Chapters Of Life Book 1

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: 9781470976477

Book preview

Chapters Of Life

Book One

By

Ed Harris

Published by

The Bancroft Press

First Published in December 2022

First ebook edition

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

Book One is dedicated to the memory of my old friend from Bromyard

Keith Perkins

1946-2003

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 One

Chapter 1

1962:  Saturday the 1st of September

Are you goin to get up, or lie there all day?

S'time?

Twenty past ten.

Shit. Is that all?

Huh. You're just lazy.

Luke looked at Sharron as she moved away from his door and came further into the bedroom. Her long, black, curly hair whispered teasingly about her lips as she chewed the life out of another piece of gum.

Want one?

Yeh. Cheers.

Luke caught the stick, unwrapped it and curled it into his mouth also, tasting the sweet peppermint on his morning-dry tongue. As his teeth and jaws worked at breaking the gum in, Luke’s eyes again settled on Sharron. At 14 she was quite tall for her age, only being some 2 inches shorter than his 6 ft. Dressed in her usual tight Levi jeans, her slender legs appeared far longer than they actually were, giving her an almost wispy appearance. But this was deceptive, for, as he knew, beneath her black, studded, leather jacket and jumper, Luke had found a well filled out shapely young body, one that had kept him awake for many a long night as they had explored and tested the limits of their love making.

Sharron reached a hand down into one of her long, black, leather boots and scratched, as Luke sighed.

Put a record on, if you wants.

Yeh, will in a jiff. You got livestock in here?

It's only you that's scratchin. Got crabs, I s’pect.

Caught em off you, then.

Luke did not reply, but sat up and lit 2 cigarettes. Passing one over to her.

Sharron shuffled a few records together and stacked them on Luke’s record player.

My old woman asked where I was, again, last night.

What did you tell her?

Nuffin. Told her to mind her own fuckin business.

She think you was with me?

S'pect so. Don't care anyway. Do you?

Naw. Just another pain in the arse, that's all.

They fell silent then and listened as Eddie Cochran belted out 'C’mon Everybody'. Then, as 'Summertime Blues' started, Luke swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Sharron studied his bare body as he stretched before her, a little smile about her lips, making Luke laugh.

Wot you grinnin at?

Oh. Nuffin. Just thinkin.

Yeh? Well, be careful.

Arsehole.

Luke ignored her and climbed into his Levi’s. When he was fully dressed, he brushed his hair and pocketed his cigarettes.

Time for a cup of coffee, yeh?

Cheers.

Today was a Saturday,  the sixth one since he had left school. He could not believe it really. Although, for the last fifteen months or so, Luke and a few of his friends had spent more of their time down at the bookies and pub than at school. Sometimes they did not go into school at all, staying in the cafe all day and only venturing out to the school gates to meet the girls as they came out, with Luke whisking Sharron away on the back of his bike. That was when they police were not around of course, as Luke was still only 15, but he usually managed to dodge them.

After school, the first stop was the 'Doors' cafe in the High street of the town. Although Bromyard was only a small market town of some 1,850 people, it boasted three cafes. The 'Doors', where all of the motor bike/Rocker groups hung out. The 'Bus Stop', where mostly those waiting for the busses visited, and, finally, the 'Tea Rooms', which was, to them, a hive of snobbery, and a place where Luke's gang were definitely not welcome.

As well as these three cafes there were no less than ten pubs in the town, eight of them being in the main street, or adjacent to it.

( Though The Green Dragon in Cruxwell Street-opposite the Alms houses- had ‘officially’ closed some years earlier, it was still used to some extent, and is not counted here as one of the 8).

Their usual hang out was the back bar of 'The Queens Arms', a bar which catered for the 'serious' drinker. It was also a cider house of some repute throughout the surrounding counties and the scene of many a memorable fight. Luke's Father had been at the centre of a few such scrapes himself in previous years and was also still a regular there. They had no jukebox inside to distract them, the only concession to the modern age being a one-armed-bandit, which possessed an unfathomable desire to pay out its jackpot to the least deserving, usually Jack, the barman. For all of this, however, the pub was very popular with the youngsters of a certain group, who saw it as something of a challenge to try and get 'accepted' into the drinking company of the Queens Arms back bar. Equally, there were those who would not go near the place, even to the extent of avoiding passing it through the 'alley', (or, the Leopard entrance) which was the local short-cut between the Town's High street and Rowberry Street ( the 'Back Street' as it was always referred to by the locals.)

