Scotfree 3

By Gordon M Burns

Following on from the successful Scot-free 1 and 2, more short stories, inspired in modern day Scotland with universal characters and situations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gordon M Burns
• Release date: Jan 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370834013

Gordon M Burns

Writer living in Abernethy Perth Scotland. see my website for more details.

Book preview

SCOTFREE 3

G.M Burns

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 by Gordon M Burns

CONTENTS

Moniti

I Knew You Were Trouble (A Cover Version)

Horn Warning

Response for the Day

A Plug

Vermillion

Lost Summer

On Suddenly Finding Crystal

MONITI

Since starting school she looked for answers to questions like; if she was named after the day she was born, why was she not called Monday? Mum would have saved herself trouble explaining that Moniti was not Mon-i-ti but Moh-ne-tee, and meant Monday.

‘And where does that nice name come from?’

The lady at the school had asked Mum that, and there had been a flicker of half-hope in Moniti that the question might be answered, but Mum was acting tongue-tied that day on anything but name and date of birth and so, like all her puzzling at the circle of cramp perception she held in, that vital knowledge went unrevealed. Mum had looked so pale that maybe the slanting sun was afraid to do any more that get caught up in her long eyelashes. A blue vein laced Mum’s cheeks and clearly, wired-hair sprung springy as she was in her seat, Moniti with her dark-oiled skin and its sheen of green was not a smaller version of the mother. Looking between them, the woman asked another question, one that Moniti would love to hear answered, but all that woman got from Mum was:

‘Ken-like, she was at the Nursery here. So, your telling me, youse all dinnae talk?’

The woman was not put out. ‘Well of course not, Lucy, it just that … if we can help with …’

‘And what can you dae that Ah’ve no’ tried doing myself?’

‘Please, em, we’re not … we’re not … aren’t they meant, you know the …’

‘Huh-hah,’ Lucy laughed, ‘clearly we weren’t intae rubber stamping at the time, so there ye have it … bed made and end of story.’

From tick-list processing the woman sat up as she might when her effective contribution was challenged, however, as this was her sphere. ‘Thank you, Lucy, nice outline. Just what I hate; getting into a book and someone tells me the ending.’

Then Mrs Tait called Mum something that pinched Mum’s lips the way she would on some nights when Moniti would sit with her, on her bed, lights switched off, and looking blankly out. Moniti was never sure where Mum was during those times but their bodies would be touching. That moment was like that.

‘Lucy, in this school, with the sort of challenges we have help is a two-way process. Ever thought about …’

Moniti did not understand what was said but Mum had laughed and ended saying something along