed funds for the hospital. The Ladies Auxiliary Association, who undertook the door-to-door collection of subscriptions in aid of the infirmary, were always grateful for any help given.
**
    Harriet checked the small gold fob watch she had pinned to her pale blue shirt blouse, it was fifteen minutes before one. My goodness, how the morning had flown by. She had better go wash her hands before lunch was served at one o'clock. She placed her papers and her journal in one of the drawers on the left-hand side of the desk. Locking it with one of the small silver keys she had attached to the keychain, that hung from the waist of her navy coloured, gored skirt.
    Straightening the blotter on the mahogany flat leather top desk, she quickly looked around the book-lined room, just to check that everything was as it should. Yes, everything was neat and tidy, just as she liked each room in the house to be.
    As she rose from the leather upholstered revolving chair, the door burst open and Ian the bellboy came running in, with Charles and Mary directly behind him.
   Mam, Mam. The polis, they're every whar. You’ve to go to her,” Ian ran straight to Harriet and began pulling at her arm.
    “I’m sorry my Lady, we can't make any sense of what the boy’s talking about,” said Charles breathlessly, having tried to stop the boy before he barged into the library. But, the lad had proven too much for the butler's seventy-five years and easily won the semi-tussle they had in the hallway. Afraid that the boy was going to hurt their employer, Charles shouted angrily, “What on earth are you doing boy? Let go of Lady Huntley this minute.”
    But Ian didn’t let go of Harriet’s wrist, even when Charles took hold of his ear and tugged at it hard. Harriet was flummoxed by the chaos that had erupted around her and she said,
    “Charles, leave the boy alone. Calm down now Ian. What are you trying to tell me? And please speak in English.”
    Before the lad could even answer his mistress, Mary said defensively,
    “I told Charlie here that no one was to disturb you unless it was a matter of life or death Lady Harriet, I’m so sorry.”
    “ Mam, I’m sorry for botherin yea. But as I tried to tell Charlie here, although it’s no a matter of life, it’s certainly a matter of death I need to tell you aboot. You see, Jeannie Vicars, The Ashdown’s servant has been murdered and they say there’s loads o blood,” Ian let go of his mistresses arm, now that he knew he had her undivided attention.
    “Murdered, are you sure?”
    “Aye, Mrs Ashdown’s in an awfy, I mean awful, state. Big PC. McTavish let me speak with Mr Ashdown and he told me to ask you to go o’er, I mean go to their hoose, right away. He said he needed you to help calm her doon. She’s wailing an greetin.”
    “Oh, my word. Good lad. Charles take him to the kitchen and have cook give him some hot sweet tea. And, be sure and give him the rest of the day off.”
    “Surely Lady Harriet,” Charles had regained his composure and said to Ian, “Come on lad, we’ll get you sorted out.”
    Ian nodded and went quietly with the butler, out of the room. Slightly shaken at the events that had reigned in her household for several minutes, she took a deep breath and Harriet said calmly,
    “Organise a cab for me Mary and get me my cravanette raincoat and boots, as it looks pretty wet out there.”
    “Yes, Lady Harriet. But are you sure you want to go to a house, where someone’s been murdered?”
    “The Ashdown’s are my friends and Charlotte is of a fairly weak disposition, so it’s my duty to support her, in her hour of need,” Harriet said obstinately. Her mind was made up and Mary knew by her employer’s tone that it would be disrespectful to say any more on the subject.
**
    “Thank you for coming over, Harriet. Charlotte’s up in her room, having a lie down” John Ashdown rushed forward to greet his guest, who had been shown into the drawing room by PC. McTavish.
    “Oh my goodness John, how is she? How are both of you?” Harriet took hold of John’s hand.
    “I’m in a state of incredulous disbelief and Charlotte’s in a terrible state, crying all the time. But the police are demanding that they speak to her as soon as possible. I’ve tried to tell them that she won’t be able to tell them anything barely comprehensible. But Inspector MacGregor is insistent; I don’t know if I can stall him for much longer.”
    “Guy MacGregor. is the officer in charge?”
    “Yes Harriet, do you know him?”
    “My goodness me, I didn’t know he was back in Glasgow,” Harriet could feel her face flush when the policeman’s identity was confirmed. But John didn’t seem to notice her reaction and he said enthusiastically,
    “If you know him that’s all the better. Maybe you could try and persuade him to delay her questioning until the doctor can see her.”
    “Yes, yes. Where is he?”
    “In the library, I’ll take you to him.”
    “No John, I can find my own way. Settle yourself for now. By the way, where’s your father?”
    “In his room, he’s having a lie down too. He’s devastated, Jeannie was like a daughter to him. The police have already questioned him, but he didn’t have much to tell them. He’s now wondering if there was some way he could have stopped her killer.”
    “But surely he didn’t know that she was in danger?”
    “Of course not, but the fact that he didn’t find it strange that he hadn’t seen her for two days, should have alerted him that something was wrong. But it didn’t so it’s now praying on his mind.”
    “Oh I see, poor man, how old is he now?”
    Eighty-nine.”
    “A good age for sure and he’s still so mentally alert.”
    “Yes, it’s only his mobility that’s a problem. That’s why he’s now living on the ground floor.”
    “Oh yes, Charlotte was telling me about making alterations to some of your downstairs rooms to accommodate him.”
   Yes, he was struggling with the stairs.”
    “Yes, I know,” Harriet could hear the compassion in John’s voice when he spoke of his father. She decided it was time to and reacquaint herself with Guy MacGregor, so she said, “John don’t worry, MacGregor’s a good man, he’ll get to the bottom of this horrendous situation.” She left John looking into the roaring fire that filled the grate of the spacious room in his ‘Kirklees Garden’ home.


