Lunch On Lowestoft Pier

By Ken Blowers

'Lunch on Lowestoft Pier' is another of Ken's delightful collection of short stories. This time they are predominantly based in his home country England plus a few more from the Gold Coast just for variety. These stories, as always, are short and punchy, just the right length to read in your lunch break.

In his fifth volume of short stories, Ken has something to offer everyone. New characters include nurses at work, secret service agents, school boys getting up to mischief and so on. Ken's ability to draw the reader into every day lives of regular people is most unique.

You too can be immediately transported to a time and era that possibly no longer exists, so you can either reminisce, or choose your own adventure - in any event, your reading needs are more than catered for, with this smorgasbord of saga's. Whatever your choice, you will not be disappointed as the unexpected unfolds with every word, slowly revealing the conclusion like a mini Agatha Christie mystery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ken Blowers
• Release date: Jul 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310344688

Ken Blowers

"I like to get well into my stories from Page 1. They are low in background trivia and high in rich dialogue and action. I have no interest in how my characters are dressed, or how they walk or talk – unless it’s directly related to the way they act. This makes my short stories short and punchy. They are all the better for that.” Ken Blowers.Ken Blowers is a 'Queensland Senior' writer of short stories and one-act plays. He was born in 1934, the youngest of seven children in the small fishing port of Lowestoft, Suffolk, England. His father died in 1939 when he was only 5. As a 6 year old he suffered the trauma of enforced evacuation from a coastal area threatened by enemy invasion. The returning home a year later to face the rigors of heavy enemy bombing. On leaving school at the age of 15 in 1949, Ken became an apprentice coachbuilder - at that time a woodworking trade! He was made redundant on immediately on completion of his apprenticeship at the age of 21. Thereafter he engaged in a variety of employment spheres to support his young wife and two children: fitter, car salesman, electrical salesman, postman, insurance agent, factory manager, shopkeeper, and barman. Disillusioned with his employment prospects and looking for a new start, he applied, through Australia House in London, for enlistment in the Royal Australian Air Force. He signed up on a Wednesday afternoon, flew out on the Thursday, and arrived in Australia on the Saturday (27 November 1965) which, he has been known to say, demonstrates how desperately Australia needed him!Having enlisted as a clerk he quickly taught himself to type so he could move to a higher pay level!. Having no formal education qualifications at all, he enrolled in the Victorian Correspondence School (for kids in the bush!) and after attaining matriculation standard, he eventually become a commissioned officer.In 1985, at the age of 51 and after 20 years Air Force service, he retired (with the rank of Squadron Leader). Ken and his wife Jean lived on a 28 acre property, where he bought and built a steel-framed home, over looking the valley. In 1992 the author and his wife moved from NSW to Queensland to be closer to their two daughters and their three grandchildren.Interestingly, it was their happy experiences together in their local U3A play-reading classes that encouraged him to take up the pen! He has since become a prolific writer of 1,000 daily quotations, 48 short stories, and 40 one-act plays.He now lives in Mitchelton, a north-west suburb of Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.And he recently retired from writing a total of 30,000 postings in Ken’s Corner, in his UK, Suffolk, home town website lowestoftonline.“To write good short stories you don’t have to live to a ripe old age first– but it sure helps. I can’t stop writing short stories. My characters just won’t let me.””___________________________________________

Book preview

LUNCH ON LOWESTOFT PIER

By Ken Blowers

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First published by Linda Perry at Smashwords 17th April 2014

This second edition published by Linda Perry at Smashwords March 2015

Editing by Eagle-Eyes Editing Solutions

Cover Illustration by Paulien Bats

Copyright (c) 2014 by Ken Blowers

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

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CONTENTS

Madeline Sweet

Uppers And Downers

The Secret Service

All At Sea

The Car Park

Emergency Ward Murder

An Indecent Act

The Wall

CHAPTER ONE

MADELINE SWEET

Alfy Archer sat tentatively waiting in the lounge bar of a pub in Denmark Road, Lowestoft. Now whether it was the Lord Nelson or the Royal Standard, or some other hostelry, I don’t really know, it’s quite immaterial. But he was more than likely drinking a Foster’s Lager. He always drank Foster’s Lager, a habit he’d picked up in Australia, but Foster’s was not imported here. It was brewed in Britain especially for the British palette. He most likely knew that too and damn them! Aussies and people who lived there tended to like their beer just a little sweeter.

Anyway, he was getting a few funny looks now again from the men in the lounge bar who were beginning to resent the way he sized up their female companions. Maybe he knew he’d have to knock-if-off soon or risk getting his teeth knocked out! I’ve been looking for the right bloody woman now for nigh on fifty years! What chance, what hope, have I got of ever finding her, he thought?

He was about to decide whether to order another beer or pack it in for the night, when he spied a man with a vaguely familiar face across the room. He picked up his glass and walked over. ‘Well, well, if it isn’t Danny Glover? Yes! It is you alright, you old sod!’ He grabbed the short, rotund, elderly man by the shoulder and looked him up and down. ‘It sure is you alright!’

‘Why, ‘ullo, Alfy, boy. ‘Aven’t seen ya for awhile. Bin away on ‘oliday - ‘ave yer?’

‘Holiday? You bloody, ignorant, Pom! I’ve been away for nigh on fifty bloody years and if you were a hundred you’d still say Been away on holiday – have you?’

‘Oh, well, I knew I ‘adn’t seen you’s for awhile, like. ‘As it bin that long? Really? Whatcher bin up to, then?’

‘If you really want to know, let me buy you a drink and I’ll tell you.’ Alfy pointed to their glasses and held up two fingers to the watching barman. ‘I’ve been overseas.’

‘Overseas? Hmm, ‘ave you been out there a keeping them there colonial cousins in line, then?’ asked Danny.

‘Something like that, yes.’ The barman brought over the drinks and Alfy started into his tale. ‘Do you remember, Danny, the old days when we used to walk up the sea front to the Palais de Danse, with a sprung dance floor? Every Saturday night, you and Beryl and me and…’

‘Madeline! Or Mad, as we used to call her. Yers of course I do. Sweet girl Mad, a right little corker! Oh, I couldn’t forget her! But, yeah… yeah, we did have some great times together, back then, didn’t we? But I din’t see anything of ya after you got called up, back in the fifties. The Army was it? Or was it the boys in blue?’

‘The Navy. Royal Navy. Ya prick! Sadly, though I begged Madeline to marry me, she refused. We had some ding-dong rows over that and as a result, we busted up completely. I’ve never heard from her since. Near broke my heart, it did. But, how, er, how about you and Beryl, then?’

‘Beryl? Oh, yer, me and Beryl. We never married, but we’s still together. Nobody cares these days no more for marriage, like - do they? So why bother, eh?’

‘You’re probably right, there. No marriage. No divorce! What about kids then?’

‘Oh, yer! One or two; or is it three or four? I can never remember when I’ve ‘ad a pint or two,’ he chuckled.

‘And you? Did you marry? I bet, I bet you’s been busy; a populating all them there colonies, eh – if I know you, ha, ha, ha.’

‘No! Dam ya! Nothing like that! But yes, I’ve been married. Three times: once in Africa; once