Chapters Of Life Book 4

By Ed Harris

Bromyard in the 1960’s as seen through the eyes of a group of local motorbike-riding teenagers, who alternate between the local cafe and pub in their quest for adventure and excitement. The novel is based upon extracts taken from a set of 4 diaries that were kept by 4 different local Bromyard girls at that time. All 4 were teenagers in the 1960’s, though one of them turned 20 in 1964. Follow Luke and his friends through various escapades in and around the small market town of Bromyard in Herefordshire.
Note: Suitable for over 18’s only due to its graphic content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781470933876

Book preview

Chapters Of Life 

Book Three

By

Ed Harris

Published by

The Bancroft Press

A picture containing background pattern Description automatically generated

First Published in March 1983

      1st Ebook edition publish December 2022

Copyright held by Ed Harris.

No part of this work may be used in any format without the prior written consent of the author.

www.edharris.co.uk

Chapters Of Life comprises 12 separate books in total, covering the years 1962-1968 of teenage Bromyard life.

The set also includes the following volumes:

Chapters Of Life - The excluded Chapters - Books 10-12

Chapters that were omitted from the original 9 Chapters series for various reasons.

Chapters of Life - The Return  - Books 13-15

Luke’s return to Bromyard

This novel is based upon daily diary entries kept by 4 local teenagers at the time in the 1960’s, who lived in and around Bromyard town.

The story is woven around the events described within these diaries.

All characters portrayed in this work are fictional, and any connection to a living person is purely coincidental and non intentional.

The town of Bromyard is portrayed and described as it was in the 1960’s and offers a true representation of the shops and locations there at that time.

Chapters Of Life

Book Three

CHAPTER 1

Some 4 weeks after the death of Hazel, Luke decided to visit the Doors again.

Jane eyed him tenderly as she poured his cup of coffee, and, as he sat in one of the booths alone, followed Luke over, sitting beside him. Jane’s eyes were full of sorrow and her voice cracked emotionally as she spoke.

Lou. We’re all so very sorry about what happened to poor Hazel, and we can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feelin. But, please, give us a chance to help you over this, we all want to, so much. We’re your friends, Lou. I saw you at the cemetery last Sunday, I had some flowers for Hazel too, but I waited til you left.

I didn’t see you, babe. You should have come over.

Oh, Lou. I couldn’t really. I, we, we all do, feel so bad about thinking that you’d forgotten us these last few months. It was only when Rob told us the full story that we realised the truth. Please forgive us all, Lou.

Hell, baby. There’s nothin to forgive. Let’s just forget it, Huh?

Yeh, okay. Oh, Hi Tom.

Hi, Jane. Lou. You’re back with us at last, in the land of the livin. Oh fuck. Man. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean that.

Shut up, man. Forget it. Let’s have some more fuckin coffee’s here Jane, babe. Sit down, man, how’s it all goin these days?

Fuckin ace, man. All of your little deals is still strong. I’ve had a few Judy’s chasin me over pills and that, but I’m on top of it all now. Fuckin everyone seems to be gettin pregnant lately.

Yeh. You watch yourself then. Anyway, cheers mucker. Much appreciated.

Hell. No sweat, man. I gets to see all the birds this way.

Yeh. True. So, wot else is new, then?

Not a lot. Me pissin French cousin is comin over today. The old man’s pickin her up.

Her?

Yeh. Ain’t seen her for years. She’s a right fuckin pain.

Yeh?. Can you hang onto the deals for a bit longer?

Sure. No sweat. Just let me know when you’re ready.

I will.

Luke drank up and rose.

I got to split now. See you around.

Once he was outside, Luke lit up a smoke and kicked his bike over, revving it loudly as he sat astride it, wondering where to go.

As he roared away from the café, he turned down through the square and automatically found himself slowing down at the cemetery gates in Station Road.

