Baby Baby


Write On Prompts – Week 1 – I have never…

She felt his hands hold her head, wrapped in her long locks as he kissed her ever so gently. He looked deep into her eyes and slowly made his way in for a second kiss, again just as gently as the first.

She was in a trance enjoying the novelty of being kissed by him after so much anxiety, so much worrying; would he like her? Would they have a good time? Would he want to see her again?

Two days of trying on every garment in her wardrobe before she settled with her faded jeans and favourite ‘lucky’ t-shit, well it sure was lucky tonight.

They’d been to the trendy bar in town and chatted over a couple of drinks, laughing at each others jokes, agreeing with each others points of views. They’d gone on to a reserved table at the local Italian restaurant and she’d hardly touched her food for nerves.

Then he’d suggested a stroll along the river bank.

Here they were in the summer twilight on the longest day of the year. The sun had finally gone down but had left behind a brilliantly coloured sky with pinks, oranges, yellows and reds.

He was going to the Hyde Park concert next week, would she like to come?

“I would LOVE to come.’ had been her confirmation. Had she been too gushing? Did he think she was really uncool? Was she completely destroying any chance of survival before they had actually started to see each other properly?

And now, here he was kissing her after months of sizing each other up, weeks of small talk and drinks in a group of mutual friends.

He gently pushed her against the wall running alongside the river bank and his kisses became more urgent, she responded wanting his attention  and wanting this moment to last forever.

She felt his hand caress her breast and let him explore her form, pushing into him. She could feel his desire pressing her leg and started to panic.

How far should she go?

It’s only their first date. They mustn’t, they shouldn’t. Would he wait? Would he be angry with her if she stopped now? Would she never see him again if she didn’t go all the way?

He lulled her into him again and she felt his hands roaming her bum, his finger running down the curve in between her buttocks. She was excited. She was about to explode. She had to stop.

He took her by the hand and led her to the grass verge a short walk away, bushes excluded them from the path and trees overhead were swaying in the breeze. She could hear an animal in the bushes but he interrupted her distractions with more ardent kissing.

They laid down, he pressed into her thigh giving clear evidence of his passion. He stroked her body and his hand lowered to the button on her jeans.

She sat up, startled at how fast things were moving.

‘I have never…’

I’m linking up with Sandy Calico who blogs at Baby Baby, click on the image at the top of this post and it will tele-transport you directly to her – enjoy the journey and good reading!

100 word challenge, Silhouette, River Avon, Sandy balls

Some places are for staying quiet girls.

If you listen hard enough you can hear the wings of the fairies beating. You can hear the elves singing whilst they collect acorns for the long winter ahead.

You can hear the swans chatting as they gather materials for their nests.

Watch the river how it dances in and out of the rocks and obstacles? The fish are swimming deep down close to the mud looking for food for their hungry tummies.

If you’re really very quiet you might spot an otter playing in the stream.

You must be still and quiet and patient.


I’m entering this into the 100 word challenge #100WCGU, the prompt is a photo I took on a trip to Sandy balls in the New Forest last year. A real beauty spot that the girls adored and was perfect for firing up the imagination.

Head over to Julia’s Place to read what other bloggers have come up with or better still join in with us?

I sit here day in – day out and watch scenes play out in front of me all year long. I have noticed a lady recently, she doesn’t look happy. Her children are fretful and difficult to cope with. I see her struggling with heavy shopping bags up and down flights of stairs making sure there’s always a good meal on the table.

I watch her chat with the other mums; she’s uncomfortable with them.

I know her mother is sick, her father’s an alcoholic and her teen son has started smoking.

Why doesn’t her husband see? He’s going to lose her.

This is my first entry for The Head’s Office 100 word challenge. We have been given the photo above and the task is to write something creative in only 100 words, mine is quite melancholic but so true, how many partners don’t ‘see’ when their other half is suffering? Head over and see what everyone else came up with

So S is for Scary, Stories and Supplies today for my entry in Jenny Matlock’s Alphabe Thursday now all I need is a monster aged 8 or over…..

Have you ever heard of 826 literacy project? I hadn’t until yesterday, quite by chance via Twitter and that gives me a fourth S today Serendipity but I digress dear reader. The 826 National is a nonprofit tutoring, writing, and publishing organization, set up to assist students aged six to eighteen with their writing skills, and to help teachers get their classes excited about writing. Work is based on the understanding that great leaps in learning can happen with one-on-one attention, and that strong writing skills are fundamental to future success.

