MINUTES
OF THE MEETING OF THE FELIXSTOWE SCRIBBLERS HELD ON TUESDAY 2NDAPRIL
2013 AT THE ROOM AT THE TOP IN FELIXSTOWE LIBRARY
Prior
to the meeting there was a impromptu discussion about the Duties of
Secretary. Barry has been doing the job magnificently well for a very
long time but was feeling that he wasn’t getting much of his own writing
done. So between Barry, Dave and myself, we proposed that the duties
would be shared between myself and Barry. This was discussed with the
Committee once the meeting had started proper and there were no objections to
this and therefore I was voted in as Assistant Secretary by Dick, Les and
Beryl.
Apologies
were received from Angela who was unable to attend and Ray who has been unwell
but hopes to ‘return to the fold’ in the very near future.
A
lively and very enthusiastic meeting commenced at 19.30 hours and those present
were:
Dave,
Barry D, Barry M, Les, Dick, Liliane, Beryl, Tony,
Cathy, and myself.
SUBJECT
FOR THE EVENINGS WRITING WAS YESTERDAY
Barry D started us off with his piece entitled
The Mode l ‘A’.
In
November 1913 at the tender age of 10 a young lad called Matthew emigrated to
America with his parents. His Father was a high flyer in the ‘stocks and
shares’ World. Matthew as part of his indoctrination into similar work
attended business school in Hamburg and New York. When he was twenty five
and a senior, well respected trader he met the love of his life a red head
called Eva. They lived in a big house much too big for them and their
needs but this was the lifestyle of these young entrepreneurs.
In 1931
his wealthy father Hermann advised him to invest in an ‘up and coming’
franchise in the Model ‘A’ Ford, which he did with much enthusiasm, this would
be a huge investment in the future.
Unfortunately
for many there was the huge Stock Market Crash in August and Matthew was now in
so much debt, declared bankrupt and the bailiffs were on their way. Into
the garage he went one day, closing the door behind him with his bottle of
whiskey. Sitting in his Mode ‘T’ shiny green car he turned on the engine and
taking a further swig of his Dutch courage, he fell asleep amongst the carbon
monoxide fumes ,tragically taking his own life.
Cathy’s was an untitled piece with a very
surprising twist. All about a man who had (we thought) accidentally run over
his wife’s precious rug-rat (what else would you call it?) Angelina’s beloved
dog,’ Tilly Po’. To say she was not a happy lady would be an understatement and
with ‘the silent treatment’ and the ‘slamming’ his dinner down in front of him,
was her way of showing her distain.
When
the family came visiting later they were in the corner huddled together and
crying with dismay. It was agreed by his wife and her daughter he should be the
one tell the youngsters as they ran around the house calling her name, how he
had managed to kill this poor dog and where she was buried. Now he thought how
am I going to tell them that she was bundled into a black bin-liner and put in
the freezer, alongside my first wife’s body. I had killed her too, when she
dared to come back to me after running off with the waiter she met on holiday,
when it all went ‘tits’ up!!
Tony’s slice of the evening came as an
excerpt from ‘The Following Wind Deeply’ his ongoing novel of interesting
characters and twisted plots. All about a Five Profit Coin machine that
‘Sword of The Kings’ Norman was trying to gets to ‘grips’ with. Although at one
point feeling suicidal over not being able to ‘crack’ this particular ‘nut’ he
wasn’t one to ‘duck the issue’. After great perseverance the key to unlock the
intrigue was ‘slotted’ in and five hundred coins came spiralling out, making
the lights flash ‘loud and glary. Among the eight thousand, nine hundred
and twenty seven choices of songs five were chosen and they were Yesterday,
Yesterday Forever, Yesterday Has Gone, Yesterday Once More and finally
Yesterday’s Dream. Who could have known that Norman could be insulted by
those ‘pesky’ five profit coins outwardly shown by his Juke Box Fury.