***

Friday, 1 June 2018

The Killing of the Thousand and Second Night (Book Extract)

 


    Here's the first chapter of a historical murder mystery I've written, not published as yet.


The Killing of the Thousand and Second Night A Harriet Huntley Mystery

Chapter 1



    Harriet hoped that the post would bring the last of the responses to her ball invitations today.  Why on earth, were the same people always tardy with their replies?  How tiresome; she sighed and pushed her breakfast tray to Henry’s side of the bed.  She looked at the empty pillow beside her longingly. Stroking the white cotton pillowcase gently, she smiled.  Her heart felt as though it was going burst, every time she thought of him. Never mind, he would soon be home from London.     
    The thought of his arms entwining her, made her feel...  How did he make her feel when he was with her? When he held her and of course when he made love to her?  Loved, desired and very lucky.  Yes, that’s exactly how she felt, every day, every moment he was with her.
    She sank back into her deep feathery pillows and looked around the master bedroom of her Devonshire Terrace home.  She had chosen the bright wisteria frieze that bordered the white papered walls, the mauve drapes that adorned the high sash windows of the room and the Italian wings of her brass bedstead, to brighten up the dank dismal days, which they experienced so often in Glasgow.
    The weather had been so changeable of late, one day the cobblestones of Great Western Road, the main road that ran parallel to the Terrace, were white with frost, the next; they were awash with heavy rain. Today it must be the latter; she could hear the heavy traffic splash through the puddles. It was going to be a long winter, she sighed again. She must try and shake the melancholy mood she could feel hanging over her.
    Harriet’s mind drifted from the gloomy weather, on hearing the sound of water filling the bath in the adjoining bathroom. She hoped Mary, her lady’s maid, had remembered to add some of the musk oil, she had picked up on her last trip to Paris.  Paris the gaiety of it all, Henry and her had a wonderful ten days. The parties, the balls and the dancing, her feet tingled with the thought of the wonderful dancing.
    But Paris was all but now a dream; a dream that memories were built on. She would have to content herself. Reaching over to her night-stand, she lifted her small leather-bound prayer book and a sheet of folded writing paper which was neatly tucked away behind the last page dropped onto the lilac coloured quilt. She looked towards the bathroom before unfolding the paper and she began to read the beautifully handwritten words;

My dream.
I saw her as an angel fair, with sparkling eyes of blue,
With cheeks like blossomed roses and lips of a reddish hue,
Her body formed like Venus, as graceful as a queen,
I never thought I'd find a girl, like the angel of my dream.