Crushing the butt-end beneath his heel, Luke took off his helmet and walked slowly through the still cemetery, noticing the different flowers that decorated some of the graves.

His own flowers were still on Hazel’s and Crista’s grave, and he knelt to rearrange the  blue, yellow and white petals in their white stone vase.

Luke gazed absently at the several other bunches of flowers that lay there, and wondered which ones were from Jane.

The newer headstones and surrounds on some of the nearby graves gleamed in the warm afternoon sunshine, the marble whiteness seeming harsh against the lushness of the thick, green, grass.

Sitting now on a corner of the graveside Luke pressed a hand firmly into the loose earth, as if trying to make contact with Hazel.

The tears came easily to his eyes again and Luke bowed his head, letting them flow unheeded down his cheeks.

Oh Bright Eyes. I do love you baby, and little Crista too. Why. Why. Why.

The last word was almost a shout, and Luke banged his fist down hard onto the sharp pebbles that lay scattered about, ignoring the pain as they dug easily into his flesh.

Bending forward, Luke kissed the flowers and ran his hand carelessly over the statuette of an Angel holding a baby that he had placed there himself the previous weekend.

Luke had told Hazel’s parents that he would pay for the Headstone to be installed once the ground had settled in a few mionths time, as, indeed, he had paid for all of the funeral expenses for his beloved wife and daughter.

Pushing himself to his feet, Luke stood staring down at the grave for long minutes. Luke remembered all of the happy times they had experienced together and a new wave of emotion passed over him, as he realised, yet again, that his whole future would be without Hazel and little Crista, and that all of their plans would never now be fulfilled.

Turning away, in emotional agony now, Luke strode stiffly back towards his waiting machine and gunned it savagely up the hill to his home.

Sitting in the Doors the following day Luke felt, in the main, to be back to his old self once more and joked with Jane and Dave, who was just leaving as Luke arrived.

Luke squeezed Jane’s hand gently as she sat beside him in the booth, pulling her to him. He quickly planted a soft kiss on her cheek, but as she began to respond, pulled away.

That was for bein around, baby.

Nothin else?

Naw. Not yet, babe. I can’t handle things like that right now, babe.

I’ll be around Luke, when you’re ready, when you want me. Don’t leave it too long though, please, Lou.

As Jane began serving once more, Luke scanned the racing pages in the Daily Sketch for any interesting bets, looking up as Tom breezed in. Luke looked again as he saw the very pretty girl standing next to a, now widely grinning, Tom.

Despite his loss, Luke found that his interest quickened as Tom’s cousin seated herself down in the booth on the opposite side of the table. Her long, black, hair was cut in a simple fringe and her jet black eyes gazed back at him with a curious frankness.

She spoke rapidly in French to Tom, who replied equally as fast in the same language, much to Luke’s total amazement.

Fuck me Tom, I never knew you could speak frogeneese?

Yeh, well. Some of us is educated, mate.

Oh sure. Wot the fuck was she rabbitin on about, anyway?

She asked me who you was, so I told her.

Yeh. I bet you fuckin did, too.

Well. I told her the general story up home, sort of prepared her, like.

Arsehole. Well, that’s me well fucked then, ain’t it? Does it speak normal?

Wot, English?

Yeh.

A little. She can understand  s l o w  s p o k e n  English, not the crap that you fires up, though.

Huh. Balls.

Tom laughed and spoke rapidly to the girl once more, who nodded her head and grinned as she looked at Luke.

Okay, man. Wot’s the fuckin score?

Tom turned to his cousin and grinned as he answered.

She says, wot score? Wot’s the game?

Fu-nny. Wot’s her fuckin name?

Same as the one she uses when she ain’t. Hey, that was fuckin good for me, mucker, weren’t it? Jeez. I always amazes meself lately.

I’ll fuckin well amaze you a bit more in a minute, you arsehole.

Yeh, sorry, Lou. Hang on, I’ll get her to tell you herself.

