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RACING GREEN JAGS - Chapters 3 to 5

  3   My head was right back into shape as I walked into the shop to stare at a frown that made Julie’s good looks unnaturally severe. Even ten minutes late needed an explanation. She didn’t say a word but her fingernails clicking the counter top demanded an answer. So I told her I had helped a dying man at the scene of a car crash.     Now, I know I shouldn't have and people will disapprove but a slight exaggeration does wonders for opening up opportunities within a large busy clothes store and in this particular store they were numerous. Things were that lax. Julie did look at me hard with her forty something year old eyes and adjusted the sleeves of her neat blue blouse. The one with the puffy sleeves she wore that I liked. From the young girl range brought in for the summer. A trim size ten.     I could tell, you know, just by looking at girls what size they were. That was the beauty of working in a fashion store that catered for both sexes. The place just crawled with girls. A

RACING GREEN JAGS - Chapter 2

As we wandered along the alley there was no time to wonder about Take Six man. I noticed Monkie was limping. Not so much though, just a bit here and there, but enough for me to wonder.     Then I decided he must be a mind reader because, the next moment, he said, “That was a tough one. The Jag was going the fastest I’ve ever had to handle but I don’t think I misjudged the speed, I think the guy might’ve slightly tweaked the throttle as he got close to me. He almost had me but… I got away with it... Anyway, thanks for the help. The name’s Monkie.”    I grinned one of my specials at him, “That’s very appropriate, don't you think, considering. Anything to do with long tails and trees or were you named in anticipation?”    Monkie shrugged, “Something like that, I suppose… Anyway, Tommy Monk. Hence the…”    “Monkie. That’s a relief. I had visions of you unzipping your human suit when you arrived home from the fancy dress party… Rich. That’s me.”    “What literally?” Monkie had a look of

RACING GREEN JAGS - Chapter 1

RACING GREEN JAGS A Short Novel  First Chapter - Further chapters will be posted in order so stay in touch and don't miss out on a great story. It was when I first saw Monkie and coincidentally the first time he saw me just before eight on a Saturday morning spring of ‘66 shortly after the train had pulled into the station. I felt rough, there was no doubt about that. So rough I felt lucky to be there considering how the previous night’s entertainment had gone. What with all the drink and then, of course, the hospital visit didn’t help.     Walking away from the platform I dodged through the crowds, swung past a lady with a twin pushchair full of screaming kids who made my head hurt, came out of the station and there was Monkie stepping off the bus but not just getting off, he made a real show of it. As the bus slowed towards the stop he swung around the pole to agilely land on the pavement with a big dip of his knees. Spun, kind of shook his head throwing his long blond fringe acr

Broken Teeth and The Dentist

“So, you’re telling me the fella just fell over in the street. Just like that. No push. No shove. He just simply landed on his face.” This was the policeman talking standing next to the open door of his patrol car. The open door that hung over the pavement. That he was leaning on while he talked to the man, “Yeah, that’s just about how it happened,” replied the man with the long dark coat. Hands in his pockets. Collar turned up against the cold night wind. Black knitted beanie on his head. Standing just in the shadows. The tall van shutting out the glow from the nearby street light. “Just like that and he happened to fall flat on his face and knock all his front teeth out.”      “You’ve got it,” replied the man. “So, it was you who called the police?” “Sure was and the ambulance which like I said is on its way. I saw him fall and thought he might need help.” “You didn’t help him then?” “Nope. I’ve done the first aider courses. Rule one: don’t move the patient. Rule two: no pain kil