Mrs Mathews is Afraid of Cricket Bats

By Steven Pirie

A free sample of the quirky comedy horror from Steve Pirie, an Immanion Press author, comprising short stories set in the same setting as his novels 'Digging Up Donald' and 'Burying Brian'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Immanion Press
• Release date: Feb 15, 2011

Steven Pirie

Steven Pirie lives in the northwest of England with a wonderful wife, a marvellous son, and an incontinent cat, which is not nearly quite so marvellous and wonderful. He is a playful forty-two year old, as the son and cat will often tell, and blames this outlook for the hefty humour he likes to paste upon his words. He follows football and is active in a number of internet writers' sites, though not at the same time. It has been said he is to fiction writing what Al-Qaeda is to world peace - frankly, something of a nuisance - but not by reliable, sober sources. His short stories have appeared in a number of print and web-based magazines, none of which of which closed to business soon after. He clings to this as a positive sign. Digging up Donald is his debut novel, and he has recently completed the sequel, Burying Brian, due out from Immanion Press in 2010.

Book preview

Mrs Mathews is Afraid of Cricket Bats.

By

Steven Pirie.

Copyright 2011 Steven Pirie

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

All characters and situations in this work are fictional.

Thank you for reading… you're a star!

Mrs Mathews is Afraid of Cricket Bats

Nowadays, there’s always the rumble of Lancaster bombers in Mrs Mathews’s head. If she closes her eyes, she thinks she sees them lined up on the base runway, fully-fuelled and bomb-loaded, their brave boys all aviators’ waves as they pass her by. She sees hours of dark, empty skies until they limp home; trailing smoke and fire across the dawn, their airmen slumped forward in their seats. Sometimes, when the dawn is greyest, they don’t come back at all, and then she’s afraid the rumble is not of Lancasters at all but that of ghosts in her head.

Mrs Mathews tugs her earlobe briskly left and right. ‘It sounds like the ocean crashing on the shore,’ she says.

She grows warm on the neck when she lies, but it’s best not to mention Lancaster bombers to Mr Mathews; best not to bring back the war; best not to risk Mr Mathews pulling down the ornamental cricket bat from the wall in his anger. That’s what perforated Mrs Mathews’s eardrum the first time around.

‘Remember when we went to Margate, Ronald?’ she says. ‘Well, it sounds just like that only speeded up a bit.’

Mr Mathews grunts behind his Evening Herald, and Mrs Mathews glances away quickly. ‘You’re a bloody malingerer, woman,’ he says. ‘Always have been, always will be. Get yourself off to Doctor Chimingara in the morning. Shut the noise up outside your head and give us all some peace and quiet.’

Mrs Mathews sighs. She’s afraid of being a bloody malingerer. She’s afraid of ghostly bombers in her head. She worries of spiders and open spaces, and of shopping at Tesco since the scene with the boy and the toy mouse and the