Sounds brilliant doesn’t it? This is one time that I want to be 10 years old again!

Currently there are 9 centres dotted all over the USA and now, luckily for us, some very hard working people who you can read about on We Made This have secured funding from the Arts Council and The JJ Charitable Trust the author Nick Hornby jumped on board and Hoxton Street Monster Supplies –  Purveyor of Quality Goods for Monsters of Every Kind opened back in November 2010 for the delight of kids across the land and I WANT TO GO NOW! Only I need to be aged 8 – 18…even my best attempt at a monster disguise won’t let me get away with the loss of that many years!

The shop was established in 1818 and has been supplying Britain’s extensive monster community since. In fact you can find a whole range of Tinned Fears each containing a specially commissioned short story from authors like Nick Hornby and Zadie Smith, there is a wonderful selection of Human Preserves and a very handy Neck-Bolt Tightener amongst other necessary monster wares. The beadier eyed beast will note that the shelves of the shop conceal an entrance. A secret and well disguised portal that leads to the Ministry of Stories which has been architectured and designed in the smallest detail to feel really special and it certainly looks special.

The Ministry has already held numerous workshops which monsters both locally and from afar have given their thumbs up. The BBC themselves were suitably impressed and the journalist from The Guardian gave a glowing report. But let’s be honest – would you dare write a bad review on a monster supply shop? – not me!

So if you have some monsters lying around who need a little inspiration or a creative outlet to create the next Harry Potter then you really should rush down to this place…I’m going to kidnap my niece and nephew (aged 9 and 11) whilst they’re sleeping and leave my twins in their beds so their parents won’t realise, that’ll get me my ticket into the Ministry of Stories. How are you going to get in?

I confess to stealing each and every single photo from the We Made This blog and I am now on a 24/7 monster watch. Aaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhh

If you missed chapter one you can find it here – Creative Writing

Book – Chapter 1.1

Her eyes darted around the bedroom taking in the massive pile of clothes strewn all over the bed, some inside out, some screwed up into a ball and others half dangling on the floor where they had been thrown haphazardly as she had tried on the entire contents of her wardrobe in an attempt to find something to wear for tonight’s evening out. It looked like a coach load of bargain hunters had just passed through a jumble sale.

‘I’ve got NOTHING to wear. How am I supposed to impress him in any of this?

She would have to snap out of her dream world pretty quickly as she needed to be at Regent’s Park tube station in an hour. She grabbed her favourite black trousers and teaming them with a clean and reasonably ironed t shirt she made for the bathroom still not entirely convinced of her choice. How would she know what to wear to his friends’ who lived in THE Kings Road in Chelsea? Everyone was bound to be looking absolutely wonderfully chic and she wouldn’t, she’d be seen as a fool. A penniless student, just out of college, wet behind the ears and totally out of place. Oh well, if that’s the case – so be it, her dad’s life phrases ringing in her ears. At least she would have tried.

“I’m lucky he asked me out on a date, I mustn’t read too much into it. I must just see where this goes and not get too involved. He’s Italian. He dresses in designer gear. I should be over the moon he’s even thought of looking at me, net alone asked me out! …”

And so the internal dialogue continued all the way to Regent’s Park underground and cigarettes were chain smoked in a failed attempt to settle the butterflies whizzing in her stomach. She thought back over the last week and smiled at the memory of following Giovanni and his friends down to the pizzeria on the ground floor of the Trocadero. Not only had she busted her lunch budget well and truly that day she could have also been done for stalking but how else was she going to get seen and remembered? She had played her very best ‘I always do this’ card and sat at a table close enough but not too close and pulled out a book as she ate the expensive bit of pizza and peeked at him from behind the safety of her paperback. It had been Fabrizio in his slow, lilting Italian voice with a hint of mickey taking who brought it up the next day.

‘Giovanni saw you in the pizzeria yesterday baby? You don’t usually eat there eh? You got rich all of a sudden and didn’t tell me?’ a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “he asked me to see if you wanna come with us tonight?”

‘Oh?’ a smile flickering on her lips and side stepping his pizza comment quickly, ‘Where are you going?’ (Am I coming? Of course I’m coming!)

