Shorties

By John Gardner

This collection of short stories was created to give you a bit of something different. A bit of a mix – humour, erotica, life, sci-fi. A story to entertain you on a short commute or while you hang around a doctor’s surgery with a restless and unreasonably hot child. Or devour the whole book while you hang around waiting for the plumber to appear and present you with an eye-watering bill for getting the boiler they serviced only six months ago back into action.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Gardner
• Release date: Aug 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463585238

John Gardner

Writing is a passion, as are photography and music, they have defined much of my life.

Book preview

Shorties

A collection of short stories

edited by

John Gardner

This collection of short stories was created to give you a bit of something different. A bit of a mix – humour, erotica, life, sci-fi. A story to entertain you on a short commute or while you hang around a doctor’s surgery with a restless and unreasonably hot child. Or devour the whole book while you hang around waiting for the plumber to appear and present you with an eye-watering bill for getting the boiler they serviced only six months ago back into action.

So, without further ado I present you with, Shorties.

John Gardner

Editor.

Copyright John Gardner 2019

Published by John Gardner at Smashwords 2019

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. We wouldn’t steal your work, please don’t steal ours. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

Stories

Paulus Phil Ryan Humour

The Sleep Kate Allcock Life

Timing John Gardner Drama

The Storm Lara Krupe Erotica

Help John Gardner Scottish drama

Markings Phil Ryan Sci-fi

Balancing Act John Gardner Sci-fi

Ten Hours James Gardner Life

He Knew the Game John Gardner Humour

Paulus

by

Phil Ryan

The silk robes swished around his legs. They were light. Perfect for the September heat. Beautifully embroidered they twinkled in the camera flashes. The heavy, gold papal cross hung around his neck, the jewels sparkling. He fingered it. The crowd in the room moved forward and at a signal sank to their knees. The Swiss Guards snapped to attention and the papal trumpeters sounded their fanfare.

Flashguns flickered like tiny lightning strikes as all eyes followed his Holiness moving along the line, his hands raised in the sign of blessing.

The room was rich with decoration. Great gilded angels and cherubs at every ceiling corner. Scarlet drapes heavy with brocade at each window. The word sumptuous best described the room and the mood of those kneeling on the thick carpets could be described as expectation. Emotions were running high. But not just because of the vastness of the room or its bright decoration. There was another sensation. Excitement.

His Holiness had blessed them personally. A memory they would all keep till their dying day. And they gazed adoringly at the back of his gleaming white robes as he turned to wave for a last time. The great doors closed as he made his last sign of the cross. And the ceremony was over.

He coughed, his throat dry, as he stepped into the small lift with a Senior Cardinal. The other cardinals stood back. They bowed reverentially as he stepped into the private lift whose doors closed with a soft hiss. A second passed.

‘Good job today Paulus, good job,’ the big man next to him husked, his red Senior Cardinal’s Cape hanging heavily across his shoulders.

He tapped a code into the digital keypad on the wall. Paulus smiled shyly, averting his eyes. The lift was mirrored. He stared at his papal robes. They were an exact copy of the Holy Father’s, made by the same man.

He’d gotten the job, stand in for the Pope, through a curious stroke of luck.

The lift smoothly came to a halt at an un-numbered floor. Of course it was all a closely guarded secret. Cardinal Brachetti genially patted his shoulder. Paulus smiled as he remembered their first meeting.

The changing room was airy and pleasant. His cubicle even had a spray of fresh flowers. This was his first month on the job.

It was his sister who’d seen the advert in the local newspaper. Look-a-likes wanted. She’d often remarked how much he looked quite like the Holy Father. It was an agency that supplied entertainers for parties. He’d gone along for an audition.

The small office above the launderette had been cramped and hot. He’d sat with two Elvis’s, a Tom Cruise and a slightly overweight Berlusconi. They were all very good he’d thought. The likenesses quite amazing. The man who ran the place had been very friendly.

And Paulus had been taken on.

His first booking was nerve racking. It had been at a very grand hotel for an American investment bank. His papal costume was very poor but it was all he could afford. The material was cheap and the nylon grey wig scratchy and hot. But he’d haltingly read out a statement to the assembled diners and then mock-blessed them. People were howling with laughter. His act went down well but he’d felt bad. Foreigners mocking the Holy Father.