But yet you came into my life,
Bringing with you boundless joy,
My angel soon will be my wife,
And life together we'll enjoy.

I still dream of my angel fair,
With sparkling eyes of blue,
But now I know my angel's name,
Harriet dear it's you.

    A tear trickled down Harriet’s cheek, but on hearing the bathroom door open she quickly brushed away the droplets and folded away the paper, placing it carefully back into its private place. The words would remain in her heart for the rest of her life, without a doubt. 
    Mary Innes bustled in, having prepared her mistress's bath water and having laid out fresh white fluffy towels for her. The young woman in her late twenties had been in Lady Harriet's employ for three years, they got on well and both were very satisfied with their arrangement.
    Although both women were born and brought up in Glasgow, their upbringings had been very different. But the close bond that had formed between the two of them immediately, had wiped out any problems they might have had because of the differences in their backgrounds.
    “Hope you've eaten your breakfast this morning Lady Harriet,” Mary’s tone was that of a mother questioning her picky child, even although she was some ten years younger than her mistress.  Making her way over to the bed, she quickly glanced over the tray and seeing the contents had been consumed, she removed it and placed it beside the bedroom door, so she could return it to the kitchen later.
    “Yes I have; I don't intend to lose any more weight.  My final fitting for my costume is later today and if any more drastic adjustments are needed to be made, I think Clarissa might finally lose patience with me,” Harriet having pulled back the bed covers; rubbed her left hand over her flat stomach.
    “Huh, it wouldn't take much for Miss Clarissa to lose her patience.  I’ve always found her dead crabby,” Mary offered a silk kimono to her employer, for her to put on.
    “That’s what I love about you my dear Mary, your honesty,” Harriet giggled girlishly at her maid's forthrightness.  Getting up out of bed she slipped her feet firstly into a pair of black mule slippers, then her arms into the kimono and she said, “Whilst I’m bathing I have a few things I need to be done.  If you make sure Charles puts all my mail on the library desk when it arrives.  I’ll spend the morning in there; if you can tell him I'd rather not be disturbed. Only disturb me if it's a matter of life or death.”
    “Yes, Lady Harriet.  What time are you expecting crabby Clarissa?”
    “About two o’clock, if you want to take lunch then that's fine with me.  Charles can send her up here when she arrives.” Harriet stopped before entering into the bathroom, turning to look at Mary she said, “And if you can arrange for Ian the bellboy to pick up the bouquet I ordered from the florist yesterday and deliver it to Mr and Mrs Ashdown’s, along with the note I’ve left over on the dressing table there.  They returned home from Wemyss Bay last night, after visiting with her mother. Charlotte will be heartbroken at having to leave her and return to that cantankerous father-in-law of hers. I thought I would try and lift her spirits.”
    “Certainly Lady Harriet.  That’s a lovely gesture,” the lady’s maid never ceased to be amazed at Harriet’s thoughtfulness and kindness.

***

    You can read the second chapter Monday, June 4th.

Sunday, 27 May 2018

Meet Author Kristina Gallo

   

    I know how hard it is to learn and speak another language, it's a work in progress for me personally. Therefore, I admire authors who are up for a challenge and choose to write a book in a language other than that is native to them.

    Today, I want to introduce you to one such indie author and blogger, Kristina Gallo. Kristina is Croatian and has published four self-help/motivational books to date in English, giving advice in how to take control of our lives no matter what is thrown at us.



