Penny Hooper's Blog, page 5
February 9, 2020
I Fell in Love with a Psychopath – Prologue
Hello, my little demons!
This isn’t a new story, but I realised today that the published book has a prologue and I haven’t posted it on my website/blog. So, here it is… the first page ‘I Fell in Love with a Psychopath’.
Prologue
A knock at my door made me jump out of my skin. The cold tea I had been nursing spilled over the blanket that was wrapped around me. I stared at the door in a panic, refusing to move. My previous thoughts momentarily forgotten about. I had a feeling I knew who it was on the other side of that suddenly too thin piece of wood; someone I didn’t want to see again, someone who made me extremely nervous, someone who everyone should be scared of.
I had been sat on my sofa while staring into nothingness when it happened; the knock at the door. I had been hiding out in my small apartment for a few days now, since I found out. I refused to leave, refused to go to work, I had invented some story about being ill—although it was technically true, I was feeling a little ill. I even started to ignore calls and my buzzer to my apartment out of fear. I hadn’t even noticed the tea had gone cold, let alone had splashed me when I jumped, I had more important things on my mind, like who was knocking at my door.
He had come for me.
There was another knock, this time a little louder as if the unwanted visitor didn’t think I heard the first knock. I had heard it alright, I was just ignoring it. I stayed as still and silent as possible, worrying that the person behind the door had superhuman hearing or something and could hear even my erratic heartbeat. My hands clutching my mug like it was somehow tethering me to safety.
Suddenly my mobile began to ring, making me jump yet again. I cursed silently at it. My door was thin, I was sure he’d be able to hear the shrill sound of my boring ringtone. When I caught a glance at the caller ID I saw it was my friend and work colleague; Leah. I made a mental note to give her an earful the next time I saw her. If I ever saw her again. If I survived to see her again.
The knock on the door suddenly got louder and more aggressive. A rushed pounding on the door. Panic coursed through me. Had he heard? Would he break the door down? I was sure it wasn’t too difficult, he had done it before.
But it was short lived.
“I know you’re in there, Jo, answer the door!” said a female voice.
I let out a large sigh, not even realising I had been holding my breath and laughed out loud at my foolishness. It wasn’t who I thought it was. I scrambled down from my sofa, nearly tripping over the blanket as I did and absentmindedly took the cold tea with me as I rushed to answer the door.
“What the fuck?” my friend Leah asked me when the door finally opened to her, her strong New Zealand accent wafted through my door along with her beautiful perfume.
“Hi, sorry! I thought you were someone else!” I sighed and stepped aside for her. But Leah hesitated as she looked from the cold cup of tea I was nursing in my hand, to my old baggy clothes on my thin body and finally resting on my clearly blotchy yet pale face.
I was English; I was bound to have a pale face. But lately it had become even paler, even though the sun was still showing its beautiful yellow face mid-autumn—well, they call it fall here, not autumn. But even I had noticed I was whiter than usual.
“You look a mess,” Leah said, and thankfully waltzed into my small flat.
I scanned the exposed corridor quickly behind her before I closed the door. I didn’t even noticing Leah had insulted me.
“Who did you think I was?” she continued, as she surveyed my mess of empty Chinese takeaway pots and unwashed mugs on the coffee table. “A cleaner?” she snorted.
“Don’t start,” I huffed, as I walked back to my sofa and plopped myself down. The sofa almost groaned in protest underneath me. I wasn’t fat, I was stick thin, but the sofa was old.
“I’m surprised to see you alive, I’ve not seen you at work for a few days,” Leah said, crossing her arms as if trying to avoid accidentally touching something poisonous. “People at work were starting to take bets on what was wrong. Vi suggested you contracted that awful bug that has been going around. Ben suggested you got annoyed with old Mole Face and went back to England”—the thought had actually crossed my mind, but not because of that awful supervisor we had; Mr Garcia—”I suggested you’d been murdered and your body was decomposing in your flat as we speak. Naturally I was the one who had to go and check.”
“Not far off the truth,” I muttered under my breath as I nervously wrapped the blanket around me again.
Like the blanket will protect me! I thought to myself.
“What?” Leah asked, not hearing me properly. Not that I intended for her to hear.
“Nothing, I’m fine, I just… I need some time to myself,” I explained.
Leah’s lovely brown eyebrows rose. “You mean… you’ve been skipping work because you needed time to yourself?”
I hated Leah’s eyebrows. Well, I hated Leah’s beauty. Well, not hated her; envied her. She was beautiful without even trying. I was pale, thin, with boring limp brown hair. Leah had curves in all the right places, a lovely brown face that made you think she was constantly going on exotic holidays, and had full luscious dark brown hair. Her eyebrows even looked perfectly shaped. I envied her.
“No, I mean… I’m not feeling well and I was keeping to myself.”
“You don’t look ill,” Leah said. “I mean, yeah, you look a little… off, but not ill. What’s going on, Jo?”
