Ok so it’s national short story week and to celebrate it I have combined the one rule of book club (to read a Christmas book in December) with one of the groups suggestion that we write our own short story and come up with my own Christmas short story. Ok so it’s not very Christmassy and it’s not really a short story, more like a first Chapter/Introduction but it’s better than nothing and it is called Advent. So if you’re sick of reading me banging on about how rubbish a book is then let’s turn the tables. Read it then critique away! Eek! PS don’t forget to let me know your #MarksOutOfTen or #ReviewInANutshell on twitter @crambookclub
Advent
Christmas is coming! It’s at last the first day of December, the first day of advent. While most people are waking up to chocolate shaped santas behind little foil doors Grace wakes up to a knife being held to her throat by a man she doesn’t know. She is bound, cold and doesn’t remember how she arrived at the dark room with the damp cement floor. The man leans into her. He is dressed in black and in the darkness Grace can only make out the outline of his face. She can smell his breath, cigarettes and as he brushes up against her ear to whisper something to her she can feel his rough stubble grazing her skin. ‘Merry Christmas Grace it’s going to be your last’ The knife moves to cut as Grace screams.
Harriett returned to her seat just as the phone stopped ringing. Damn she thought the boss will no doubt have caught that. With a sign she ushered her rather plump rear on to her squeaky office chair and replaced her earphones ready to resume her typing. It was then she noticed a plain white A4 envelope had been placed on her desk, lying on top of the pile of filing she was supposed to have already done. Harriett sighed again, missing a ringing phone was one thing but not even noticing someone had arrived in reception and then left was another. It would no doubt be one of her bosses regulars who would no doubt mention it to Mr Rigby very loudly in her presence the next time they came to visit. Harriett picked up the envelope, it wasn’t addressed to Mr Rigby but Harriett knew better than to open it. She pushed back on her squeaky office chair, walked to the heavy imposing wooden door knocked and waited until the words ‘come in’ were heard before opening it. Envelope for you’. Harriett said passing Mr Rigby head of Rigby and Co Solicitors for the last 30 years the envelope. The stern very well dressed English gentleman took it from Harriett and started to open it. Harriett turned to go but just as she reached the room the expected comment came ‘I do believe the phone rang 6 times without it being answered I pay you to answer it so earn your keep.’ ‘Yes Mr Rigby’ Harriett replied and returned to her desk.
‘Who gave you this?’ Harriett turned with a start. Mr Rigby seldom entered the reception preferring to bellow his orders from behind his mahogany desk. ‘Erm I’m not sure Mr Rigby, the envelope was left on my desk’ stuttered Harriett ‘I suppose this was whilst the phone was ringing as well was it? Incompetent woman’ And with that he stomped into his office and slammed the door.
Retreating to his desk Charles Theobald Winchester Rigby once again opened the envelope. Inside was a lock of hair attached to a letter. Bracing himself he re-read its contents.
For the first day of Christmas I give to you a lock of golden hair. I have been kind, tomorrow I will not be. I will remove a piece of Grace Harper for every day of advent until I either get what I want or Christmas Day arrives. At which point Grace Harper will be returned, whatever is left of her.
Rigby reached for his phone dialled a number from memory and waited as it rang 3 and then 4 times. The phone was picked up ‘Detective Inspector Robert Crow’. ‘It’s Rigby, I’ve received a very interesting letter concerning Grace Harper’ silence followed as Rigby knew it would ‘Meet me at 11, usual place make sure you’re not followed’ came the reply. Rigby was just about to hang up when Crow followed up with a further sentence ‘God help us’. The line went dead.
Advent
Christmas is coming! It’s at last the first day of December, the first day of advent. While most people are waking up to chocolate shaped santas behind little foil doors Grace wakes up to a knife being held to her throat by a man she doesn’t know. She is bound, cold and doesn’t remember how she arrived at the dark room with the damp cement floor. The man leans into her. He is dressed in black and in the darkness Grace can only make out the outline of his face. She can smell his breath, cigarettes and as he brushes up against her ear to whisper something to her she can feel his rough stubble grazing her skin. ‘Merry Christmas Grace it’s going to be your last’ The knife moves to cut as Grace screams.
Harriett returned to her seat just as the phone stopped ringing. Damn she thought the boss will no doubt have caught that. With a sign she ushered her rather plump rear on to her squeaky office chair and replaced her earphones ready to resume her typing. It was then she noticed a plain white A4 envelope had been placed on her desk, lying on top of the pile of filing she was supposed to have already done. Harriett sighed again, missing a ringing phone was one thing but not even noticing someone had arrived in reception and then left was another. It would no doubt be one of her bosses regulars who would no doubt mention it to Mr Rigby very loudly in her presence the next time they came to visit. Harriett picked up the envelope, it wasn’t addressed to Mr Rigby but Harriett knew better than to open it. She pushed back on her squeaky office chair, walked to the heavy imposing wooden door knocked and waited until the words ‘come in’ were heard before opening it. Envelope for you’. Harriett said passing Mr Rigby head of Rigby and Co Solicitors for the last 30 years the envelope. The stern very well dressed English gentleman took it from Harriett and started to open it. Harriett turned to go but just as she reached the room the expected comment came ‘I do believe the phone rang 6 times without it being answered I pay you to answer it so earn your keep.’ ‘Yes Mr Rigby’ Harriett replied and returned to her desk.
‘Who gave you this?’ Harriett turned with a start. Mr Rigby seldom entered the reception preferring to bellow his orders from behind his mahogany desk. ‘Erm I’m not sure Mr Rigby, the envelope was left on my desk’ stuttered Harriett ‘I suppose this was whilst the phone was ringing as well was it? Incompetent woman’ And with that he stomped into his office and slammed the door.
Retreating to his desk Charles Theobald Winchester Rigby once again opened the envelope. Inside was a lock of hair attached to a letter. Bracing himself he re-read its contents.
For the first day of Christmas I give to you a lock of golden hair. I have been kind, tomorrow I will not be. I will remove a piece of Grace Harper for every day of advent until I either get what I want or Christmas Day arrives. At which point Grace Harper will be returned, whatever is left of her.
Rigby reached for his phone dialled a number from memory and waited as it rang 3 and then 4 times. The phone was picked up ‘Detective Inspector Robert Crow’. ‘It’s Rigby, I’ve received a very interesting letter concerning Grace Harper’ silence followed as Rigby knew it would ‘Meet me at 11, usual place make sure you’re not followed’ came the reply. Rigby was just about to hang up when Crow followed up with a further sentence ‘God help us’. The line went dead.
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