The girl looked at Luke and smiled, her eyes resting on the table as she spoke.

J m appelle Chantal. Je suis tres heureux de faire votri connaissance.

Jeez. Wot the fuck was all that about, Tom. I only wanted her fuckin name. Yeh. And her normal one.

Haha. She was just bein polite, mate.

Yeh, well. She can be bloody polite without doin me fuckin head in, can’t she?

Roughly, she said that her name is Chantal. She’s pleased to meet you and how do you do.

Yeh. Chantal, eh? Hmm. Nice. Hi, babe. I’m Lou.

Tom translated and her little smile widened.

Enchante.

Hey, man. Is she enchanted?

Yeh. Really means, it’s a pleasure. Delighted.

Okay, okay. Good this, innit?

Oh yeh. Magic, Lou.

Chantal looked at Luke and speaks slowly.

Doo yu av ceeg…?

She trailed off, raised her hands and turned to Tom.

Luke grinned.

Tell her I’ll give her anythin she wants.

They all laughed and, after another rapid exchange between Tom and Chantal, she looked down at the table top again, blushing, while Tom explained.

There you goes, mate. I told her that you’d give her anythin that she asked for. Fuckin good to you, ain’t I, Lou?

Yeh. Wot would I do without you?

Passing her a smoke, Luke held his lighter for her.

Merci.

Mercy? Mercy?

Oui.

Wee. Fuck me, Tom, wot am I gettin into here, a pissin contest, or wot?

Ahh, wouldn’t you like to know mucker, Oui?

Wee. Well, tell her it ain’t that fuckin small.

Tom grinned and climbed over Chantal to reach the juke box.

As they sat together, Luke smiled at her and spoke slowly, emphasising each word.

You like it here, babe?

Oh. Oui. Tres bien.

Tom. Wot was that?

Wot was wot?

That tray bean, or somethin?

Very well.

Hmm. Yeh. I likes it.

Yeh, Lou, thought you might, somehow.

How old’s it?

Fifteen, or Quinze in French.

Quinze?

Yeh.

Chantal rose.

Pardon. Voulez vous café a lait, Oui?

Tom grinned.

Oui. Trois, sill vous plait.

Merci bien.

Luke grinned and shook his head.

Hey, man, this is beyond me, but sounds great.

As Chantal stood at the counter, Luke gazed over at her, noticing her long legs beneath her faded blue denim skirt and long, furry, cream coloured jacket. As she turned to bring the cups back, Luke also noticed that her figure was slim and firm-looking beneath her pink polo neck jumper.

Cheers, baby. No. Hang on, mercy, yeh?

Bon. Merci, Oui, Tom?

Yeh, he’s gettin good, ain’t he?

As Tom and Chantal exchanged rapid fire, Luke sipped his steaming coffee as Jane appeared to collect the empties. Leaning over Luke, she grabbed him between the legs and gently squeezed, rubbing her hand up and down. Chantal’s eyes widened at this, switching from Luke’s zip, to Jane, and back again, following the motion of Jane’s hand.

Giving Luke a final squeeze, Jane winked and walked away as Luke settled himself back in the seat.

Chantal glanced again at Luke’s face, then fired off quickly at Tom, who replied, laughing.

She asked me about you and Jane. I told her that you was just good friends. She said, is that wot good friends does to each other over here?

They all laughed and Tom dished out the smokes. Eventually, Luke rose and stretched.

I’m off to the bookies. You comin?

Tom spoke to Chantal, who smiled as she rose and filed out behind Tom and Luke.

Inside the bookies, Luke studied the latest form before selecting his horses. Chantal picked up a pen and smiled at Luke.

Pardon. Cest a quel nom, sill vous plait?

Tom.

Yeh. She wants to know wot name to write down. Hang on, I’ll tell her to leave it to the expert.

When all of their bets were placed, and Tom had explained the basic procedure to Chantal, Luke decided to go into the Queen’s Arms for a pint, where he ordered the round.