‘My friend Eugeneo, he’s having a party at his flat in King’s Road, you know? In Chelsea?.’ the words hung for a millisecond in the air between them as she waited, not wanting to look over excited and jump down his throat..

‘yeah,’ her eyes pretending to weigh up the situation against other options available to her, ‘OK, what time are you going?’

‘I don’t know baby, maybe you come to our place in Regent’s Park and we go together from there?’

‘Fine, what time?’

‘Eight? Is that ok?’

‘You’ll have to let me have a map of how to get to yours from the tube station later.’

She escaped into the recesses of the shop to tidy up shelves of jumpers  before she gave any hints away at just how excited she was about this turn of events and went over the conversation again and again in her mind, playing herself in a cool and calm manner when inside she was bubbling over with joy. She wasn’t supposed to be seeing Jack today, in fact their relationship had been more off than on in recent months after she’d discovered he’d cheated on her during his summer holiday with all the lads to Greece. It was only a matter of time before they broke up for good so she was perfectly entitled to move on and look for more out there. You never know where this may lead. It may fall at the first hurdle but then it may become more serious. She may even get to go to Italy! Just think about that!

As the train hurtled along the black tunnel seemingly about to run away with itself, she prepared herself for the unknown as the breaks were applied and the vehicle came to a shrieking halt at Regent’s Park. She stepped out of her carriage onto the platform amongst late commuters making their way home. She’d never been to this part of London and was curious to who lived here, she made her way out into the dark October night and looked around her to gain her bearings.


She heard her name and spun round to see Fabrizio standing, smoking a cigarette with Giovanni, another friend and a girl. She had seen the girl a couple of times with them before and couldn’t make out who she was with. Maybe it was Giovanni’s girlfriend and he was just being a polite by asking her to join them? Maybe he wasn’t interested in her at all and she’d made up the whole thing in her head?

‘Hello! Am I late?’ she smiled at the waiting crowd.

‘No, we were ready early so we came to meet you.’

‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long?’

‘No, no. No problem. Come on, I’ll flag a cab.’

Her stomach dropped as she heard the word cab. She had a fiver in her purse and that was for lunch tomorrow as well. Oh well, no going back now, she’d have to see how this played out she couldn’t afford to ruin the outcome of this evening on money problems.

There was a lot of loud Italian babbling as the black taxi made its way across the richest and plushest part of London towards the infamous Kings Road. Hands were given a new lease of life with this fast moving language becoming as important a means of expression as the words they were accompanying. She watched the people around her interact and could see the friendships were fun, open and there was lots of laughter. If only she could understand them. Giovanni paused to look at her, the girl sitting beside him and hanging on his every word.

‘We’re laughing at Fabrizio, he says he’s the boss in the shop.’

Glad to have been acknowledged at long last and convinced the girl was his partner she decided it would be good to make new exciting friends and along with Giovanni and his stumbling English, she started to join in the fun and take the mickey out of Fabrizio, imitating habits of his he had shown in the shop that made the others burst out with laughter as she took him off to a tee.

The cab drew up and as she was the last to get out of the cab she saw Fabrizio paying and went straight over to offer her share as was the norm in student land. Secretly relieved that he refused her monetary contribution she figured she would have to offer to pay for the trip home. The group made their way following Fabrizio and laughing noisily as they went and soon he was knocking on a door and conversing via the intercom on the wall until a buzzing and a loud click proved the door was open. Heading up the stairs they were ushered into a large, spacious white lounge area already full of people sitting and drinking. Light-years from the usual student party she would attend on a Friday night. She was introduced to Eugenio; a bearded man she later learnt was Jewish and was the brains behind bringing the infamous Benetton shops to the UK. Every item of merchandise passed through his hands making him a very rich man indeed. There were no sofas or seats available so the group found a free area on the floor and sitting down Sophie found herself opposite Giovanni and the girl. It was time to break the ice so she put out her hand to shake with the girls’ and introduced herself.

‘Hello,’ came the stilted reply. ‘My name is Chicca.’ She left it at that with an added shy smile apologising for her lack of English but happy to be acknowledged. Giovanni was listening and watching, silently encouraging her to say more.

‘She’s my sister. She’s come to England for the first time to study English.’