Today though, Luke was going to clean his bike. He had only had this one for some ten weeks now, but was well at ease with it, riding and throwing it around bends like an extension of himself. It was an Ariel Golden Arrow 250cc twin and, although he did not like two strokes in general, could find no fault with his 'Arrow'. Provided. that is, so long as he remembered to shake the bike vigorously before switching it on so as to disperse the oil throughout the petrol in the tank. This was to avoid oiling-up of the plugs- being a notorious 2-stroke problem, if ignored.

His earlier machines had been BSA's. A vintage, to Luke, C11 and a more recent C15. But the Ariel was in a class of its own, leaving all of its rivals far behind.

His next ambition was to get a 650cc Triumph Bonneville, and to this end he was already working. For, as soon as he was 16 and had passed his test, Luke was going to have a 'Bonnie' on the road. Then he would really be happy and at the front of them all. However Luke still had a few more months to go yet before he was sixteen and, in those four months, had to save another £45.00 towards his cherished dream. He was never short of money though, as he 'dealt' in most things, both legal and illegal. Whatever the customer required, then Luke would always locate and provide. From nylons to spirits, cigarettes to car parts, Luke could always be relied on to produce the goods through his far-reaching range of contacts.

Besides his own  ventures, Luke was also employed at the Falcon and in the back bar of the Queen’s Arms, where he helped with the cellerwork and general cleaning. He also helped out in the Doors cafe whenever required by Maurice.

For over three years now, Luke had an occasional job at a local dairy farm, doing hand milking and other duties.

In the last 18 months, he had also been assisting on a casual basis at a local agricultural contractors, learing to master  the latest JCB digger and other tools.

Luke’s Father had introduced Luke to the owner, as being an expert with diesel engines, as Luke was, after helping his Father for many years, maintain and mending his lorry.

Sharron stubbed out her cigarette and stared absently out of the kitchen window down the well tended garden, to the Old Road beyond.

Wot's on today then?

Clean me bike first, then we'll see.

Huh. You and your bloody bike. I think you cleans it more than you rides it. It would still go, you know, if you let a bit of dirt stay on it.

Aw, shut up will you. It won't take long with two of us doing it.

I ain't goin to wash it, bollocks to that.

I know. But you can help polish it.

I'm not.

S'up to you then, ain't it, babe. You can fuckin well walk down to the caff.

Sharron sniffed and fell silent. She pinched another of Luke’s cigarettes and lit up, blowing the smoke out of her mouth with silent malice towards him.

Well. Let's get on with it then, if, we must.

When they had finished, the golden and white machine shone like new, and Luke rubbed the sleeve of his leather lovingly over the chromework, carefully avoiding scratching it with his countless studs.

We did a good job, babe, you worked hard. I'll buy the first round in the caff for that.

Oh, bloody charmed I'm sure. Let's go then, or do you want to pick out the little pebbles from the tyres first?

Yeh. That's a good idea.

Sharron kicked Luke on the leg and stamped off towards the house, swearing to herself.

Okay, babe. I was only fuckin jokin. C’mon, let’s burn.

She turned and ambled back slinkily.

I hope that you're goin to give me more than a cup of coffee for helpin with the bike, Lou?

Sure. If you're good, I will.

Oh I will be. I promise you that, Lou. We go?

Yeh. We go.

When they arrived at the cafe, some half dozen of their friends were there lolling over the benches. As they moved over to make way for Luke and Sharron, he handed one of them a ten shilling note.

Coffees is on me.

Christ, Lou. You won on the fuckin horses again?

Naw. Just in a generous mood.

Sharron looked hard at Luke but said nothing. Instead, she took out a packet of Embassy and handed them around.

Didn't know you had any, babe?

I didn't till I came up to your place, Lou.

Bitch.

Prick.

Luke reached over to her and squeezed her left nipple.

Pardon.

Oh. Ow, you bastard.

Who?

Ow. I mean. Sorry.

That's better.

He let go the pressure and massaged the whole breast, cupping his hand beneath it and teasing her nipples between his fingers and thumb.

Okay now?

Hmm.

More later, then.

Oh. Not now?

Grinning, Luke grabbed hold of her and they began a long, sensuous embrace that forced their bodies rigidly together. When they came up for air, a loud cheer went up from the others, and they all sat down laughing. Hawk gave Luke his change and stirred at his coffee with a forefinger that resembled a well used oily dipstick off one of the bikes.

We goin anywhere tonight, Lou?

Wot's on?

Not a fuckin lot.

There's that ponce do on up at the ‘Pubic’ Hall.

Shit to that, man.

Yeh. Right load of tossers they'll be. Probably stay in the boozer.

