competition entries

Winning stories of the 2009/10 Writer's Competition

judged by our honorary president, author Pamela Oldfield

Crossing Over

Gaynor Cobb

Judge's comments: This held my interest throughout although the pace is measured. A difficult subject which I would have found daunting but you did it very well indeed. The change of viewpoinr partway through, from patient to doctor, was skillfully done and well timed. The 'shadows' add a threatening note but are efficiently dealt with and the ending is just right. You have my wholehearted admiration for this excellent piece of writing.

Crossing Over

Gasping, Peter’s breathing laboured and he felt his eyes, drugged and heavy, closing against

the fading light of the room. They’ve given up on me, he thought and wondered if he’d given up

on himself after all. He’d been fighting, determined to survive, every hour a victory: but why? He

gasped again, knowing he was losing the battle. Why was life so dear to him when he couldn’t

think of anything to live for? His work perhaps? Even that had gone; the pain was too much. It

was all too difficult, even breathing, just staying alive was a Herculean task.

So, this was where it ended; this hospital room; little of comfort. There were cards, curled and

dusty, no messages of hope. What could they say, now they knew he was dying? Certainly not “

Get Well”. He was glad he couldn’t see their faces now, the forlorn eyes: comfortless. He’d kept

his sense of humour; just; cynical certainly. He would have laughed out loud( if he had been

able) had he seen the sombre black figure passing by the door, pausing, hand hovering over the

handle and then turning away with a shake of the head.

No, you’re not going to save my soul. I’m not changing my mind, through some misplaced fear.

This is it: the end. Peace at last. But not your peace. My peace; drifting into nothingness. Like

putting out the lights and closing the door on life. All over now, no more pain. As you would say,

alleluia to that. His chest tightened and the struggle increased with each laboured breath. No

more strength to fight, he thought. No-one here. Why wait for them to watch him die. After all,

they’d missed so much of his life. Tears would fall, but bitter angry tears. Why them? Why should

they have to suffer this.

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Reaping the Wind
by
Barbara Turner

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Winning stories of the 2008/09 Writer's Competition

This year, the competition had joint winners, Marion Chudley and Jean Bushnell. The task was to write a historical story for children.

Doodlebugs by Marion Chudley - joint winner

The Wedding by Kathleen Wrattten - highly commended

Doodlebugs by Marion Chudley

The two boys were sitting in the kerb, concentrating, their heads close together. From a distance they could have been twins with their sharp 'short back and sides', crumpled flannel shirts under fairisle pullovers and grey shorts. With grey socks dropped to their ankles even the scabs on their grimy knees seemed matched. They weren't twins but
they were cousins, born a couple of streets apart and friends virtually from birth. Johnny, ten days older and built on sharper lines was the leader, but Frankie of the dreamier mould frequently had the best ideas for imaginative games.
Deep in discussion they were debating the merits of the marbles each of them carried in a small drawstring bag, oblivious to the noisy game of cricket being played against the wall, the chattering housewives in their pinnys and head scarves, the girls skipping and the people with prams and shopping bags.
" Thisn's me best tolley. Won it off Jack. It's a fiver. Gotta a chip though. See just there."
"Good'un though, a fiver. My best's a fourer. Pete won me sixer yesterday. Got any plains? I 'aven't. Bought a new pack bu' there wasn't none in it."
"Got any swaps?"
"Nah! I've only got twenny left an' I promised to play our Janie tonight. Got two ball berians. Our Eric got 'em at the factory. Want one?"
"Ta!" Frankie reluctantly stuffed his marble bag into his pocket and stood up.
"Gotta go home."
"Nah"
"Me Mum'll kill me if I ain't there when she gets in."
"Go to my 'ouse. Got somefing ter show yer."
"Wot?"
"Our Eric's gotta bike. Says he's goin' to ride it to work, but it ain't got no pedals."