Q&A

  • Kristina, thanks for wanting to connect with readers by taking part in this feature. Tell us about how you started writing?
         I started to write as a teenager, initially I used a notebook and pencil, because I was born in the age without the Internet, computers and smartphones. Then later, I began to type my work on a typewriter, very similar to the ones you see in old movies. Luckily at high school I learned secretarial skills, so it helped me type faster.


  • What inspired you to write self-help books?
          I had no luck in love relationships, as well as some friends who turned their backs on me. I learned about disloyal people, therefore I was inspired by my own personal problems and experiences. I believe I can help someone not repeat the mistakes I made. If  I had such a book in my possession in the past, I probably would have thought twice about some of the situations I found myself in.


  • Have you written your books with a particular audience in mind?
         Yes. My work is aimed at people who don't fit into one social group, or another. I know how it feels to be rejected by a popular social circle. I have a message for those individuals who were never invited to parties, or who could not find a group to hangout with because they're not so popular.
        My message is simply, it's okay to be different and when you're different, things like this happen. Yes, you don't want to lose friends, but there is also nothing wrong with standing on your own two feet.


  • How did you come up with your titles?
         I had a struggle with  my titles. I wanted to make a title which hadn't already been used, was inappropriate, or too ordinary. In the end, I chose a few sentences from my books.


  • Your latest release 'Seduce Her With a Fist' was published earlier this year. How did  you come to the decision to use such an evocative title?
         That is an excellent question. This is a story about a girl who falls in love with a hooligan. This is how he shows her love, with his fist. This is a kind of sarcasm, he did not know any better. I love to say, my story is anti-romance. This is not a fairy tale with a happy ending.


  • Kristina, you'll be glad to know this is my final question. Do you have any new titles due for release and if you have can you tell us if they are of the same genre?
         I love to write about human psychology, no matter if it is chic-lit, or self-help. I would like to write a thriller, but I need more time and to do more research. I am a big fan of Agatha Christie and Virginia Woolf, at first point, it would seem that they don't have much in common, however I adore this style of mystery.

         Thank you for letting us get to know you Kristina. I love getting to know my fellow authors and today has been a pleasure. Readers you can find out more about Kristina and her books by clicking on the links below.


Twitter           :https://twitter.com/ViperGallo

Blog/Books     :https://kristinagallo.wordpress.com

Facebook        :https://www.facebook.com/ironlady39

         











Thursday, 24 May 2018

Insatiable Appetite

   

    Eleven years to the day after the poet, Robert Burns was born, another boy was born in Scotland who would reserve a place in the history of Scottish literature, his name was James Hogg, born on January 25th, 1770.

    Burns and Hogg's lives were very similar, their fathers were both tenant farmers and both boys only attended school for several years due to the financial restraints of their families. Burns became a ploughman and Hogg a shepherd, their education came from books and of course life.

    While it seems never the twain did meet, their social circles had crossed. Hogg had the privilege to be mentored by Sir Walter Scott although having only met him once at the age of sixteen, was inspired by the great bard.

    Having only a little education as children didn't hold these two men back,  because they had a hunger for knowledge. An appetite that can only be satiated by books. Keep on writing authors.


"What is the life of a man more than the life of a lamb, or any guiltless animal?" - James Hogg




https://www.amazon.co.uk/James-Hogg/e/B001ITTH56 

   

   

   

Sunday, 20 May 2018

Let's Fly Away



    There have been so many women in the world that have fought for equality in the sexes and as we know the fight goes on. The Pankhursts both mother and daughter famously campaigned for the right for women to have a vote and their names instantly come to mind when we think about historical role models for women.

    There are so many gutsy women in the history of the world that I admire, however today I want to highlight one woman who I believe we haven't heard enough of and her name is Winifred Joyce Drinkwater.

    Winifred was born April 11th, 1913 in Cardonald, Glasgow and at the age of 17, she gained her pilot's licence making her Scotland's youngest pilot. At the age of 19, she became the youngest professional pilot in the UK and then went on to be the first woman in the world to hold a commercial pilot's licence.

