Thursday, 6 February 2014

More Fiction from Sarah Miller Walters

My book, 'Seven Stories From the Seven Hills' is available on Amazon Kindle here:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Seven-Stories-Hills-Miller-Walters-ebook/dp/B008FIBX82

Price just 77p!

Here's an extract from the first story:


Left the Building
It wasn’t so long ago that if you worked in a betting shop, you finished early in the winter.  This was before the betting shop owners got too greedy, and the punters got too desperate.  Now it’s a 12 hour day free for all, with all lights flashing and an opportunity to bet on anything that can move.

For those that work behind the counter, the headaches have multiplied in response to this cacophony.  But even in the days of closing half an hour after the last horse race, there were moments of frustration.  Pauline was having one of those moments one day towards the close of the 1980s; in fact, she was having one of those decades.  The television screens showed the horses lining up at the start of the final race for the day.  Just three punters remained in the shop, each with a betting slip in their hand, ready to will on their chosen horse.  One till had been cashed up and Pauline had begun to empty the coin tray of the second.  She had a nice neat stack of ten pence pieces which represented one pound, and was working on another when the door bounced open.  Blown in by the winter gusts was a familiar Welsh rugby shirt, personed by a wild-eyed, red cheeked whirlwind.  Pauline knocked her ten pence stack across the pile of off-slip pads.  She looked over at the manager for support.  He put his red settling pen down, stood up and stretched to his full height.  “Now then, Ivan.  I hope you’re not after a bet on this race.  They’ll be off in a minute.”
“Oh, but I know what I want to back.  Let me see now.”  He began to pull a tangle of paper out of his jeans pocket.  Some pieces were betting slips, covered in his vague scrawl.  Others were ten and twenty pound notes, shoved in with little regard for its value.  “I got it all written out ready.”
Pauline rolled her eyes and put her hands on her substantial hips.  The horses were getting ready for the off.  She took the final off-slip of the day and waved it in front of his face.  “They’re going, Ivan.  It’s only furlongs, not miles.”
“Bessie’s Boy!  Bessie’s Boy!  Here’s a twenty!  Go on, put it me on!”
Pauline glanced at the manager, who was writing the bet out for him.  Soft.  Too young for the job.
“Paying tax, Ivan?”
“Not until I win.”
The bet was written, rung through and the off-slip passed through the camera within seconds.  Ivan took himself off to the front of the small group watching the screen, furtively donning a pair of wonky spectacles.  Pauline sighed heavily as she resumed counting the ten pence coins.
“It’s got to stop, that.  He does it at least twice a week and it’s no good for my nerves.  He shouldn’t be leaving it that late.”
“I know duck, but he spends a lot of money.  He’s good for my figures.  Do you want to go and mash and I’ll watch the counter?”
“Go on then, we’ll have a quick brew before we go.  I’ll go out and sweep up while the kettle boils.”  Pauline set the kettle going and went out into the shop with a battered grey long handled brush and dustpan.  She picked up a few tab ends and scrunched up slips, moving methodically around the punters.  None of them acknowledged her existence.  Suddenly, Ivan took a step back and threw his fist into the air.  “Come on Bessie’s Boy!  Come on Bess!” he yelled out with the lung strength of a stallion.  Pauline just happened to be sweeping around his feet at that moment, and her toes, clad in open sandals, took the brunt of his size 9s.

“Hooligan!”  She bellowed in his ear, dropping the dustpan and brush and hopping around in a small circle.  This small demonstration of agony went ignored by the culprit, who was by now scuppering any chance of anyone being able to hear the race commentary.  When it came to a close, there was no doubting that Ivan’s horse had won.  The other punters drifted away towards the door, one of them dropping his crumpled up losing slip onto the floor.  Pauline limped back to the counter and tipped her dustpan into the bin, before dedicating herself to making tea.  The manager paid Ivan out while she seethed and stirred the sugar in with equal vigour.  When she heard the jangle of keys locking the door, she deigned to come out of the kitchenette and finish cashing up.

No comments:

Post a Comment