My novels and other things: April 2020

Prologue and part of chapter one from my thriller The Cellist.

Now on offer from Amazon on Kindle at just £0.99 or $1.21

December 1995

“Come on you two, we have to go now. Look, the weather is closing in.”

Their mother was standing at the bottom of the hill hopping from foot to foot in an effort to keep warm. She was too far away to be heard clearly, but from her body language, her message was obvious.

Mia looked up to where she was pointing. The sky overhead was as thick as an old grey blanket that stretched all the way to the horizon. It reminded her of a time when she and her father had watched from the cliff top as a storm raged out in the channel. The sky had been as dark as night with clouds so heavy they seemed to boil right up from the raging sea. It was a spectacular sight and full of drama especially once the lightning loosened its tongue.

“Come on,” her brother Ethan shouted, his cheeks rosy from exertion; he had just dragged their sledge up the hill and was now eager to ride it down again.

“We’re going to make this thing fly.” He said, his voice full of excitement.

Squatting down on the wooden slats that spanned the runners, Ethan dug his heels into the snow and held the sledge steady as Mia climbed on. She tucked her knees up under her brother’s elbows and held onto him tightly then, peering nervously over his shoulder, she could see their mother at the bottom of the hill. She looked so small and doll-like dressed in her long red coat with matching woollen hat and mittens. It was then that Mia realised just how big the hill was and she squealed as her brother lifted his feet and they began their descent.

A blast of cold air stole her breath away and her eyes filled with tears, but she dared not loosen her grip so burying her face into her brother’s back, she squealed again, louder this time as the sledge picked up speed. All at once, it was over, the runners ploughed into the drifts at the bottom of the hill and they came to an abrupt stop.

“Wow,” Ethan cried, “that was awesome.”

“Come on you two.” Mia could hear her mother’s voice clearly now even above the sound of her pounding heart.

“I’m freezing. Get into the car quickly before it starts to snow again.”

Ethan complained as their sledge was heaved up onto the roof rack.

“Come on, in you go.”

Pulling open the door, he scampered in leaving a dusting of snow across the seat. Mia brushed it away before following him and when settled, she reached for the seatbelt. She hated having to wear it but her parents insisted that they buckle up tightly so pulling it across her body, she tucked it under her arm. It was not designed for children and if she did not hold it in place, it would ride up and rub against her chin.

Their mother climbed in and tapping her boots against the bottom of the door, loosened the worst of the snow before swinging her legs in.

“Goodness, I’m frozen.” She said and removing her mittens rubbed her hands together before blowing on her fingers.

Mia adored her mother’s hands; they were soft, warm and always scented, her nails often painted red to match the colour of her lips. She studied her own fingers and frowned, her nails were chipped and uneven, but she was determined to have hands just like her mother’s one day.

After a few moments, the engine started and the heater was turned up to maximum. At first, the blast that filled the car was icy cold but soon it would become warm. Mia glanced at her brother, he didn’t seem to notice, he amused himself by peering longingly out of the window at the snow covered hill. There were not so many people around now the worsening weather had driven them all away. Snow was beginning to fall, huge flakes that would soon cover their tracks, but for now, the road ahead was clear.

The sound of the wipers swishing against the glass was hypnotic and now the air inside the car had warmed, Mia began to feel sleepy. She smiled, this was the perfect start to the holidays, no school until next term and tomorrow their father would finish work early then the fun would really begin. Only three more sleeps until Christmas day, this was going to be the best ever.

A red light up ahead filled the car with its glow and gently their mother brought the car to a stop, moments later the light turned green and they were off again.

Suddenly a sickening force shook the car and Mia was thrown sideways. Air bags deployed but this did nothing to stop her brother from crashing into her and as the car rolled, she was pinned against the door, her face just millimetres from the road. Sparks flashed alarmingly from the door as it scraped along the tarmac, but fortunately, the window remained intact.

Their mother screamed but as the car came to a rest, her cries stopped and it was a few agonising seconds before Mia dared to look up. The front seat was leaning at a funny angle with her mother’s head pressed up against it. Mia could see the look of shock on her face, her red lips parted slightly and blood was beginning to stain her white teeth. Mia groaned and tried to move but it was impossible, her brother was on top of her and it was too much effort to push him away. She called out his name, but there was no response, her mother continued to stare then Mia began to cry.

There was hardly any pain as she lay there crushed inside the wreckage. Drifting in and out of consciousness, she became detached from the horror that surrounded her, it was as if it was happening to someone else, it was all just a dream. Emergency crews worked tirelessly to free her and occasionally she heard the sound of their voices. Noise from their equipment became distant and as she closed her eyes, she could feel her strength beginning to drain away. Her arms and legs were growing cold and as realisation took hold, she became frightened. Something terrible had happened to her mother and her brother, that much was clear, but it all seemed so unreal. Forcing these unwelcome thoughts away, she drew on her inner strength; she had to remain strong. She refused to allow death to claim her.

Chapter One

The romance of the swan as it glides majestically across the stage is guaranteed to win the hearts of every audience.

‘The Swan’, is in every cellist’s repertoire. Written by Camille Saint-Saëns in 1887 it remains an instantly recognisable piece from his Carnival of the Animals suite.

Mia held her cello in a lover’s embrace, in her arms it became a living thing and together they made the sweetest music. Closing her eyes, she immersed herself completely in the moment. Her passion was infectious and as she charmed her audience she could do no wrong, then with a final draw of her bow, the piece ended gracefully and silence filled the auditorium. Mia looked up and smiled.

The audience, enthralled by her faultless performance, were held in rapture and unable to respond. Several seconds passed before they rose to their feet, then the air was filled with sounds of their appreciation.

Mia was stunned and peering out from behind the stage lights, individual faces began to appear. Their cheers leaving her in no doubt, her performance was a success. Carefully setting her cello to one side, she rose from her chair and approached the edge of the stage. The applause became thunderous and bowing politely, Mia gave thanks to their praise then as she left the stage, the excitement gradually subsided as the audience began to disperse.

Terry smiled, the swan remained swimming inside his head, and as he looked down onto an empty stage, his emotions began to stir. He had never seen his daughter perform to such a large audience before and suddenly all those years of dedication, hard work and financial commitment seemed worthwhile. Her childhood had been disciplined with endless nights of practice as she learned to play pieces that were ever more complicated. She regularly took part in junior competitions that were fiercely competitive and Terry worried that the strain would be too much for Mia, but she had taken it in her stride. Music school followed and all the while, she continued to blossom into a sophisticated and beautiful young woman. She was a rising star in the world of classical music and her performance tonight left him in no doubt. Her mother would have been very proud and it pained him to think that she was not there beside him, but now was not the time to dwell upon that. He watched as people moved around the auditorium and realised that Mia was living her dream, she seemed content sharing her talents with her audience and it pleased him. In an attempt to distract his maudlin thoughts, he studied the crumpled programme that he was holding. The promotional photograph of his daughter with her cello impressed him enormously, she looked incredible and his smile widened; he was a very proud father indeed.