To Be a Thief: And Other Fateful Tales

© Copyright 2012 John Margeryson Lord.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Printed in the United States of America.

isbn: 978-1-4669-0580-1 (sc)

isbn: 978-1-4669-0579-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011961345

Trafford rev. 01/17/2012

www.trafford.com

North America & international

toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

phone: 250 383 6864 ♦ fax: 812 355 4082

Contents

Disclaimer:

Dedication:

DESPERATION

THE WAR OF THE ROSES

THEN HE GREW UP

THE INVENTOR

THE WOODWORKER

TO BE A THIEF

TIME AND SPACE

TERRIFIED

THE CHEMISTRY SET

SANITY MISLAID

KING CANNILOPE’S BEARD

AN UNWANTED FIND

QUILT

TO BUY A WIFE

Disclaimer:

All the characters in this book are purely figments of my imagination and any resemblance to any person alive or dead is not intended.

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to all would be writers as they, for whatever reason, attempt to find words to bring to the blank page situations and emotions which up until then lived only in their imagination, and to breath life into them.

DESPERATION

A heady mixture of determination and anticipation drove her on. She had embarked on this commitment and she needed desperately to succeed. Failure, she felt, would stain the rest of her life. The very thought of not succeeding made her feel physically sick. It was at this moment simply the most important thing in her young life.

From the very first instant she read the press announcement, she had been able to think of little else.

Both her loving parents were firmly set against it. Her father especially had no understanding of her desperate need, and tried in every way possible, short of forbidding her, to prevent it. Her mother, however, whilst expressing her grave doubts, did appear to understand why it was so desperately important to her.

So then, here she was about to leave the comforting protection of her home to make her way, as best she may, to Britain’s capital city on this once only journey. If she were to succeed she would need every single penny of the money she had so carefully put aside for the bus and train fares—but a significant part of the trip would essentially need to be on foot. In his attempt to discourage her, her father had refused point blank to take her by car, or to advance any extra funds. He was, it has to be said, unhappy that his actions would probably increase the risk to his daughter.

`Well if you must go through with this mad idea, you will do it without my help.’ Her father had said—and he had matched words with deeds.

She did not feel badly about his attitude, she felt that in some way she understood.

If their roles had been reversed she may well have acted just as her father had. He was after all only trying to protect his only daughter from what he saw as a possibly risky venture.

And so with a grim face she shouldered her burden, said goodbye to her folks and turned up the street heading for the railway station. Avoiding the bus saved her money but it was just over a mile—a mile not without its own risks. But it was May 1992 and the day had been warm and dry, and the evening was still lit by a smouldering sun sitting just above the roof tops, and she had allowed herself plenty of time for the ten-past-seven train to London.

Gratifyingly the weather men had had said that it would remain warm with only a small chance of the odd light shower.

On she trudged.

The first hazard was the pub on the corner, the Dog and Gun, where a group of youths with not much money and nothing to do were hanging about outside clutching precious bottles of alcoholic refreshment, and were intensely and loudly arguing the merits of various football players and teams. They would show little respect for a girl obviously on her own and vulnerable.

`Hallo darlin’ any chance of a romp with me?’

`No need to go any further—what you need is already here.’

`Come with me and I’ll cook you breakfast in the morning.’

`I can promise you a good time gal.’

Then one of the gang grabbed hold of her and tried to kiss her. But she was saved from this and any further ordeal by the sudden appearance of the landlord who had ventured outside to see what all the fuss was about. He had the decency to offer her an apology whilst threatening to ban the lads.

The incident upset her greatly, and what was worse it had caused her some delay, but she bit her lip and tried to walk faster—the train wouldn’t wait, and to her relief she arrived at the appropriate platform with a few minutes to spare. Unfortunately her joy was short lived, an announcement over the loud-speaker system advised that the London train was delayed by engine failure and would be at least thirty minutes late. Upsetting though this was, she had no choice but to wait.

At the booking window she ordered and paid for her ticket, some of her precious cash gone. When asked, the railway official had no better information about the train.

`This one’s nearly always late,’ he stated unhelpfully.

As she sat on the hard wooden seat she reflected on the lead up to this adventure. When the realisation as to what it meant in commitment and risk dawned on her she felt at first that she stood no chance. Her courage almost failed her even before she had made the decision. She had tried to persuade her best friend Enid to join her, the trip being much safer with two people, but Enid’s father had reacted in a similar manner to her own—and Enid had given in.

She had made a number of enquiries and had concluded that this would be the very last chance and if she missed it the opportunity would be gone for ever,—

Gone, lost, irretrievable, missed, unrecoverable, finished, ended, vanished, never to be, and she would always know that she could at least have made the attempt.

She had decided therefore to go for it. And having thus decided her whole attention was taken up with planning and it was only now when the journey had barely begun that serious doubts began to make themselves felt. One by one the things that could go wrong popped un-requested into he thoughts. Some were so perilous that her heart shrank at her contemplation of them. The train was nowhere in sight so there was ample time to turn back. The temptation was great. Her parents would be delighted to see her. The desire to return home with its familiar surroundings was almost overwhelming. She could cope with the `I knew you couldn’t do it.’

And she almost gave in.

She stood up and took just one small step towards the exit.

But it was only one.

She sat down again clutching her ticket to wait for the train.

It was simply that the pain of disappointment that she would forever know she had missed would stay with her for the rest of her life. She would always remember that she had failed. She wanted this thing to the exclusion of any arguments or reasonings.

And now she was back on track, and would remain so from now on. She dismissed any further thoughts of going back, all her attention being given to the task in hand.

The day began to fade and to cool.

Time seemed to stand still.

The only activity at the station was the arrival of a couple of trains on the opposite platform disgorging workers and shoppers returning home from the city.

Then after what seemed a lifetime the sound of an approaching train on the city line reached her ears.

This was it—she felt that now she was definitely on her way—no turning back now.

She boarded and found two empty seats, sat and rested what she had with her on the other seat and for the first time relaxed. Peace was however denied her.

Opposite her on the facing seat was one of those irritating individuals who insist on starting a conversation. In his case it was only a one way discussion as he began to relate the story of his exceptionally dreary life. He began with his days at school where his only notable achievement seemed to be that of falling off the roof of the science block whist retrieving a mis-kicked ball—and surviving.

She profoundly wished he hadn’t.

His job as an output checker at a local electrical wholesaler warehouse was even more uneventful. Every now and then he would check to see if she was still paying attention by asking her a question about herself, but before she could reply he would continue to relate his life story.

She was grateful when they arrived at his station and he simply got up and left without so much as a goodbye.

However her new peace of mind was short lived as the guard’s harsh voice over the speaker system interrupted her thoughts with an announcement that because they were running late the train would be diverted to a different terminus. `—apologises for the inconvenience caused,’ the voice finished. This meant that she would have much further to go with a subsequent loss of time. Her heart sank but strangely her determination hardened.

The train drew to its final halt and as she walked out onto an unfamiliar street she was almost overwhelmed by a feeling of sheer panic, as she realised that she had no idea how to get from here to her intended destination. It was now quite dark and the streets were emptying, but