During the night, the London fog had crept in on the city and stalked silently up river, stolen quietly over the boats and stealthily hidden the mud flats. It extinguished all light in its path. Little candles shivered and went out. People groped their way home through dark passages and once safely inside their houses shut their doors and did not come out again. 

I have reset this true account of a drowned body to Victorian London. It is very much inspired by Charles Dicken’s Our Mutual Friend. I am not a great fan of horror movie genres to be honest. I think the natural world is quite terrifying enough.

Most of my stories have a kernel of real life to them. A spark of conversation will often fire up my imagination. One of my favourite haunts is Winchester and I love walking around its street and squares while observing magnificent characters gathering in its shops and coffee houses.

I hope you enjoy this little collection from my notebook. They make me smile but I haven’t developed them any further.

Arden wore a short green dress, green tights and red shoes under a long black coat.

She carried a small black bag, which had smoke pouring from it.

Stranger than that however, at her feet sat a large and very beautiful rabbit.

‘Bobby,’ said Arden, ‘Meet Lupin, better known as That Rabbit, Lupin meet Bobby.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Lupin, ‘I’m famous among rabbits you know and have my own website.’  He fluffed up his fur and looked very satisfied with himself.

For many years I lived on Turkey Island, a small tucked away corner of Hampshire. Here I discovered Enchanted England and started to write.

Everyone asks of course how it got its name… here are the theories:

1. Turkeys were once kept on Turkey Island common and were walked to Winchester for the Christmas markets.

2. During the first world war Turkish prisoners of war were kept on the common in a kind of open air prison.

3. The old road once was a toll road and the toll keeper had to ‘Turn the key’ to allow stages coaches gallop away on their journey to London and Portsmouth.

Finally, I think, this is a case of a dropped consonant. We have nearby a Mud Island and both Islands were probably - Mud Highland and Turkey Highland. I entered this poem as part of my M.A in creative writing at Winchester.

Seeking was written at least twenty years ago. It is based on a true story. When at primary school my friend came running into school one Monday morning to say that at the weekend an old lady had turned up at their house and said she lived there.

This was baffling to us and we moved onto playing loud playground games but the strange little story stuck with me and when I finally had time to write - this is one of the earliest pieces that arrived.

Now I have a dear friend who is in the early stages of vascular dementia. On each visit, the mystery of the slippery nature of time, identity and language challenges me every time I step through the door. I wish the solution was as simple as to run outside and play.

The illustration is of a poem by Rebecca Ward. To read the full copy please read the link here.

Runa’s Ghost the first story in this trilogy.

While Fishing For Birds is the second story in this trilogy. It can be read as a standalone piece of fiction.

While A Stitch In Time is the final story of this trilogy. It can be read as a standalone piece of fiction.