This page is has the opening paragraphs of a short story published by MIROnline, the  the online prescence of writing at Birkbeck College, University of London.

It was born out of my draft manuscript for The Baby Box.*

The story had to be complete, not an extract from a longer piece of writing. To achieve this I altered the beginning and the conculsion of the incident. This story was first published by MIROnline, The full text is here:


While the papers were full of Kennedy’s assassination, my news was that mum had given permission for me to spend the following weekend at Nick’s.

Straightaway I rang him.

I heard the disbelief in his voice. ‘For the whole weekend? Overnight?’

‘You suggested it.’

I didn’t tell mum that what he’d actually said was, I’d like to get you all alone on my double bed nor did I tell Nick that what mum had actually said was, ‘What’s his address? We’ll look up the road in the A-Z.’ And then, ‘It’s a posh road. That’s all right then.’

Honestly! I blushed for her. But still I said to Nick, ‘Can’t wait to see your house. You’ll call for me on Saturday?’

I was sixteen and still at school. Nick had finished with all that and was working at a printing firm specialising in classy posters, reproductions of Monet, Constable, that kind of thing.

He told me, ‘Totally male workforce with pictures of half-naked crumpet on the walls. The pay’s peanuts but the boss is an understanding man and lets me stay on during the evening, preparing my own plates and running off prints. Stage design, that’s what I’m going into next.’

I didn’t believe all the stuff about leading an arty life but I was excited about the forthcoming weekend. I wanted to be with him. I was in love.

Caravan (3)