Last week, Mark T Kelly continued our London chain story. Here is the fourth chapter, written by Time Out reader Owain Paciuszko. Thanks to everyone who contributed.
Chapter Four by Owain Paciuszko
Betsy began to feel like a Russian doll as what had started as a spacious back seat became a cargo crate and then, many hours later, the boot of a much smaller car. The sounds of the outside world had become a blur of traffic noise. Like a child she ached to cry out ‘Are we there yet?’ and the thought made her smile.
Mo fell into the chair, cupped the mug of coffee with her hand and let the heat sink in and scold her a little. She felt impotent. If she were a detective in a film she would have leapt into action, following a string of intimately collected clues towards the inevitable twist of a conclusion. Instead she feebly traced the keys of the computer and let her eyes scan the other faces of this café. Were they all searching for someone too?
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Her mother and father had seemed fractured; split down the middle.
Betsy had been the only thing holding them together since her father’s affair. It had been five years and the memory was still there, like a fog, clouding her mother’s eyes. Sometimes Mo longed to lash out at her father, pummel her fists against him until she could no longer stand.
If only she could talk to her mother about it, find out what had transpired between them, understand how she ever forgave him.
The coffee had gone cold and a light skin had formed. Oblivious she took a sip and immediately dribbled it back into the mug. When she looked up the waiter was staring at her, amused.
‘Sorry,’ she said dabbing at her lips with a napkin.
‘Would you like another?’ he asked.
‘Please’ He lifted a fresh mug from his trayand set it down by Mo’s hand.
‘Sugar?’ Before she could reply tossed two sachets, which she caught.
He knelt down by her table and looked awkwardly at the floor. ‘It’s funny, I see a lot of people with a lot of problems come and go here. Normally I just let them pass me by. But you, you seemed so lost, so hurt. I thought to myself: I wish there was some miracle I could perform to change all that.’
Mo smiled. ‘So you brought me coffee?’
‘It’s all I know how to do.’ She realised she was flirting and quickly she chastised herself. Her mind had become distracted for far too long. She shook her head and turned away. He was embarrassed and stood.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered.
‘No, don’t be. I’m looking for someone and I’ve already wasted too much time.’
‘Can I help? I know people.’
His tone was suggestive and promising. His name tag read ‘Tobias’.
10 comments
Judging from the responses, it seems all are writers wanting to take a stab at writing the next installment. Eventhough we are now on the 13th installment, most of these responses happen to be for the first, a bit misleading in a way until you read carefully.
I'm confused - the title is "A London Story" but what's being published bears little or no relation to it. Babygirl appears to have been spirited AWAY from London; the frequent flashbacks to Germany are quite simply bizarre; thank god Howard Dorman has paid attention to the title!! This story is utterly depressing.
I think the best way to trace Franz would be to place a sheet of translucent paper over an old photograph of him and then carefully sketch his outline with a soft pencil, adding as much detail and colour for realism as possible.
It's no doubt that the piece is well written and would be a good read, but it's a genre. Toby did what he does -write well and about something he has a story in his head about. But if the TimeOut people wanted a large participation then it would have been better to start us off at a path with many possible paths.
Hmmm, nice idea, shame the first chapter is less than inspirational.
Really fun idea, but agreed the beginning doesnt leave a lot to work with at all. I guess the next chapter will really set the tone in stone. Also a deadline wld be nice for submissions (!)
Sorry to change the subject chaps,but I've just noticed that the capricious gods of the Time Out books section have once again ignored our prayers for the listing of our poetry club which they insist is finished. NO !
Y Tuesday poetry club, Tuesday 6th March 2007, 8pm, 3 Kings pub, Clerkenwell close EC1
London's cosy, candle lit club with a cat, 1 year old and going strong. Still a whopping FREE to get in.
Great idea, but a deadline when entries have to be in by each week would be useful. I couldn't see on in the mag or on the site.
Great Idea!! This would have been great fun, just wonder why you had to start us off so somberly with negativity looming in the future. It leaves us very little versatility. Hope you give us the chance again and start us off with a little lighter feeling and a chance for a diverse plot. I'll be looking forward to it.
Nice start Toby, rich with promise and all sorts of potential. It's inspired me to attempt an entry, but I'm a bit rubbish at fiction. Looking forward to the next episode folks.