Four 4 One: Romance & Adventure Short Story's by Ctw

By CTW

Passing Ships

I first got the idea for this story, when watching the TV evening news. The presenter was interviewing a very famous female singer/actress from America, {obviously her name has to remain a secret} she was over here in the UK promoting her latest single. Looking closely at her face, even though she was laughing and joking, when asked various questions about her life, you could visibly see, a hint of sadness in her eyes. That gave me an idea to use the image of this famous lady, she would be the character in my story.
I know that most people would prefer to be wealthy, rather than poor, and everybody understands that, but being rich is not just about having lots of money. In this particular story, due to the very bad weather conditions, the woman gets a chance to live a normal life, if only for a few days, and begins to realise that what she is doing in her life, is not enough, or maybe too much!
In the real world, would she want to change?
Who knows! But to be happy and content is everything, isnt it!!!

Survival Alone {maybe}

This story perhaps, has been told many times over the last hundred years or so, and is nothing new, but for a person to be shipwrecked on a desert island, to me it needed something a little bit extra, and different. As in all my stories, in my head, I play the man, who in this case has to try and survive in this hostile environment. With nothing more than a feeling, that someone is talking to him. As the story progresses, I introduce a female who ends up sharing the experience of living on the island. I thought of a well-known and very popular English actress, who a few years ago actually lived on a desert island for a couple of days and nights. When interviewed later, talked about utter loneliness, of the days and nights, in some ways calming yet also quite frightening.
A world apart from our daily lives.

My Scottish Holiday

This story came about because of a motorcycle trip I was on with a friend. We called in for a meal at a place called Flamborough Head out on the east coast of Yorkshire. We were sat having a meal in a conservatory looking out to sea, with a lighthouse in the distance. Seeing that lighthouse in all its splendour fascinated me. I remember as a small boy wanting to spend a holiday in one, but I never got the chance. When I got home that evening, after thinking about it all afternoon, I decided to use the lighthouse as a base for a story, and to use again the weather, as a way to tell the light-hearted plot. The man in the story {me again} rents an old fog warning station and cottage for a winter holiday. Every day it seems to offer him a new experience, and without giving out any more details, only to say that all ends well.

Stella Roberts

This was my very first attempt, at writing a story, I only started writing because someone said I was too old {109} and wouldnt be able to think of anything new, mind you a few beers had changed hands by then. That was like waving a red flag to a bull. I must admit though, changing the plot half a dozen times before settling with Stella Roberts.
Its all about a young women {Stella} and her two girls Rose and Holly. Her husband had been killed in a tragic accident at work, and unable to find any work in the area where they lived, and with no money to pay her rent, left her with no choice but to try and find work in one of the mill towns, in this case Bradford. The problems they had, having to walk the forty miles, the near death experience, and then the good fortune, brought about by sheer determination and hard work. Anyway I thought it made for a good story, you might have a different opinion!!!!!!!!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Feb 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781499094268

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by CTW.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 02/19/2015

Xlibris

800-056-3182

www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

706101

CONTENTS

Authors Comments

Passing Ships

Survival Alone (Maybe)

My Scottish Holiday

Stella’s Diary Rags To Riches

AUTHORS COMMENTS

As a writer, I have to say that these four short stories were fun to write for me, perhaps in lots of ways, very old fashioned story`s brought into the twenty first century. I tried to tell in detail what was happening to the characters almost by the hour. How the little details, for instance, what a simple thing like a hot water bottle, meant to the lady`s, the holding hands, the cuddles, all things that as human beings we enjoy very much. My Scottish holiday and Passing ships you could say are two different stories joined by a common language, using the same words and ideas, for instance, the weather played a big part in both stories. How the two people interacted with each other, or maybe how the man liked to treat the women. I liked the way they were the same but for different reasons, so right or wrong I included them both in the book.

You may be interested to know, that I did not want violence of any kind in the story`s, for me a lot of today’s films, books, etc. are perhaps too violent, too unreal or just plain silly, but each to his own. You might think the same about these four short stories. If that’s what you are looking for STOP READING NOW AS YOU WILL BE DISSAPOINTED. My plots are uncomplicated. Mainly about two people, and make for light reading. One final comment, There are no chapters, just page numbers that was my choice, I was never one much for the way things should be done.

[e-mail]

Passing Ships

I first got the idea for this story, when watching the TV evening news. The presenter was interviewing a very famous female singer/actress from America, {obviously her name has to remain a secret} she was over here in the UK promoting her latest single. Looking closely at her face, even though she was laughing and joking, when asked various questions about her life, you could visibly see, a hint of sadness in her eyes. That gave me an idea to use the image of this famous lady, she would be the character in my story.

