Lost Apostrophe – the Diary of a Writing Group
by Rosalie Warren
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: None.
Description: EPISODE NINE: January 2015 – Katy Parker
Swearwords: None.
Description: EPISODE NINE: January 2015 – Katy Parker
Right, that’s it. The official end of Sweet Dreams, known in my grandparents’ and parents’ day as The Little Sweetie Shop. Nothing’s gone right since I changed the name. Just as well I’m not superstitious or I might think I’d jinxed it.
Actually the jinx was probably me. My lack of business skills. Dad was a quiet man but he knew what he was doing. Sound commercial mind. And he and Mum hardly missed a day behind that counter, barring Sundays when they weren’t allowed to open, of course, back in the day. No time off, unlike me, for doctor’s or hospital visits. Not that that was my fault. Couldn’t afford an assistant so there was no alternative, when I had to have all those investigations five years ago or so. What a waste of time that was. Found nothing, but left me a miserable wreck.
Still. I’ll have more time for my stories, once the shop is gone. I’ll have to find a job of course, at least part time, to pay rent to my sister Anne. But I’ll have evenings at least, and weekends. They won’t want me under their feet. I’ll closet myself in my little room upstairs and get on with my work. Put some serious effort into it – enter some of the bigger competitions, including the BBC one. You never know. Time I spread my wings, Ju says – she’s been telling me that for years and I know she’s right.
It’ll be a relief, not having the shop attached to me like a leech, sucking my blood, my energy, my money, my soul.
Though I’ll miss it, of course I will. And I feel I’ve let them down – Mum and Dad, Gran and Gramps. If they can see me from up there, wherever they are, I wonder what they’re thinking. I hope they’re not mad at me. Especially Mum. She was always harder on me than Dad was. Anne was her favourite, though I’m not sure I was Dad’s. He didn’t believe in favourites. I still prickle all over at the unfairness of it, after all these years. Still can’t properly forgive Anne, though I suppose it wasn’t her fault. Hate the idea of accepting charity from her. So kind of her, everyone keeps saying, to offer you a room in her house. And of course she ‘doesn’t expect any rent’. Makes me so mad. I’ll pay my way, whatever happens – I’ll make sure of that. I’m not having self-righteous Anne crowing over my downfall. She always steered well clear of the shop – had the sense to see it wouldn’t survive, I suppose. She and Clark, her horrible hubby. Yes, I know that’s mean, but he’s such a poncey prat, with his job ‘in the media’ – never found out for certain exactly what he does. Probably cleans the toilets at the local radio station, JuJu says. I’d love her to be right.
I’ll miss Castlehaven, I’ll miss the writing group and most of all, I’ll miss Ju. Been friends a long time. All that time her marriage was breaking up, and then more recently the trouble with Joe. I’ve done my best to help her and she’s done the same for me. I know we’ll only be forty miles apart but it’ll feel like a lot more. Just hope she can get her act together and start driving again, because I won’t have a car, I’ll have to take a bus and a train and another bus and…
The others, too, or some of them… Eva, for all her religious fervour, is a lovely person. Rud with his breakthrough – I’ll have to keep my eyes open for him, if he’s going to hit the big time with his books. Deserves it, he really does. And Will, of course… must make sure I keep in touch with him. He’s been a good friend as well as a faithful customer all these years. Never bought his Bournville chocolate from anywhere else, even though it meant an extra trek for him down the lane and back, and always had a cheerful word for me.
Helen… can’t say I’ll miss her much. She never had much time for me – probably wrote me off as stupid, uneducated, the rest. Tony… never got on with him either. Old Davie now – he’s pleasant enough and I love his stories about old Castlehaven. Pity no one else seems interested. I still think he could get them into the Dalesman if he keeps on trying.
Sam and Becca… never been able to make those two out. Sam all charm – I liked him at first but there’s been something recently… he’s too good to be true. And Becca never looks happy. Must be something wrong in that relationship. If I was staying, I should maybe try to find out more, see if I can… well, not necessarily help, but alert someone? No. I’m over-reacting, as I tend to do. She’s just shy and quiet. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, as my dad would say.
Who else is there? Oh, the new woman, Corinna. She seemed all right. Offered to help me bring out an e-book collection of some of my stories. I’d have taken her up on that. Been thinking about it for a while, just need someone to hold my hand, show me what to do. But it’s too late now. No time, before I leave. Could be as early as the end of next month.
Perhaps I should ask Eva to pray me a miracle. If only I believed! No, I’ve only myself to rely on, though I do believe there’s something somewhere – just no one waiting to answer my prayers. Probably just as well. God knows how much havoc might have been caused if He’d been answering my prayers all these years.
Actually the jinx was probably me. My lack of business skills. Dad was a quiet man but he knew what he was doing. Sound commercial mind. And he and Mum hardly missed a day behind that counter, barring Sundays when they weren’t allowed to open, of course, back in the day. No time off, unlike me, for doctor’s or hospital visits. Not that that was my fault. Couldn’t afford an assistant so there was no alternative, when I had to have all those investigations five years ago or so. What a waste of time that was. Found nothing, but left me a miserable wreck.