Chantal asked for a half of cider, and, to their utter amazement, she downed the whole glassful in one go, setting it back down on the counter to loud cheers from them all.

Luke laughed.

Fuck me. Want another, babe?

Luke indicated his question with a drinking motion. Chantal smiled and replied, nodding her head.

Oh. Oui, sill vous plait.

Jack, a refill for the young lady here.

Jack grinned.

She’s got you by the balls now Lou, ain’t she?

Naw. Not yet, but we’ll see, give it time, mate.

They all laughed at this and Chantal looked enquiringly at Tom, who only grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

Chantal raised the glass to her lips and gave them a repeat performance.

Luke whistled.

Christ. She takes it like bloody water.

Tom laughed.

Yeh. Well, she’s used to champagne out there. A rich man’s cider ain’t it?

Yeh.

Chantal turned to Luke, a frown of concentration on her face.

I, er, like cedeer,  no?

They all clapped at her attempt and she blushed prettily before them all and, turning to Tom, starting them both firing off once more, everyone pausing to listen, but none understanding.

Tom winked at Luke.

Got to take it home now. Catch you this evening, yeh?

Yeh, perhaps.

Chantal turned at the door, her eyes on Luke.

A bientot, Lou.

Yeh, sure. No sweat. I’ll buy that, babe. See you

Luke was torn between staying in again that night or going out to join his friends in the Queen’s Arms.

His memory of Hazel was still very strong and he gazed at her photograph lovingly as it sat alone on Luke’s beside table.

He knew that she would have wanted him to start enjoying himself once more, now that the worst of the trauma was all over. He remembered her words, still loud and clear in his head, hearing them as if she stood before him, speaking lovingly to him.

I don’t mind what you do, Lou, after I’m gone, just as long as you remember me, my darling Husband.

Luke would always do that, he knew. His life would never be quite the same again now, no matter who he met in the future.

Hazel’s vision and undying love would always be with him until his own dying day. He still could not believe that they had married, even though it was for brief short days. Luke knew then that no one would ever take the place of his beautiful Hazel, no matter how far into the future it was.

Making his mind up at last, Luke donned his leather and kicked the Bonnie over, firing it, like a bullet, down the road to the Queen’s Arms.

Only a few were in the bar, and Luke quickly found himself in a game of  darts. Eventually, the door opened and Tom arrived with Chantal in tow.

Seeing Luke, she smiled broadly and marched up to him, holding her purse aloft.

Bonsoir, Lou. Voulez vous le cidri, Oui?

Cider? Naw. I’m on Guinness, babe.

Mon dieu. Quest ce que c nest, Tom?

Tom laughed, translating for her.

Chantal nodded her head, now understanding Luke’s answer.

Ah. Bier, Oui?

Yeh. Okay. Whatever, mercy, babe.

Oui. Merci bien.

Luke shook his head as Tom ordered up, sipping from his new tankard as his eyes rested on her.

Chantal picked up the darts from the damp counter top and positioned herself roughly in front of the dartboard, some 9 feet away. Aiming carefully, she launched the 3 missiles in rapid succession.

One stood, quivering, in the ceiling. Another skidded across the window frame, leaving a clearly visible bright white scratch along the yellowy-brown stained paint. The third, bounced off the wall, hitting the dartboard light shade and plopped, almost unnoticed, into a full pint of Guinness on one of the tables across the room, startling old Paddy Murphy from his distant thoughts  of homelife in County Cork, Ireland, as he gazed absently a his drink.

Holy Mother of mercy. What have I ever done to you, young lady?

His gaze was severe, but, seeing Chantal’s worried look, he soon broke into a grin. Chantal sighed deeply and launched into an unstoppable torrent of, presumably, embarrassment, and apologies, judging from her blushing cheeks and rapid, frenzied almost, hand movements.

Tom intervened and helped sort the matter out for her, enabling Luke to return to