Johnny shot off at a run, arms wide like an aeroplane. Frankie sighed and obediently trotted after him. Johnny ran
flat out to the end of the street, turned the corner and dived down an alley. Together they kicked a stone from side to side, then marched along the next street pretending to be soldiers. Through a couple more alleys where they stalked an imaginary enemy.
"Sh!" Frankie flattened himself against the alley wall." He's over there." He hefted a 'pertend' rifle, gave Johnny a charge signal and they sprinted up the alley firing left and right.
"A.a.a.a.a.a.a.a. Got im!
"Agh! I'm shot." Frankie fell to the floor clutching his stomach. "I'm a gonna. Say g'bye to me muvver for me."

He rolled his eyes and lay dead. Johnny put an imaginary bugle to his lips and intoned a passable impression of the last post before they scrambled to their feet and sprinted off again.

A couple more streets brought them to Johnny's home, a small terrace with a strip of garden at the front so narrow you could knock at the door without opening the gate. Johnny put one foot on the bar intending to climb over, when a sound neither of them had ever heard before brought the street to a standstill. Like a freeze frame in a film, everyone stopped in their tracks and gazed into the air. A sort of rasping lawnmower sound came slowly nearer and as they watched a strange looking small plane appeared above the chimney pots at the end of the road, crossed diagonally and disappeared over the houses. The spell broken, people began to talk urgently and excitedly until the sudden
cessation of sound silenced them again. A few seconds of eerie quiet and then a 'whump' and the crash of falling masonry, a noise they did recognise. For a moment longer nobody moved and then a man's voice said loudly
"Blimey! A new kinda bomb. Ain't seen one like that before."

People began to move again, talking and gesticulating briefly before returning, resignedly if a little more subdued than before, to their tasks. Johnny climbed down off the gate.
"Wow! Let's go an' see!"
"Oh! no you don't." Johnny's mum, Peggy, erupted out of the chattering group and cut off their retreat. A tiny woman with red curls poking out from under her headscarf, and a hand made hard from her work in the laundry, they knew better than to argue.

"I want you two inside the house. There may be more to follow and I need to know where you are."
"Mu - um! We'll be all right. We wanna see what 'appened."
"No! Inside. Now!" She bustled them in and after a moment's slouch they settled under the kitchen table with Johnny's Spitfire while his mother started preparations for tea. Between finger and thumb Johnny wound the little plane in circles above his head while Frankie lay on his tummy and aimed 'ack ack' fire at it.
"I'm an ace. You'll never shoot me down."
"Can't we change over now? I'm fed up of being a Jerry. I'm always the German."
"Nah! It's my plane. Here's me Dad." Scrambling to his feet he shouted "Dad, Dad, did yer see that bomb plane? He ran round the room. "It went phut phut phut phut phut BOOM" and he exploded into a heap on the floor.
"Calm down, son. Hello Frankie. You all right, doll?" Peggy went to him with an anxious look on her face.
"Did you see or hear any strange planes?"

John dropped his railwayman's knapsack on the chair and shrugged tiredly. He was a big man, quite a
bit older than his dainty wife and although as a signalman his work exempted him from active service, it was still dangerous. The boys had stopped their game and were back under the table listening intently. If big John wasn't worried neither were they.
"I saw several. They're coming over from France, I think. Nasty things. They give you no warning. When their engine cuts out they just fall."
"The one we saw dropped only a couple of streets away. I think it must have done a lot of damage."

