Tag Archives: the flower shop

NaNoWriMo 2014, Week 4

It feels a tad fraudulent to hang this post on the NaNoWriMo title, because last Friday I had only 4000 words to go and over a week to finish. As it turned out, the miserable weather on Sunday meant I had some extra writing time and managed to complete the competition last weekend.
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Reverend Stocks hoisted himself up and vaulted over the top, landing with a thud the other side. The vicar had expected the back yard to be in darkness, but it was quite brightly lit from the small kitchen window at the back of the shop. He pulled back the bolts top and bottom, and Rufus squeezed past the dustbin and through the gate, looking into the kitchen. Although there were net curtains at the window, it was quite easy to see inside and he could make out the sink directly below him, the door to the shop and the other one leading up the stairs to the flat.
‘There’s nobody here,’ said Rufus as the vicar joined him.
‘What’s that?’
‘What?’ said Rufus.
‘Down there, on the floor, by the door.’
Rufus had to stand on tiptoe to see the floor.
‘It looks like a slipper, or a shoe or something,’ he said.
The vicar tried the handle on the back door, but it wouldn’t budge.
‘I’m getting a bad feeling here,’ he said. ‘Do you think we should break down the door?’
‘Or just call the police?’ replied Rufus. He didn’t want to get into any sort of trouble, not with them already half accusing him of theft.
The vicar had already decided though, and took a run at the door. The wood splintered easily around the lock, and the door flew open with the vicar stumbling over the threshold as it suddenly gave way.
‘Oh my God,’ he said. ‘There’s someone here!’
Rufus ran inside behind him. Myra was laying on the floor behind the shop counter, one foot showing through the door to the kitchen.
‘Myra! Myra! ‘cried Rufus, kneeling beside her and slapping her cheeks with the palms of his hands. ‘Paul, vicar, call an ambulance.’
The vicar picked the receiver up from the telephone on the counter and dialled 999.
‘Myra!’ Rufus kept saying, but she didn’t open her eyes. He felt her neck for a pulse, but there was nothing there so he put his ear to her half-open mouth. Nothing.
The vicar was watching what Rufus was doing as he told the emergency services where to come, and as soon as he finished he crouched down the other side of Myra.
‘She’s gone,’ said Rufus.
The vicar put his ear to Myra’s chest. He got up, slowly.
‘Poor Myra,’ he said. ‘Poor, poor Myra.’
‘What do you think it was?’ asked Rufus.
‘Maybe she died of a broken heart after losing Tom last week?’ said the vicar.
Rufus thought about the insurance policies he had seen in the flat. Myra didn’t seem particularly grief stricken when he was talking to her up there.
‘Perhaps she tripped over something and hit her head?’ said Rufus.
‘Could be,’ replied the vicar. ‘I guess the ambulance people will get the police involved.’
Rufus looked around the shop, but there was nothing unusual as far as he could see. Just the galvanised buckets with flowers in them, most of which had seen better days. Shelves with plant accessories, vases, ribbons and name tags, things that people buy when they buy flowers. A mug on the counter.
‘Looks as though she was having a mug of tea,’ said the vicar.
Rufus picked up the mug. He stared at its contents for a while, then took a small sip, instantly spitting it back into the mug.
‘She was having a drink,’ said Rufus wiping his lips with the back of his hand. ‘But it wasn’t tea.’

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Completing NaNo was exciting and brought much satisfaction, but not as much as receiving the result of my final OU module, U316 The Environmental Web, a week early. This was my third Level 3 module – you only need two for the BA(Hons), but I swung another one under the old funding structure – and it turned up trumps with a Distinction, giving me sufficient points to claim a First Class degree classification. So, that is the end of the Open University journey for me, unless (and this is highly unlikely) I go for a post graduate qualification. Watch this space!

There’s a new project on the table already. Stevenage has more than its fair share of ancient woodland, and in one of the woods where we walk the dogs there is a moat which apparently dates from around the 13th century. It is reported that inside this moat stood a homestead which, of course, is now long gone and the area looks much the same as the rest of the wood. I have been fascinated by the thought of this for many years. What would the homestead have looked like? What was life like for the family? How did they make a living? There appears to be very little information available, but I plan to track down what little there is and paint a mental image of life there 800 years or so ago. Wish me luck!

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NaNoWriMo 2014, Week 1

My ‘novel in a month’ for 2014 is on its way, to the tune of 17,000 words!

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The writing has gone quite smoothly so far, probably because I have a plot outline and the first few chapters mapped out.  I decided to use Excel this year for the plotting, and it’s turned out to be quite useful.  It’s easy to move the cell contents about, keep a note of the various goings-on, and make comments to follow up later (when I’ve forgotten what I was planning to happen next!).

Rufus had been a good copper.  He’d wanted to be one as early back as he could remember.  Most of his pals had their sights set on becoming a train driver, a pilot, the captain of a ship.  They all thought he was mad.  Then, as soon as he was old enough, Rufus had joined the local police cadet unit.  He left school after failing his A level exams, but sailed through his police entry tests.

The two year probationary period had gone well, and Rufus enjoyed being on the beat, chatting with locals and helping out the community whenever he got the chance.  He had no interest in applying to work in specialist fields, or taking exams for promotion to sergeant.  He was happy just being an ordinary copper.

Only thing was, his wife was not so happy.  She wanted a bigger house, a nicer car, finer clothes.  She wanted friends to envy her lifestyle.  Rufus took an evening job at a local supermarket to make ends meet.  Whenever he had time off at weekends, he did odd jobs for people for extra cash.

But still the credit card bills mounted up.  A luxury spa here, a posh hairdo there.

Word count for the first week is a bit surprising, because I made the (usually fatal) mistake of going back and re-writing a whole chapter.  But I’m still well ahead, and in line to finish on time.

Here’s my handy bar graph supplied by the NaNo people:

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It rather looks as though lots of people in London started off this year, but the word count is slowing down now.  I think the same thing happened last year.  Isn’t it amazing that about 13 million words have been written in the first week alone!  Here’s the London chart:

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Although it’s still early on in the challenge, I have high hopes of putting together a half decent story (unlike last year’s rather random plot).  It’ll need a few months of rewriting I’m sure, but fingers crossed there will be something reasonable at the end!

Best of luck to everyone who is having a go this year.

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