Luke sipped his coffee and watched the cafe owner advance towards him. Maurice (The Moorhen) had been in the town for around five years now, having moved there from Coventry. He was a short, thin man in his early 30’s, with a pointed chin, pointed nose and dark Brown, staring eyes. His, almost, bald head was ringed by a fringe of black hair, which he wore long, and, out in the wind, or when he ran his hand through it, stuck up at the back like a ducks tail.

Lou. Can you get me some more spuds?

Yeh. S'pect so. When?

Like today?

How many?

Many as you can.

See wot I can do, Moorhen.

Good lad. Have the next one on me, you lot.

They all rushed to finish their drinks and Sharron helped to carry the cups back to the counter, aided by Lucy. Luke watched as she stood waiting for the refills next to Sharron. Lucy was fifteen and had been in Luke’s year at school, though rarely in the same class as him, at Ashfield’s Secondary Modern.

Lucy stood only five feet one inch, but was well built, having long, light brown hair, and the same deep, black eyes that Sharron had.

Luke had never been with Lucy, but had often wondered about her on the odd occasion that he saw her around.

Hawk brought Luke back to the present.

I think old Thomas's got some spuds stacked away up at his place.

How many?

Dunno. But they've started liftin the fuckers, I knows that.

Bit early, ain't it?

Yeh. Me old dear says it's to do with the weather.

Don't Chris Bullock work for Thomas?

Yeh, S’right. Usually drinks at the Falcon, front bar.

Yeh. Might go and see him later.

That pratt won't flog us any, he's too tight to fuckin well fart.

With the coffees  back, Luke shoved up against the wall to let Sharron and Lucy sit down as they continued to discuss Chris Bullock and Potatoes. Hawk took out his packet of cigarettes and handed them around. Tom lit up and leaned over the table.

Lou. Me sister asked if we can get any more of them stockings. You knows, the ones we had the other week?

Yeh. Why?

Well, she's changed jobs and reckons she can flog em at work for us.

Where's she work now?

" Eltex, in Worcester.

Fuck me. How many works there?

Fuckin hundreds, mate. You could make a fuckin fortune out of that. Her mate works at Windshields, over by Diglis, even more fuckers works there.

Yeh. We'll see. Tell her I'll be in touch.

Maurice (the Moorhen) shouted over at Luke's table.

You lot staying for dinner?

They all had a quick discussion before Luke replied.

Only three of us.

Right. As long as I knows. Ten minutes do you?

Yeh. Magic. Hey, Moorhenm, Cheesy chips for me, okay?

The other two grinned and quickly also asked for Cheesy chips.

This was a speciality of Maurice’s, which he had discovered by accident.

After deep frying his chips one day in the normal manner, Maurice had placed them in a tray to keep warm under the grill.

One of th staff members had accidentally dropped the tub of grated Cheese over them, having pulled the tray out, thinking that it was toast.

Luke had been present and, as Maurice stood fuming at the loss, had tasted one.

Luke had instantly loved the taste and popped them back into the oven for a few minutes for the cheese to melt. Since that day, Maurice’s Cheesy Chips had reigned supreme in the Cafe.

Tom, Hawk, Dave & Sue made their exit then, and Lucy moved around the bench until she was opposite Luke. As they ate their dinner, the two girls chatted while Luke got on with his meal in peace, listening to the various records that boomed out of the nearby jukebox. He was still wondering about how to get hold of some Potatoes for Maurice.

After finishing their meal of sausage, beans, egg and chips, they all lit up and sipped at their coffees.

Lucy was looking at Luke, giving him a wide smile.

Lou.

Yeh, babe?

I knows Chris Bullock.

Yeh. So does I.

Yeh. But he don't fancy you, do he?

Dunno. He might. He’s a funny bastard. Anyway, why?

Well. He does me, don't he?

And?

What if I was to, sort of, get round him about some spuds, think it would work?

Dunno. He's a bit of a shit head, ain't he?

Yeh, I know. I don't like him a lot, but he gives me lifts sometimes when I'm walking.

Didn't know he had a motor?

Naw. He ain't. On his bloody tractor, I means.

Oh. Magic. What's he do, touch you up while you sits on the mudguard?

Fun-ny. I don't let him touch me.

Huh.

Wot's that bloody well mean?

Forget it.

I was goin to suggest that I goes and sees him, as he normally has his dinner at the Falcon.

Know that much, does you?

That's where I goes if I wants a lift. Nuffin else.

Luke grinned at her.

Go see if he's there then, if you like.

Okay. Shan't be a tick.

Luke and Sharron entered into another embrace while they were waiting, and were still deep in each others arms when Lucy returned, tapping Luke lightly on the head as she resumed her seat.

