Fiction. We're Doing It Right.
“I’ll go and ask if there’s somewhere we can get a cup of coffee, you just sit here,” and edgar went away, glad to have something to do. He returned with good news and escorted Betsy to the little coffee bar. “I told them at the nursing station to come and find us here if there was news that we could see the patient. I can’t help thinking it will be Harry – and dreading it too.” [Read more...]
While they were out Betsy answered a ring at the door-bell. A woman who looked to be in her late sixties (though it wasn’t easy to tell with all the muffled up clothing) stood there. She said, “Hello, I’m sorry I don’t know your name, I just know of you as Harry’s sister. I’m Hilda Lawson, Mr. Edgar Winterbottom’s landlady.” [Read more...]
They were all glad they’d taken the opportunity for the outing as the weather turned sour the very next day. Bitterly cold. “Too cold for snow,” observed Edgar, and it was. The wind howled from the east bringing the hard iciness of the plains of Siberia. The east wind rarely bothered that part of the south coast but this particular winter it roared over the whole of Britain. [Read more...]
The time soon passed with all the preparations and cleaning and so Edgar moved in. First his belongings, and he spent time arranging them. Then he went out again saying he’d be back soon.
When he rang the front doorbell Harry opened and was astonished to see his friend holding a large bunch of beautiful chrysanthemums. “For Betsy”, said Edgar, a little shyly.
The old friends agreed not to meet the following week. Edgar wanted to start sorting and packing his gear and Harry had decided to tackle the second of the wardrobe boxes.
“Here goes”, he huffed as he dragged it out onto the floor and untied the knots in the very thick string.
“Great balls of bulb fibre!” he exclaimed. [Read more...]