Still. I’ll have more time for my stories, once the shop is gone. I’ll have to find a job of course, at least part time, to pay rent to my sister Anne. But I’ll have evenings at least, and weekends. They won’t want me under their feet. I’ll closet myself in my little room upstairs and get on with my work. Put some serious effort into it – enter some of the bigger competitions, including the BBC one. You never know. Time I spread my wings, Ju says – she’s been telling me that for years and I know she’s right.
It’ll be a relief, not having the shop attached to me like a leech, sucking my blood, my energy, my money, my soul.
Though I’ll miss it, of course I will. And I feel I’ve let them down – Mum and Dad, Gran and Gramps. If they can see me from up there, wherever they are, I wonder what they’re thinking. I hope they’re not mad at me. Especially Mum. She was always harder on me than Dad was. Anne was her favourite, though I’m not sure I was Dad’s. He didn’t believe in favourites. I still prickle all over at the unfairness of it, after all these years. Still can’t properly forgive Anne, though I suppose it wasn’t her fault. Hate the idea of accepting charity from her. So kind of her, everyone keeps saying, to offer you a room in her house. And of course she ‘doesn’t expect any rent’. Makes me so mad. I’ll pay my way, whatever happens – I’ll make sure of that. I’m not having self-righteous Anne crowing over my downfall. She always steered well clear of the shop – had the sense to see it wouldn’t survive, I suppose. She and Clark, her horrible hubby. Yes, I know that’s mean, but he’s such a poncey prat, with his job ‘in the media’ – never found out for certain exactly what he does. Probably cleans the toilets at the local radio station, JuJu says. I’d love her to be right.
I’ll miss Castlehaven, I’ll miss the writing group and most of all, I’ll miss Ju. Been friends a long time. All that time her marriage was breaking up, and then more recently the trouble with Joe. I’ve done my best to help her and she’s done the same for me. I know we’ll only be forty miles apart but it’ll feel like a lot more. Just hope she can get her act together and start driving again, because I won’t have a car, I’ll have to take a bus and a train and another bus and…
The others, too, or some of them… Eva, for all her religious fervour, is a lovely person. Rud with his breakthrough – I’ll have to keep my eyes open for him, if he’s going to hit the big time with his books. Deserves it, he really does. And Will, of course… must make sure I keep in touch with him. He’s been a good friend as well as a faithful customer all these years. Never bought his Bournville chocolate from anywhere else, even though it meant an extra trek for him down the lane and back, and always had a cheerful word for me.
Helen… can’t say I’ll miss her much. She never had much time for me – probably wrote me off as stupid, uneducated, the rest. Tony… never got on with him either. Old Davie now – he’s pleasant enough and I love his stories about old Castlehaven. Pity no one else seems interested. I still think he could get them into the Dalesman if he keeps on trying.
Sam and Becca… never been able to make those two out. Sam all charm – I liked him at first but there’s been something recently… he’s too good to be true. And Becca never looks happy. Must be something wrong in that relationship. If I was staying, I should maybe try to find out more, see if I can… well, not necessarily help, but alert someone? No. I’m over-reacting, as I tend to do. She’s just shy and quiet. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, as my dad would say.
Who else is there? Oh, the new woman, Corinna. She seemed all right. Offered to help me bring out an e-book collection of some of my stories. I’d have taken her up on that. Been thinking about it for a while, just need someone to hold my hand, show me what to do. But it’s too late now. No time, before I leave. Could be as early as the end of next month.
Perhaps I should ask Eva to pray me a miracle. If only I believed! No, I’ve only myself to rely on, though I do believe there’s something somewhere – just no one waiting to answer my prayers. Probably just as well. God knows how much havoc might have been caused if He’d been answering my prayers all these years.
About the Author
Rosalie Warren was once a university lecturer, specialising in Artificial Intelligence and Natural Language Processing. But her earliest love was books and stories, and since taking early retirement ten years ago she has been following her dream of writing and publishing. For details of her publications for adults and children, including science fiction and romantic suspense, see http://srg521.wix.com/mybooks and https://www.facebook.com/RosalieWarrenAuthor/
Rosalie has been an exile from Scotland for the past fourteen years, but still has many happy memories of the wonderful city of Edinburgh, where her children were born and raised, and of the equally amazing Dundee, where she worked for a further three years. Going back even further, she was born and brought up in Yorkshire, and regularly returns there to visit a seaside place not so very different from the town of Castlehaven in her serial.
Rosalie is also a qualified proofreader and editor and (under the name Sheila Glasbey) her editing services can be found at http://www.affordable-editing.com/
Rosalie has been an exile from Scotland for the past fourteen years, but still has many happy memories of the wonderful city of Edinburgh, where her children were born and raised, and of the equally amazing Dundee, where she worked for a further three years. Going back even further, she was born and brought up in Yorkshire, and regularly returns there to visit a seaside place not so very different from the town of Castlehaven in her serial.
Rosalie is also a qualified proofreader and editor and (under the name Sheila Glasbey) her editing services can be found at http://www.affordable-editing.com/