He's not there yet. But they said he would be in for a late dinner around three.

Could be handy.

Yeh. Wot do you want me to do?

Dunno yet. We'll wait and see.

Wot do I get if I pulls it off?

Wot you want?

Lucy looked at Luke and grinned, her lips pursed.

Well.

Sharron quickly pulled Luke around to face her.

Sorry to butt in, like, but I'm here.

Okay. Okay.

Well. So long as you remembers that. I'm sure Lucy will find a sack of spuds useful, especially big, knobbly, ones.

Lucy was on her feet.

Wot's that fuckin mean?

Oh. Nuffin.

Watch your mouth then.

Balls to you.

Bitch.

Shithead.

Luke put up his hands between them.

Listen, you two. Shut up and sit fuckin down.

She called me a bitch.

I said sit down and shut up, Sharron, or I'll fuckin well start. Like a couple of bloody tabbies you is.

Both girls were sullen and silent as Luke passed them cigarettes and held the lighter for them. Lucy blew a cloud of smoke straight into Sharron's face.

Last fuckin time I offers to help.

Listen, Lucy. I said cool it. I don't know wot's the fuckin matter with you two.

Sharron sniffed.

That bag can't get a bloke of her own unless they pays her, and, she has to try and pinch someone else's.

Who are you callin a bag? You fuckin scrubber.

You bitch. Me, a scrubber? Ha, that's rich, comin from you.

Yeh, you are. You slag.

Sharron's hands leapt forward across the table and grabbed Lucy's hair. Yanking it forward she smacked Lucy's head hard into the table top, banging her chin.

You bastard.

Then they were really at each other, and Luke watched them for a few seconds before standing up. Grabbing a handful of the girl’s hair in each hand he savagely pulled them apart, causing them both to scream loudly in pain. Their hands left each others faces and flew to their own heads. Luke pressed on top of them until they were both seated, the tears streaming from their eyes as they sobbed with pain. Twisting the hair in his fists he increased the pressure.

You two cows goin to behave yourselves, now?

They both gasped out a 'Yes'.

Sure?

The  'Yes'  came again.

He let them go, and they both started to massage their scalps vigorously. Sharron threw him a sour look.

You didn't have to do that, you know.

I told you not to fuckin start anythin, but you did.

She should have kept her mouth closed.

So should you.

Huh. Takin her side, is you?

No.

You called me a cow.

So. I called Lucy one, too?

Yeh. Well. It fits her, don't it?

Lucy was also massaging her head and still sniffing, but she remained silent.

Cool it now, okay, Sharron?

Huh.

If you starts again, I'll fuckin well clock you one.

Won't hit her though, old cow face bitch, will you?

I won't fuckin tell you again, girl.

Sharron sat in silence then and ignored both Luke and Lucy. She lit up one of her own cigarettes without handing them around, so Luke lit two of his up and passed one to Lucy, winking at her as he did so. She just sat staring down at the table top without responding, so he placed the smoke between her lips. Lucy raised her eyes then and Luke saw the faint scratches on her cheeks from Sharron's clawing nails. She did not smile at him, but sat there quietly smoking. Then she rose.

Want a cup of coffee, Lou?

Yeh. Cheers.

He nudged Sharron lightly, but she moved away.

Don't touch me.

Hey. C'mon. Wot's up, babe?

Wot's up? You sits there with that cow faced bitch making eyes at you, and you asks me, wot's up?

I don't care.

No. I bet you don't.

Aw. C'mon. Give us a kiss.

Leave me alone. You hurt me when you pulled my hair.

Well. I told you to fuckin well stay quiet.

Huh. I'm not goin to let that 'thing' --insult me.

Why not, you insulted her?

That's cos she deserves it.

Aw. Shut up, Sharron.

Oh. Takin her side is you?

Piss of. girl.

I might just do that.

Well close the fuckin door after you, then. Cheers, Lucy.

Oh. Fuck the lot of you. Have the old cow if you wants. I don't care. I'm off.

With that, Sharron quickly rose from the table and slammed out of the cafe. Maurice covered his ears with his hands as the door banged loudly after her, and looked skywards. Luke laughed and turned back to Lucy.

You okay?

Yeh. Just about.

Sorry about your hair.

Yeh.

Want a cig?

Cheers. I'm sorry about bustin you and Sharron up.

S'okay.

Will she come back?

Dunno.

I'm sorry, anyway.

Don't be, I don't mind.

Oh.

Yeh, well. You goin to see your boyfriend soon, then?

He's not my boyfriend, and you knows it, Lou.

Okay. Okay.

" We'll finish our coffee first then, go and see if he's there, if