Sophie’s heart almost smashed through her rib cage open as she took in the words ‘my sister’. So happy was she to realise this man was most likely a free agent and therefore open to moves. Had her relief been so obvious?

‘Oh, your sister! Do you like England?’ she prayed the detour of question would cover up her relief and excitement.

‘Yes, very much.’ Sophie could see she would have liked to say more and patiently waited as she spoke in Italian to Giovanni in order that he translate for her.

The evening was a success, they drank wine, they laughed and they teased playfully. Sophie put her best pulling skills into gear and stepped up her game and it was only after a few drinks that she could feel she was being watched. She looked up and noticed a glamorous, perfectly groomed woman on the couch staring at her and chatting to her friend in the process. Sophie gave an acknowledging smile, after all she had no idea who this woman was and got a complete blank in return.

‘Who’s miss Frosty Knickers over there, a friend of yours Giovanni?’ she left the question dangling between them with a cheeky smile on her mouth and watched as he turned to see who she was referring to. She saw their eyes lock and watched Giovanni’s nod of recognition and knew there was something between them. A past girlfriend maybe, but how past? And was it definitely past?

‘Oh that’s my friend Patrizia, What did you call her? Miss?’

‘Frosty Knickers. She’s been staring at me for a while and talking to her friend. It just seems a bit rude as I don’t know her. What’s her problem?’

‘Shall we go? I’ve had enough here, we can go to the centre and walk maybe take a beer in a pub or something?’ Giovanni artfully turned the conversation with a very agreeable offer.

‘Yes, let’s go.’ There was definitely something here that needed investigating Sophie recognised and now she would hopefully have the opportunity to discover more. Pleased to see Chicca decide to stay at the party and remain with Fabrizio and company, together with Giovanni she left the room feeling two eyes bore into her spine. Eugenio was the perfect host and helped her into her cheap jacket. He hadn’t needed to ask which was hers; it stuck out like a sore thumb. How she wished to own gorgeous clothes like every other female in the room.

Eugenio was laughing and talking to Giovanni and completely took Sophie by surprise as he planted kisses on either of his cheeks. Were they gay? She had hardly completed the thought when Eugenio in perfect English thanked her for coming and kissed her too on both cheeks. Never had she felt so refined and thanking him for a wonderful evening the pair made their way out into the cold night air.

Finally alone their attempts to make conversation kept bumping into each other, with the ‘No, you speak.’ ‘No you,’ which followed killing it immediately. They misunderstood each other and had to back track over and over again but once off the start line there was no going back. Endless topics spread in front of them. Sophie hadn’t heard of the part of Italy he came from and in fact she realised just how little she knew of Italy and he was impressed to hear she had finished college and had her own rented flat in Vauxhall.

They found a pub in Soho and sat down to find out more about each other.

‘So what’s Miss Frosty Knickers’ story then?’ Sophie eager to get the topic out in the open dumped it on the table immediately.

‘Oh, we were together a while ago, I think she may still like me.’ Giovanni confessed sheepishly.

‘Yeah, that much was pretty obvious, how about you? Do you still fancy her?’

‘Noooo,’ a long drawn out no left no doubt to Giovanni’s intentions. ‘I just don’t want to seem a bastard to her, that’s all. She helped me a lot, I’m grateful for that but I don’t want to be with her anymore.

‘How long were you together? What went wrong?’ Sophie had to know and couldn’t stop the questions tumbling out.

‘A few months? She is older than me, I had nowhere to sleep, she invited me to her house and then she came on to me. She kept buying me expensive gifts and treating me like my mother so I left her house and went to live with Fabrizio. She tries to get back with me but I don’t want to.

Realising she had to let go or seem obsessed Sophie moved on and as the pub called last orders the pair had unknowingly sealed their first step to a lifelong commitment.

Once again the two kisses planted on her cheeks as they said goodbye at the tube station each heading in opposite directions.

‘Ciao.’ He said. ‘When can I see you again?’

‘Tomorrow?’ she giggled and raised her eyes inquisitively to see if he was playing the game, encouraged by the glasses of wine to be more flippant.

‘OK, lunch time then. See you tomorrow.’

Writing workshopI’m going to enter this into Josie’s Writing workshop this week under prompt one Due Date and ironically the title she has chosen for this week is Life on film – wouldn’t it be marvellous to have a film made out of something you had written, who would you cast as Giovanni and Sophie?