Reckless Gambol

By Frankie Kay

What happened to Dion after Lisa dropped him off at home? What did he think of her? And what was Eugene up to, setting Lisa on Dion? This short vignette answers some of those questions while exploring new themes. Set in Bulawayo, in 1987 when Lisa is still living in her flat in Borrow Street, Reckless Gambol features characters from Silk Threads and introduces several new ones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frankie Kay
• Release date: Jan 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310367182

Frankie Kay

I'm an author from Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. I've written a novel, Silk Threads and a few short stories. Although Frankie is a pen name, she is the me who never grew up, the crazy kid who spoke to animals, talked to the wildflowers and asked awkward questions...I love: music, the silence..., distant horizons. I hate: crowds and spending money.

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Reckless Gambol

By Frankie Kay

Published by Frankie Kay

Copyright 2015 Frankie Kay

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 e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and may not be sold or shared. If this copy was not purchased for your use, please acquire a legal copy directly from a distributor. I hope you will recommend Reckless Gambol and other books in the series to your friends and encourage them to visit me at my blog http://frankiekay.wordpress.com/ where I have posted links to all editions and other information about myself.

Adult-content rating: This book contains content considered unsuitable for young readers 17 and under, and which may be offensive to some readers of all ages.

Reckless Gambol

is a vignette intended for those of you who want to read more about Eugene and Lisa and will make no sense to you if you haven’t read Silk Threads.

While still at the final stages of writing Silk Threads, what Dion Franklin thought of Lisa, and what Eugene was up to when he sent her to the Franklin stables at Ascot Race Course kept pestering me. It began disturbing my editing (because editing is very boring) and I eventually wrote this short addition to Silk Threads, to get it out of the way. I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing it.

If you haven’t read Silk Threads, you can download it from Smashwords here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351693

Table of Contents:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

End

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Prologue

The mangy bitch slinks closer, the scent of blood strong.

She is thin, ribs protruding, coat patchy and staring. She is not a big dog; most dogs living in the compound are mangy, stunted.

A ribbon of saliva hangs from her lower jaw. She licks her lips and the saliva sways.

Belly to the ground she sniffs the wind, tail tip wagging; appeasing the human. The man must have meat, she reasons. But will he share? Tail held underbelly the bitch licks bare toes.

The man makes no response. Bolder, she licks further along his legs, the taste of blood strong on her tongue. Finally a response. The man grunts, shakes his leg. Groans. Blood gushes.

Senses assaulted, she whines, snivelling closer.

She is used to rough treatment, blows, kicks; will swap them for a morsel of food. Pushing her wet nose against the man, she sniffs, sucking in the scent. Crawling over a soft thigh, she finds the source: a bloody chunk. She grabs; immediately scuttling backwards, snapping and snarling.

She gulps.

Bolder now, her stomach juices digesting the meat in her belly, she returns; following the blood scent.

A bloody tatter of skin.

She snaps, tugs. The man screams. He swipes at her, but she is quick, she has had plenty of practice avoiding blows.

He clutches his gut, snatching at the coils running over his side and onto the dusty ground.

The bitch creeps forward again, senses drenched by the overpowering smell of blood.

Distracted, she doesn’t hear the other dogs until it’s too late. They crowd past her, snap at soft, wet entrails. Growling and snarling they tug, racing away from the writhing, screaming body. Crouched low to the ground, she makes a grab for the bleeding skin. She bites and this time, succeeds in tearing a chunk of flesh. Snarling and snapping she reverses away from the boiling mass of dogs, tugging and pulling, fighting each other, the contents of the silvery tubes spraying their rough coats.

The man fights, swatting with the back of his hands, kicking with his legs, roaring ferociously until the leader of the pack bullies his way through the melee. He burrows deep inside the gaping opening, nuzzling for the raw fat he knows he will find there.

A tug, a pull and he is away with a bleeding chunk of juicy offal, leaving his fellows to pick the tailings. The bitch slinks in and again bites at a place she once found soft, tasty meat. She nips and tugs, the man no longer moving, no longer swatting at her.

Huddled between his legs, she feasts, lapping and licking, desperately hoping the others don’t notice her.

Chapter 1 – August 1987

Lisa walked into her flat to find a square, off white envelope in her antique invitation holder. As usual, her heart caught and sped up. She opened it to find a card with a picture of two stick people sitting at a round table. Dinner, with Eugene.

She hung her bag on its hook and walked through the archway, into her lounge. If Eugene were not here already, he would arrive at 7.30pm. In time for a pre dinner glass of wine.

Lisa thrived on order, on routine. She liked to know exactly what to expect, what she would be doing at any given time. The only exception to this rule was Eugene. And yet, even he maintained an order of sorts. She could trust that he knew what she needed, what she could cope with.

Today proved no exception. At seven thirty, Lisa heard him open the inter-leading door into her flat. She offered him a drink and they sat for a short while on her couch, chatting companionably. They moved to her circular table when Rose laid out the starters.

So, Eugene began. You are going to the races on Saturday?

Although posed as a question, Lisa knew he expected her to attend.

I was invited by Mr Franklin. He discovered I have never been to the races. He said his son would show me about, she said and Eugene nodded.

He continued to eat his dinner, but she knew the topic was not closed. While Rose removed their starters, Eugene reached over and laid his hand over Lisa's. Stroking her fingers he smiled at her.

I wonder if you would like to make a deal with me? he asked. Again, the question was posed in such a way that he didn't expect her to refuse.

You like to touch me? he asked, and puzzled at the direction of the conversation, she frowned.

When he said nothing further, she nodded and eventually added, Yes. I like to touch you.

Ok, he said. Here's the deal. Wherever you touch Dion, you touch me.

Chapter 2

Elliot ran his dust rag over the last of the low wooden partitions in the Tattersalls hall. Nearly ten, it was time for his