She sighed heavily. "I thought this war was supposed to be ending not getting worse."
"Never mind." He gestured to the table." Little rabbits have big ears."
The boys smirked at each other. They'd heard that one before.
"Dad! Can we go and look at the hole after tea?"
"Unlikely I thi..." There was a furious knocking at the door and Peggy's sister Joan almost knocked her brother in law over in her haste to get in.
"Oh God! 'ave you got our Frankie?" Then seeing him by the table with his eyes out on stalks she swooped on him and held him so tight he could hardly breathe.
"Oh! You're safe. Thank goodness. I thought you must be.... Oh my goodness." She sat down in the armchair with a thump and pulling the astonished Frankie on to her lap she burst into tears. Frankie looked in bewilderment at his Dad, Bill, who had followed his wife in. He patted his son awkwardly on the head and said
"You're in one piece lad. That's good. It's all right Ma, we've got 'im now. It hit our place, John. Well, not quite. Made a big 'ole in the road outside and blew in our front wall."
"What, the buzzybomb thing?" Peggy's face was calm but her concern was clear as she too gathered her son against her. Johnny who would normally have wriggled free recognised the shock in the room and stood still in his mother's arms.

After a pause while the adults looked at each other in silence. John turned to Bill.
"Can you stay in the house? Is it safe?"
"I don't really know, John. We were so concerned to find our Frankie we didn't wait. The ARP wardens, the police, ambulances and the fire brigade were swarming all over the place. Will yer come back with me and take a look?"
"Can I come too?"
"No! Stay here with your mother. We won't be long."

The men went out and Peggy moved towards Joan.
"You won't be able to stay there, certainly not tonight. Are you all right?"
"Yeah! Now I've found Frankie I'll be fine."
"Look, I was just about to dish up. Will yer feed the kids and make us a cuppa?" She touched Joan's arm. "Oh girl, you're shaking. Come 'ere."
She gave her a rough hug. "Can yer manage while and I go up and sort the bedrooms."
"Peggy, we can't stay 'ere. You ain't got room."
"We'll cope." She smiled and gave her sister a shove. "Make me some tea."
From their station under the table, the boys looked longingly at the door. Johnny tossed his head towards it, but Frankie shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. There were times you could risk not doing as you were told but they knew instinctively that with both their dads around this was not one of them.

By the time tea was over and Joan had gone off to find the men and try to collect some of their belongings, it was late enough for Peggy to pack the boys off to bed on the mattress which had been squashed between the double bed and the window in John and Peggy's bedroom. Fortunately it was Saturday the next day and only John was working. He did his best to step around the boys and go without waking them, but as he was creeping out of the door, he heard the now unnerving sound of a buzzbomb or doodlebug as people were already calling them and everyone woke up.
They sat completely, still staring at the ceiling and holding their breath while it droned overhead.
"Phew! It makes you feel bloomin' mean, 'oping it won't stop. Like wishing for it to drop on someone else."
"I hate them." Peggy slipped out of bed. "Now we're awake I'll come down and get breakfast for everyone."

As they ate they listened to the radio. There was a lot of talk about the doodlebugs. It seemed not many
of them were getting through to bomb London. They were very slow and many were being brought down by coastal defences, fighters could fly under them and tip them over so they fell into fields and at least one had flown into a barrage balloon.
"That's good news unless you're under it when it stops. Keep yer fingers crossed. Perhaps they won't send too many more if it's not working."
It was a great new game for the boys to play. They took the spitfire out into the street. Frankie made stubby little fins by putting his hands out to his sides and trotted slowly along the pavement buzzing.
Johnny zoomed out of hiding in the alley, tipped him out of the air with one wing and Frankie spun round and round, finally lying on his side and exploding.
Later they went with the three grown ups to Frankie's house. They stood side by side looking at the mess. Frankie took hold of his mother's hand and only just stopped himself from putting his thumb in his mouth, something he hadn't done for years. The gate and the fence weren't there, the front door and the windows were gone and the sill of the bedroom window was sagging over the space. Inside the sitting room everything was strewn about, the armchairs upside down, books scattered and torn, the light fitting hanging loose and glass and bricks all over everything. Bill put his hands on Frankie's shoulders and Joan leaned down close to him.
"It'll be all right, son. It can all be mended. They say it's not safe for us to go in yet, but most of your things upstairs will still be there."

