Under the Law

By J.P. Bowie

It's swinging London in 1973.

Britain's just going 'decimal'; Carnaby Street is the centre of fashion—all of Europe goes there to shop. Soho has yet to become the gay hub it now is. There are no computers to speak of, no Internet dating, no mobile phones, nor even answering machines or VCRs—certainly no CD's or DVDs. Yet, somehow Britain survived, and the Brits even managed to enjoy themselves, despite all that deprivation!

Peter Buchanan is a struggling young singer/actor waiting for his big break in the West End of London. John Reed has been a London bobby all his working life, and has recently been promoted to Inspector. When these two men meet by chance, there is an instant attraction — but not before some bumps in the road to love have been straightened out...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Nov 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9780857150141

J.P. Bowie

J.P. Bowie: I was born and raised in Scotland. Moved to London and worked in several West End shows before immigrating to the United States. First port of call was Las Vegas where I worked backstage with the Siegfried and Roy Show at the Mirage Hotel as Head of Wardrobe for the legendary stars. Another move more recently took me and my husband Phil to San Diego where we intend to stay! Love sunny San Diego.

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Under the Law

ISBN #978-0-85715-014-1

©Copyright J.P. Bowie 2010

Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright January 2010

Edited by Michele Paulin

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing.  Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

Warning:  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.  This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

UNDER THE LAW

J.P. Bowie

Dedication

For Phil

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Jockey:  Jockey International, Inc.

BBC:   The British Broadcasting Corporation

YMCA:  National Council of Young Men's Christian Associations of the United States of America

Chapter One

London, 1973

The dark haired, slender young man, dashing up one of London’s busy streets glanced at his watch as he hurried.  Peter Buchanan was late. His audition for a part in a new West End musical had run longer than he’d anticipated. Dodging traffic on London’s busy streets, he raced toward the pub where he was meeting his sister Janet for lunch. He hated the idea of keeping her waiting. She’d sounded so distraught on the phone earlier in the day, and he knew the reason—always the same reason—her damned husband, Rob.

The Salisbury on St. Martin’s Lane was a lively, busy pub at most times of the day, and especially popular with tourists, but the food was good and the beer reasonable. Britain had recently gone ‘decimal’, and while the Brits struggled to identify the strange new coins they’d been lumbered with, some establishments had taken advantage of the situation, and raised their prices alarmingly, but not the Salisbury.

Arriving slightly out of breath, Peter spotted Janet immediately, and his blood boiled when he saw the bruised eye she was sporting. Damn Rob, he thought. Now, I’m really going to lay him out. Tough thoughts, but Peter knew in a bout of fisticuffs he was nowhere in his brother-in-law Rob’s class. The creep had been in the Royal Marines, an elite squad of tough commandos whose reputation was without parallel. Still, Peter would love to land one on that smug, supercilious face.

Janet… He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. Why do you put up with this?

Because I’m pregnant, she whispered against his cheek.

Peter looked at her, shocked. You’re pregnant, and he’s hitting you? Why, that fucking bastard—

He doesn’t know, yet.

Oh, like that’s an excuse? Janet, you have got to leave him. Go home. Mum and Dad will take care of you until the baby’s born.

She nodded. I know I have to. I want this baby, Peter, and I’m afraid that he’ll… She choked on the words Peter knew she was trying to say. He held her tightly pressed to him, and kissed her cheek while she cried. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a couple, obviously American, regarding him with some suspicion. Lord, he thought, am I the errant husband trying to placate my wife after a secret affair has come to light, or the bastard boyfriend breaking it off? Either way, I’m a shit, in their opinion.

Janet hiccupped and pulled back from his arms. I need a drink, she said, dabbing her eyes.

You’re not the only one, Peter chuckled. And while I’m getting them, perhaps you’ll explain to the couple giving me the evil eye, that I’m your loving brother, come to give you comfort in your hour of need.

You do go on, she said, wiping her eyes and trying to smile. I’ll have a white wine—a large one. It’ll be the last ‘til after the baby’s born.

When Peter returned with their drinks, he found Janet deep in conversation with the American couple who, by the sounds of it, were encouraging her to go home to Scotland, that beautiful country they had apparently just visited.

And we were so lucky, the wife gloated. The weather was so much better than here in London.

I’ll say you were lucky, Peter said, plopping down beside Janet and handing over her glass of wine. Last time I was home, it snowed—in June!

* * * *

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