Beryl’s story came next, with part of her
novel (based on her family history) entitled’ Rue and Roma’ and her piece this
evening entitled ‘The Visit’. During 1931 on a wild March afternoon (as
we have seen this year they can be very wild). Sadie a beauty of her time
(although she couldn’t see it) was sitting with her family and their good
family friends , The Golds’. Bella lived in a three bed-roomed house in
Sebastian, East End. While sitting there at Passover , eating their
squashed in pickled, cucumber sandwiches, Sadie was getting more and more
flushed with embarrassment.
There
were ongoing discussions about the ‘real’ man, perhaps a potential beau?
Nice looking, very presentable, able to run his own shop,
single-handed. All this talk while Bella was trying to eat her cheesecake
unnoticed and untroubled ‘diving in’ to her copy of Virginia Wolf. She
caught Rudolf’s eye and she saw a look of kindness there, as well as deep
seated sadness too. Try as she might this shy, dainty, unassuming girl couldn’t
distract her attention away but saw John Gielgud, a Romeo in her mind’s eye.
Liliane's story was 'Time To Forgive' (part of Liliane’s ongoing Saga
about her family and it’s history in the early 19th Century). It was a time
for healing and forgiveness. He was an illegitimate child but he found it so
hard to forgive his Mother. He was brought up by her and his ‘Uncle Bobby’ but
he often wished that she had had an abortion. As a student, tucked
away at boarding school with plenty of time to think about things, often
wondering about who his real father had been. He always felt a bit odd
and needed to know where his roots lay and about his father.
His Mother insisted that she never meant to get pregnant, it wasn't a
planned pregnancy, she just had too much to drink one night and her son was
born as a consequence of that one night stand.
That did not help him though he was an angry young man and wanted some
answers to his questions.
Dave’s Scribblings this evening were called
‘What Will Tomorrow Bring?’ All about a thirty-something guy who suited and
booted goes off to London for an interview, along with, or so it seemed, half
the British Rail Workforce on a ‘jolly’ for the day. During the interview
much to his delight he’s told, “You have this prestigious promotion but don’t
tell a soul”. He came out expressionless keeping the secret to himself,
to see several other hopefuls yet to be interviewed.
With a
skip and a jump and an armful of flowers for his ‘dearly beloved’ he got on to
return train, much sooner than anticipated and headed home in a taxi, to spread
the good news. Letting himself in, the house seemed quiet at first, until
unfamiliar or unusual sounds he heard coming from upstairs. The bedroom door
was slightly open and there were mingled clothes scattered over the
floor. There in bed, making passionate love was ‘the love of his life’ in
the arms of his best friend as they made passion together in front of his eyes
(he was speechless and horrified).
They
had been ‘caught in the act’ of course no denials could be uttered. It
was here in ‘black and white’ for all to see. The guilty pair struggled to
leap, dress and scarper. All at the same time, which is almost an
impossibility.
How
long could this have gone on under his very nose, in his own bed, with his wife!
He felt sick to his stomach but insisted that a large brandy was needed fast,
not just one but several. How could she do this to me, how could he, my
best friend in the World?
Sonia
could plead forgiveness for ‘a week and a day’ but he wasn’t having any of
it. My life has truly changed but for better or worse only time will
tell!!
Les’s words were entitled ‘Eighty
Years of Yesterdays’ reminded us that at 12 years old it wasn’t just paper boys
and girls that got up early to have a job. Les worked in a cafe before
school, then at lunch time, running between suppliers carrying sweet and
savoury treat’s from supplier to the cafe to sell to customers. One time
as he skimmed across the walls, with the speed of a gazelle he slipped and tore
a chunk out of his shin. He just ignored it, although painful until much
later when his sister unravelled the ‘stuck on sock’ to try and make it much
more comfortable for this brave lad.