    Yes, she was doing all this amazing stuff when many in the world thought that women should be barefoot pregnant and chained to the kitchen sink. Of course, there are those who believe that this still to be the case.

     I know I overheard a fellow passenger on a flight recently say "The woman outside checking the aeroplane must be the co-pilot on our flight. As she was too young and pretty to be otherwise." How I laughed inwardly when she introduced herself and her male co-pilot over the intercom.

    It's women like Winifred who sadly died October 6th, 1996 in New Zealand who are an inspiration to all women and we should celebrate every single one of them.

http://www.heraldscotland.com/news/12085020.Winnie_Drinkwater/

https://scotlandonscreen.org.uk/browse-films/007-000-000-227-c

   

   

Friday, 18 May 2018

A Highland Folly

   


    It doesn't matter if it's a winter's or summer's day, each time I have visited, Oban, over the years it's beauty has never failed to disappoint me. Ferries sailing in and out of the harbour, transporting people and goods to the inner and outer Hebridean islands, add some bustle to the otherwise laid-back small Scottish town.



     The views from the town towards the islands are nothing more than spectacular and make the hairs on the back of my neck stand-up. My Scottish blood hurtles through my veins and my feet twitch on hearing the wailing of the bagpipes, that always seem to be playing in the background.


    The bells ring from the tower of St Columba's Cathedral inviting worshippers to mass daily, stopping the promenaders in their tracks as the sound echoes around the horseshoe-shaped bay.


    Then when prayers are finished it's time to try out one of the fish and seafood restaurants that give this gateway to the highlands the name of 'Seafood Capital of Scotland'. On the few occasions that food isn't on the agenda a walk up to the summit of Battery Hill, finishing within the magnificent walls of McCaig's Tower is worth the hike up the arduous incline.


    There are two reasons why anyone would take a sharp intake of breath on entering its towering walls, that is because of the exertion that has been applied to reach the top of the hill and the glorious sight that the eyes now behold.

    This folly commissioned by, banker John Stuart McCaig in 1897, five years prior to his death in 1902 was built as an everlasting monument to his family and to provide philanthropic support for local stonemasons during the winter months. One hundred plus years on, this dominating landmark makes an everlasting impression on each and every visitor to the town and port. Giving all who enter a birds-eye view of this part of the Scottish Highlands.


    Once back down the hill the blistered heels rubbed toes and tired legs can be eased with a glass of the whisky distilled in the town's distillery, which is one of the oldest distilleries in Scotland.

    Slangevar!

    

   

Sunday, 13 May 2018

Waters Run Deep



    I have two thoughts about soaps on the TV, one they can help you disengage from the reality that is going on round about you for a half hour, or it connects you with real issues that many people all over the world have to face in their lives.

    Recently, Coronation Street a soap opera that is aired a few times a week in the UK has focussed on some really tough subjects, one being male rape and the other male suicide.

    They were criticized by many for broaching these raw subjects, however, they have been applauded by a majority of their viewers.

    If we take the first subject of male rape, sexual violence towards men and boys isn't a topic that many of us have ever thought about. Reports of violence towards women and girls are featured in our news daily and encouragement is given to those who have been affected to seek help. But, in the case of males by not putting the facts out there we are keeping the harsh truth hidden away, leaving the victims alone and helpless.

    Then we have male suicide the biggest cause of death in the UK for men under the age of 45 years-old, again because the subject is kept locked away in a closet, those who have suicidal thoughts, mental suffering, pain and anguish don't get the support and help they need.

    These storylines in Coronation Street, have made the UK talk and that's what we need to do. Talk and share.


https://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/campaigns/mental-health-awareness-week

http://ok2talk.org/

http://www.projecteightyfour.com/

https://www.samaritans.org/

https://www.survivorsuk.org/question/male-sexual-abuse-and-the-law/

https://www.rapecrisisscotland.org.uk/