Johnny was unusually serious.
"You can borra my stuff till it's fixed." His eyes widened and he gazed at his cousin. "Yer know what? If you'd gone 'ome yesterday...
"I'd of bin in there wouldn' I?" They stared solemnly at each other for a moment.

"I thought you were gonna to show me your Eric's bike".

Judge Pamela Oldfield's comments:

"This story has been well written, beginning and ending at exactly the right moments in the story. A simple but telling title (which took me back years!) was followed by a simple story well expressed. The dialogue rings true, and the story is exciting. You also managed to include plenty of information without making it sound contrived. Excellent."

Highly Commended

The Wedding

by Kathleen Wratten

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of

Francis Joseph Emperor of Austria

The Duchess Elisabeth Amalie Eugenie of Bavaria

St Augustine’s Church, Vienna

24^th Day of April 1854

Hofburg Palace

Vienna

July 1853

Dearest Mama

We are all beside ourselves with excitement. We have had news that the Emperor, Francis Joseph, is going with his Mama to meet with her sister, the Duchess Ludovica in the royal summer retreat in Ischl.

It is believed that the Archduchess Sophia does not like her sister, the Duchess Ludovica, but I think it is only that the house in Bavaria is not run to the strict rules of Spanish etiquette as we must do here at the Palace (you remember how difficult I found it when I first arrived to work as an under maid). I believe the younger daughter of the house is allowed to ride out alone!

But I am straying from the news. It is said that the reason for the visit is so that the Emperor may meet the Duchess’ elder daughter, Helen, and we are all expecting to hear of a betrothal.

Perhaps the new Empress will wish to have a younger lady in waiting, so I am working hard and trying to learn more of the ways of court. A lady in waiting must, of course, always be aware of the etiquette.

I shall write again soon and maybe it will be with good news.

I send my fondest love to Papa and Gregor and Phillip. I still miss my brothers and often think of when we all played together before I left for Vienna.

Your affectionate daughter

Matilde

Hofburg Palace

Vienna

August 1853

Dearest Mama

Oh it is so romantic; my heart is beating even as I write this letter so that I can barely contain myself. We had expected to have news of a betrothal after the visit of the Emperor and his mother to Bavaria, and so it was.

I will try and tell the story from the beginning, as all good stories should, and as it was told to me by one of the footmen, Johan.

The Emperor, Francis Joseph, and his mother, the Archduchess Sophia, went on their visit to meet the Countess Ludovica and her daughter, Helen, in Ischl. The Count could not leave for business reasons so the Countess had included within the party her youngest daughter, Elizabeth.

They had arrived in Ischl tired after the long journey and still wearing mourning clothes for the death of an aunt of the Queen of Bavaria.

Johan said that the Princess Helen looked pale and drawn and he was not surprised when the Emperor showed little attention to her, only as much as was polite. Instead he seemed captivated by the Princess Elizabeth who is tall, very slim and has the most incredible auburn hair that reaches almost to her knees.

The following day there was a ball and the Princess Helen looked glorious in her ball gown but it was too late – the Emperor had eyes only for the Princess Elizabeth or Sisi as everyone calls her. He danced with no one but her all evening and by the end everyone in the room was left in no doubt that the Emperor had fallen in love with the Princess.

The Emperor’s birthday fell the next day and amid all the celebrations he begged that his mother should go to her sister to ask for Sisi’s hand in marriage.

Oh, Johan said he had never seen the Emperor looking happier than he was that day.

On Sunday they went to Church and once Mass was over the Emperor took Sisi by the hand and asked for the Priest’s blessing on their future marriage. Can you believe anything could be more romantic, in front of the whole congregation?

They spent the entire month of July together in Ischl and everywhere they went people threw flowers and all was decorated in ribbons in celebration.

The Emperor has been much subdued since he returned to Vienna and I believe he is only waiting until he can see Sisi again.