Another
time he helped his brother, who worked in a scrap yard to empty a place at
Stamford Hill. They found junk galore but headed back with their barrow
full of the best bits, one wearing a frock coat and a bowler hat that he’s
found. Spotted by their sister who told Mum, which caused trouble.
Then
there were the weekends in their caravan at Debden. with Joanie, Steve and
Pete. When the boys, once old enough, to tent up in the next field,
invited them to dine in their tent! A gorgeous casserole full of meat and
fresh vegetables, fit for a king. Wondering where all the food had come
from, they got the meat at the butchers but the vegetables from the farmer’s
field (according to them a country tradition). Only enough for their meal
not greedy! Also of fine Sunday breakfasts at the Minster Bar they ran. It
seems they had taught their boys well, without actually trying.
Dick’s tale was of a surprise birthday bash
for a 70 year-young lady who apparently didn’t want a fuss made. Her
family though, who loved her dearly, wanted to give her a day to remember. Many
whispered conversations then ensued. Arrangements were made, menus
decided (almost under her very nose, without her realising it).
The
party would consist of nineteen (6 of them children) so theirs would be
children’s size meals. Wines chosen, an array of gorgeous mains, flowers
and cake all sorted and because proprietors were well known to the family, a
little discount afforded.
Instead
of a quiet meal for two with her partner the lucky lady found herself amongst
all her family and enjoyed a most exquisitely delightful, unforgettable party
to mark her very special day.
Barry
M’s story tells of a very early
alarm call on a Bank Holiday Monday to visit a caravan park. The car
loaded with the kids, the dog and the (back seat driver wife) to contend with,
on a 178 mile journey to Cromer. (not sure if the crab to be found there, was
part of the charm). There was a very ‘close shave’ with another
vehicle on the M2 and a very heavy foot on the brakes. A welcome stop for
the dog, for petrol and then a full-English, would of course get them back on
the road to complete their journey in much better spirits. The children
had their eyes peeled to when they would arrive at the first of the six final
corners that would lead them into their final destination and the remarks about
‘I bet the roads were clearer yesterday’ left way on down the road!
Finally my words of wisdom (or otherwise!) about
yesterday came to me whilst watching a programme about the closing down of
mainline stations to many small towns and tourist attractions of the 1960s and
leaving those reliant on the trains stranded, without hope of getting other
jobs, that were already so scarce in the areas and taking away the tourists who
came on those trains to visit from far and wide.
Richard
Beeching chairman of British Railways (later Baron Beeching) sold off 2,000
stations, 5,000 miles of track and the jobs of around 67,000 people were lost.
Apparently the Sittingbourne to Sheerness line was left intact and
co-incidentally Beeching was born in Sittingbourne!!
The
demolition of the railway legacy and removal of track was carried out with
indecent haste, yet if only the track had remained, then even a closed line was
still a railway but there was an awful finality about ripping up track because
once that is done, a railway is truly dead and ghost’s laid.
Now of
course there are plans afoot for the new HS2 line linking the North with the
South which is being proposed which will cost millions of pounds to bring to
fruition. Will it create jobs or havoc, whilst destroying beautiful
countryside? Should the politicians who should be saving money for the country
go ahead with this new link? The debate trundles on and on like a runaway
train going down the track!.
A
published author named John Trythall and registered blind and in his 80s has
offered to come along to talk to us as a group, about his writing and his
book. We are very aware of the time that we have for our meetings
and for extra meetings, for such visitors, our costs would be higher too.
We hope to discuss further with Mr Trythall, to clarify in fact if he charges
to come along and then to see if it would be a worthwhile venture and we will
keep you informed.
The
next meeting to be held will be on 16th April at’ The Room At The Top’ in the
Library and 19.30 hours. This is to be a creative writing exercise centred
round a photograph (to be supplied on the night) so please bring along paper
and pencil!
Hope to
see you all there again next time. Though for now, please, do all
‘keep scribbling’ we can’t do it without you.
Caz
"Half"
Secretary!