I know that most people would prefer to be wealthy, rather than poor, and everybody understands that, but being rich is not just about having lots of money. In this particular story, due to the very bad weather conditions, the woman gets a chance to live a normal life, if only for a few days, and begins to realise that what she is doing in her life, is not enough, or maybe too much!

In the real world, would she want to change?

Who knows! But to be happy and content is everything, isn’t it!!!

Survival Alone {maybe}

This story perhaps, has been told many times over the last hundred years or so, and is nothing new, but for a person to be shipwrecked on a desert island, to me it needed something a little bit extra, and different. As in all my stories, in my head, I play the man, who in this case has to try and survive in this hostile environment. With nothing more than a feeling, that someone is talking to him. As the story progresses, I introduce a female who ends up sharing the experience of living on the island. I thought of a well-known and very popular English actress, who a few years ago actually lived on a desert island for a couple of days and nights. When interviewed later, talked about utter loneliness, of the days and nights, in some ways calming yet also quite frightening.

A world apart from our daily lives.

My Scottish Holiday

This story came about because of a motorcycle trip I was on with a friend. We called in for a meal at a place called Flamborough Head out on the east coast of Yorkshire. We were sat having a meal in a conservatory looking out to sea, with a lighthouse in the distance. Seeing that lighthouse in all its splendour fascinated me. I remember as a small boy wanting to spend a holiday in one, but I never got the chance. When I got home that evening, after thinking about it all afternoon, I decided to use the lighthouse as a base for a story, and to use again the weather, as a way to tell the light-hearted plot. The man in the story {me again} rents an old fog warning station and cottage for a winter holiday. Every day it seems to offer him a new experience, and without giving out any more details, only to say that all ends well.

Stella Roberts

This was my very first attempt, at writing a story, I only started writing because someone said I was too old {109} and wouldn’t be able to think of anything new, mind you a few beers had changed hands by then. That was like waving a red flag to a bull. I must admit though, changing the plot half a dozen times before settling with Stella Roberts.

It’s all about a young women {Stella} and her two girls Rose and Holly. Her husband had been killed in a tragic accident at work, and unable to find any work in the area where they lived, and with no money to pay her rent, left her with no choice but to try and find work in one of the mill towns, in this case Bradford. The problems they had, having to walk the forty miles, the near death experience, and then the good fortune, brought about by sheer determination and hard work. Anyway I thought it made for a good story, you might have a different opinion!!!!!!!!

CTW

Well as for myself, there is nothing I want to tell you, for once I’ve run out of words, so let’s leave that one!!!!!

[e-mail]

PASSING SHIPS

It was the third day of my holiday in Scotland; I had hired a cottage just outside Johns haven next to the east-coast shoreline in what seemed to be at the very edge of nowhere, with just one or two abandoned buildings in obscure places. While out walking one day, I came across an unused blacksmiths with everything still inside, wood, coke, Kelly lamps, even firelighters. Apparently it was going to be a tourist site, but it was too far back from the main road and never attracted enough visitors, so it was eventually closed. It was just as if somebody had finished work for the day, closed the door gone home and not bothered to return, amazing.

As a young boy, I would go with my dad to visit his friend Jack the blacksmith, not far from where we used to live. Sometimes we would be there all day, I got to do all sorts of jobs, and nobody seemed to mind me getting dirty.

The idea of spending time at an isolated spot was something that I always fancied doing, and I was enjoying every minute of it. As a boy I had dreams of being trapped on a desert island and learning how to survive in a hostile environment, with no tools of any kind to help me, just my bare hands.

As I had spent the first part of my holiday exploring the area close to the cottage, on day five I decided to drive down to Edinburgh for the day to take in the sights. After wandering about the various tourist traps all morning, I thought it was time for something to eat, so I called in at one of the many public houses in the town. As I came back outside the pub after what was a very nice meal, I was quite surprised at the amount of snow that had fallen, in such a short time, the temperature had also dropped, and it felt really cold.

I had gone through a couple of snow flurries on my way down, but nothing of any real concern.

As I had about a hundred miles to travel to get back to the cottage, I decided not to stay any longer, but to return as quickly as I could, before I became trapped by the snow.

The first seventy miles were quite easy, but as the snow got thicker, it became a much slower ride, I saw very few cars and only a small number of trucks, and to make things worse a very heavy mist was forming, now as well as sliding around on the very treacherous roads. I could only see about twenty yards in front of me, and the snow was still coming down thick and fast.

On the plus side, I was nice and warm in the car and had plenty of fuel, although I never thought about the possibility of becoming stranded and the need to take something to eat and drink.