He’d struggled with the whole concept. But, as his sister had pointed out, the money was very good. His pizza van delivery job not so well paid. Each month it got harder to make ends meet.

But then salvation.

The Cardinal himself had visited him at his tiny apartment. He’d been embarrassed to let the man see how he lived. The place was very poorly furnished. And then the proposition. The amazing proposition. Life changing. He was to stand in for the Holy Father at Vatican events. His life had started anew.

The conditions, though stringent, were acceptable. Highly acceptable. No-one could know. His cover story was that he worked in the Cardinal’s office as a personal assistant. But his true job was simple. The Holy Father had a punishing schedule. Countless events and audiences. And he was not a young man anymore.

The Cardinal was Head of Vatican security and his vast network of contacts had led him to Paulus. And so Paulus had begun to fill in for his Holiness at various events. The special voice coach had given him the skills to mutter a few phrases. Nothing long. Blessings and such like. He’d had to lose a few pounds in the Vatican gym and he’d had to dye his own natural brown hair grey like the Holy Father’s. When he visited his family and friends he wore a very expensive brown wig and cleverly designed new glasses. But this new life was very good. Certainly worth the tiny inconveniences.

He had a minimum of four appearances every day. Double on Sunday’s and special days. Every other Friday and Monday off. General audiences to attend. All cleverly stage-managed. He lip synched to short speeches; shook hands, lots of hands and gave out papal medals and awards. And, as the Cardinal explained, people were so excited to meet the Holy Father they were off-guard the entire time.

But even Paulus had to admit the likeness was startling. His face almost a facsimile. Each morning when he sat in the makeup chair it was clear. The photograph of the Holy Father they used was almost a mirror image of Paulus. That was what the Cardinal had seen at their first meeting. Paulus was perfect for the job and the long hours of study were not too hard. He was a good Catholic and a diligent student.

Three months he’d been at it before the Cardinal had deemed him ready. A remarkable overall physical resemblance, identical mannerisms and a voice that would fool all but the very closest advisors. Paulus was uniquely qualified. A gift from God he thought.

Memories of driving his noisy pizza delivery scooter through the stifling Rome heat occasionally popped into his mind. He wasn’t stupid, he knew his limitations both in life and financially. Then this amazing job offer with enough money to let him live very comfortably now and later. And it came with a very generous Vatican pension plan. Paulus smiled at himself in the mirror as he pulled his brown wig into place and tugged on his new red jeans.

It had been explained that when not being his Holiness he had to look as different as possible, a task they achieved. At first he had felt strange. The clothes they chose very different to his old style. Bright colours. Designer brand label clothing. Very clever.

As he padded along the corridor to his large, new apartment he yawned. That had been a long day he thought. But a good one. He put his key in the lock and let himself in.

Time for a nap. He’d have dinner and get an early night then a day off tomorrow seeing his sister Carlotta and the kids. Life was very good.

He sat in his sister’s apartment admiring the new television’s picture, which was very sharp. The colours so vibrant. A birthday gift to his nephews. The crowd onscreen roared their approval. St Peters square was packed with the faithful. The Holy Father waved from the balcony. Paulus idly flicked the channel. Today he wasn’t needed until much later.

Lunch smelled fantastic. Family cooking, the best thing in the world he thought and, as they sat at the table, he bowed his head and said the grace.

He loved his family. His two nephews so adorable. His sister a delight. The day passed very pleasantly, he even managed to doze for a while on the sunlit balcony of the apartment. The hours passed until his alarm watch beeped. Duty called.

After hugging everyone, he ambled out the door and into his new Alfa Romeo. It wasn’t a sports car. Just a regular model. Medium sized. But it was the first brand new car he’d ever had. A gift from the Cardinal. A work car he’d been told. It had a great stereo and air conditioning. And best of all, leather seats. He adored it.

He waved to the children, smiled and tooted his horn then headed back to the Vatican. Time for work...

The young nun brushed at Paulus’s shoulder with a fine brush.