Mama, Sisi is not yet sixteen, the same age as me. Perhaps I might be allowed to assist the ladies in waiting when she arrives at the Palace. It would be nice, do you not think, for her to have someone nearer her own age?

My love as always to you, Papa and my brothers. I expect they are much grown by now and I look forward to seeing you all again soon.

Your ever obedient daughter

Matilde

Hoffburg Palace

Vienna

January 1854

My dearest Mama

I do hope you and Papa and the boys spent an enjoyable Christmas. I would have so loved to be there with you but it was not to be. Here at the Palace it was very quiet and I’m sure nobody would have noticed if I had not been here but, as you always told me, duty must come first.

Just before Christmas the Emperor went to visit Sisi to celebrate her sixteenth birthday and I believe there were many balls thrown in their honour.

I am longing for the time when Sisi is made the Empress and I will be able to see the banquets and balls with my own eyes. The other maids have shown me where it is possible to spy upon these events without being seen.

I have learned much since my arrival and am looking forward to the time when I can practice all my learning.

Did you know that the Archduchess only wears her shoes once or twice and then they are replaced? It is to the benefit of the maids who receive the cast off shoes and I am ever hopeful of being able to have a pair of Sisi’s shoes once she is Empress.

I am finding the winter hard here in the Palace and long for the time when I could sit with you and Papa around the fire.

Please tell him and the boys that I think of them often and remember them every night in my prayers.

Your loving daughter

Maltilde

Hoffburg Palace

Vienna

March 1854

Dearest Mama

I am so glad that spring is nearly with us again. The winter in Vienna has been long and hard. My hands are often raw and bleeding from the cold.

There is one piece of good news to cheer us all up. It is only one month before the wedding of the Emperor and Sisi and the whole country is turning into a sea of blue and white, the colours of Bavaria. There are new awnings outside every café and even the bonnets in the milliner’s windows are all in blue and white.

Every church is having its dome and steeple polished and a new bridge has been built across the river for the bride’s state entry into the city.

They say that every convent throughout the land is busy stitching the bride’s trousseau.

The Archduchess had been overseeing the decoration of the new Empress’s apartment in both the Hofburg and Schonbrunn Palaces and I have to say they look quite magnificent.

I have to tell you, dear Mama, of a near disaster here at the Palace. The Emperor commissioned the court jeweller to make Sisi a tiara as a personal present. We were all allowed to take a look and it was a beautiful crown studded with diamond stars. Quite the most lovely thing I have ever seen. Well, the Dowager Empress Caroline Augusta arrived to take a look, she bent too close and her shawl caught in one of the stars. The crown was sent crashing to the ground and all the ladies in waiting were murmuring about bad luck signs. The crown has been taken away for the jeweller to repair in time for the wedding and we have all been told not to make mention of this mishap to the new Empress for fear of upsetting her.

Dear Mama I do wish you and Papa could come to Vienna to see the wedding procession. It is sure to be like nothing you have ever seen before.

My love, as always to you and Papa.

Your loving daughter

Mathilde

Hoffburg Palace

Vienna

April 1854

Dearest Mama

They are married! The Emperor Francis Joseph and his bride the Empress Elizabeth looked so happy it is impossible not to believe that they will live together happily for the rest of their lives.

Sisi’s dress was white and silver strewn with myrtle blossom and made her look so fragile. I was lucky enough to see her as she left the palace as it would have been impossible to do so in the streets. There were so many people that it took them nearly an hour to travel the short distance to the church.

It was as she was leaving the carriage that her crown caught on the framework and, for a brief moment, looked as though it might slip from her head. She managed to adjust it and took the Emperor’s hand.

For just a second everyone who knew of the incident with the Dowager held their breath and the Emperor turned quite pale but all quickly recovered.

I know you will call me fanciful Mama but I cannot help but think that this may be an ill omen. I do hope I am wrong.

With much love from your daughter

Mathilde

Marsh Ink

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