Things seemed to be going ok, if a little slow, I was about a mile or so from the cottage, when suddenly in front of me was a black four by four car, not moving, and parked without lights, I hit the brakes, swerved to miss it and just managed to stop alongside, I could see somebody inside, I blew my horn, wound my window down, shouted, Are you alright, do you need any help, slowly the car door opened, and what looked like a half frozen female climbed out. She came and sat in my car, I’m so glad you came along, and thank you for stopping, my car’s engine stopped working about an hour ago, and there is no signal out here for my mobile phone, so I was unable to call for any roadside assistance from the breakdown people, I am so cold, and especially now, with the snow so thick on the ground. I thought nobody would find me, and I was going to freeze to death out here.

I told her my name was Jack Wallis, she introduced herself as Lisa May, although I thought I recognized her as someone else, but I decided not to query the name for now, and ask her again later. After speaking with her and making sure she was comfortable, I tried to move the car, but straight away it became obvious that the snow was now too thick for me to drive any distance, I too was going to be trapped.

I did manage, with great difficulty, to get the car into the side of the road.

We were both a little unsure as to what to do next for the best, but at least we were nice and warm.

We talked for a while, and I explained that the cottage where I was staying was not too far away, but that it might be too risky to attempt the walk, as it would be dark before we could get there, and it might be a better idea to stay where we were. Lisa told me she had being staying at a hotel in Dundee, for a few days, on a short holiday, and wanted to see this part of Scotland before Flying back to America, and had just hired the four by four for the day, it never entered her head that the weather might change and even less that a new car would break down.

I thought at first, she was worried about sitting in the car with a stranger, but seemed to relax as we got to know each other a little better.

As the snow continued to fall, I was starting to become concerned about the possibility of the exhaust becoming blocked with the snow and possibly feeding carbon monoxide back into the car.

I thought about what to do next for quite a while before realizing that where we were parked, was actually the entrance to the old blacksmiths, and even though it was about half a mile away, it might be safer to walk up there, than staying in the car all night, I told Lisa of my idea, but suggested that we would have to go straight away while it was still daylight, she agreed. I asked her if she smoked, a question that she did not appreciate, just muttered yes, but only occasionally.

I went on to Explain that I was just making sure we had something to light the fire with at the blacksmiths, she backed off.

We buttoned up our clothes, and prepared for the worst.

As we stepped out of the car, we were hit by an icy cold temperature, heavy falling snow and a thick dense mist, Lisa had a belt on her coat, which she was not using, so I removed it and I tied one end around her wrist, I did the same, just to make sure that we didn’t get separated.

I never imagined that the snow would be so deep, sometimes it came above my knees. I told Lisa to follow in my footsteps which she tried to do, but it was hard.

I remembered a large tree just a few hundred yards from the blacksmiths, and if we could find it we would make it. Lisa wasn’t sure, and at one point threw a paddy, started crying refused to go any further and wanted to go back to the relative safety of the car, I comforted her as best I could, eventually getting her to go just a little bit further, I grabbed her arm and kept her talking, but It still took us another ten minutes before finding the tree, then I recognized the building appearing in and out of the thick mist. As we approached the door, it was virtually impossible to reach the handle for the deep snow, and it took us a few more minutes to clear a path, by this time we were both half frozen.

I pushed open the door, it was pitch black inside, but I knew where the Kelly lantern was as I had used it when I was here earlier in the week. Once the lamp was lit, I found Lisa some ware to sit down.

We were both wet through from the waist down, and needed to dry out quickly. It was so cold in the building. Lisa started crying again, saying that she wished we had stayed in the car, for at least there it was warm. I asked her to trust me, and promised her to she would be nice and warm in a little while; I found and lit a second Kelly lamp, then proceeded to prepare the fire and light the firelighters.

Ten minutes later the coke was glowing, and the whole room had a warm orange glow and a much better feel to it, I used the original bellows to raise the coke temperature even more, and within half an hour it felt like eighty degrees, in the meantime, we removed our jackets, hung them up high to dry, placed our boots and socks, in the warming oven.

Not knowing each other, neither of us liked the idea of removing our jeans, so we kept them on, but they were starting to dry out nicely. In fact you could actually see steam coming from Lisa’s jeans. I found a small pan and we boiled some snow for a hot water drink, it was not very nice, but at least it was warm.

Lisa grumbled a lot about the conditions, saying that she had never in her life experienced anything so bad, and for the last ten years or so, had been used to fine houses and slick hotels. Then, realizing she had perhaps given me a clue as to who she really was, asked me if I knew her real name.

I answered with a smile, yes, I think so, but for now I know you only as Lisa may, I don’t want to know anything more about you, I like it just the way it is, two people caught in unusual circumstances, rich, poor, black, white, famous or not it makes no difference just now.

In a few days you will be back doing what you like doing best, but until then I would like to help look after you, and make sure you are ok. It’s the least I can do. I’m sure I can get you to the cottage at some point, where you will be safe from the elements, dry, warm and well fed until the snow clears enough for me to reach my car, if that’s OK with you. She stood up, looking a little