I sighed. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to tell Leah my problem. It’s not like she could help me. Not that I was sure I should tell her. It was a delicate situation.
“Seriously, girl!” Leah said, when I didn’t speak.
She plopping herself on the sofa next to me. This time the sofa groaned. I wondered for a moment if it was going to break under the both of us. Not that I was really concerned about it. Normally I would have been concerned, I would have worried that my landlord would have murdered me, considering it was her sofa, not mine. But even joking about it in my head didn’t seem funny anymore. Not when I had someone after me that was actually capable of murdering me.
“What’s going on?”
I shook my head and felt my eyes well up with tears involuntary. I hated it when I did that. I didn’t like to seem like I was doing it deliberately, asking for attention. I wasn’t. I didn’t want to cry in front of Leah.
“Jo, talk to me!” Leah demanded, looking extremely nervous suddenly.
“He’s dangerous,” I muttered, not really thinking about what I was saying as I was concentrating desperately on trying to hold back a sob.
“What?”
“He’s dangerous. He’s—” I paused, wondering maybe I shouldn’t say what I was about to say? It might scare Leah.
“What? Who? Jo, you’re not making any sense,” her voice went flat in worry. Probably more worried for my own sanity than the prospect of a dangerous person after me.
“I know, I’m sorry, I don’t want to scare you.”
“Scare me?”
“It’s okay, forget it.”
“No, tell me, what’s going on?” Leah asked, touching my arm. Her face dropped suddenly before she said, “Is this about… a guy?”
I nodded. I could nod, that was easy enough.
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you,” I choked.
“Okay, why is a guy causing you to skip work?”
“Because I think he wants to kill me,” I said, feeling a little panicky. “If I step outside that door, he will find me and he’ll kill me.”
Leah’s face paled. “So, you’re telling me your life is in danger?”
I nodded ferociously. “Yes, I’m telling you; the guy is dangerous. He’s… he’s a psychopath and he has a weird obsession with me.”
“Who though, Jo?” Leah pressed.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not? Do I know him?”
“Yes.”
I saw Leah’s face pale even more. “Jo,” she started to whisper, “how am I going to help you if you won’t tell me who it is?”
I opened my mouth to say something, say anything, I wasn’t sure if I was going to explain everything or not, but I was interrupted; another knock pounded at the door. Leah and I both jumped and looked round.
“I know you’re in there! Open the door!” said a very angry male voice.
I knew who it was. I recognised the voice. I panicked. I had just realised I had forgotten to lock the door behind Leah. He could get in.
~~~
Click here to read the next chapter!
If you liked this story, please check out my other works!
Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue
New Story idea! – Butterfly House
If you’re interested in buying the book, here’s the links:
Buy e-book
buy paperback
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February 6, 2020
Rose Garden Sanatorium – Chapter 6
Note: If you’re new to the story please read from the beginning here.
Chapter 6
Henry Blackburn
The sound of Highway to Hell from AC/DC filled the air, filling out into the garage and which was loud enough to hear from the office. It was still quite early so not everyone had arrived yet, but there was just the one person there to appreciate the classic music; the owner of Blackburn Garage.
A man with mousy brown hair, mid-thirties, an unshaven face, navy overalls that looked overused with the patchwork of oil, dirt and rust marks, stared out through the window into his workshop, mouth agape as he was mid-yawn.
He was wondering about when his delivery would arrive. He had gotten to work early that morning, much to the dismay of his wife, to attempt to finish a customer’s car. It was a lovely Mercedes-Benz C220 AMG in a deep blue and he had already delayed the customer as he found the front brake-pads had to be replaced—someone loved their breaks! The customer was quite okay with it, being appreciative that he had checked, but Henry wanted to get there early to make a start anyway.
Blackburn Garage was well known in London, it came highly recommended and specialised in German cars as the owner was a big fan of them. A lot of Audi, BMW and Mercedes drivers preferred to go to Blackburn Garage, it was cheaper than going to the dealership and it was actually guaranteed not to get ripped off. Even if you sold the car, local people would prefer to buy a car that had been serviced at Blackburn Garage over the dealership. Of course, they got a lot of other cars; Fords, Jaguars, Toyotas, Hondas, they even had a lovely 1967 Chevrolet Impala once, a local guy had moved over from the States and brought a few from his collection over from America.
Henry Blackburn loved his business. Ever since he was a small boy, he loved cars and loved learning how they worked. He was adamant from a young age he wanted to be a mechanic. Dreaming of owning his own company, hiring staff, ordering tools, having a large house and his own private collection of interesting cars, teaching his own son mechanics. He spent ages one night looking through a catalogue of tools with his brother listing out all the tools he would get.
Part of his dream came true, he now owned his own business; Blackburn Garage, but he didn’t own any of the cars in it, they were all customer’s cars. He personally only owned two; his own E90 BMW M3—which he was sure the clutch was on its way out—and his wife’s Fiat 500 which he wouldn’t admit to her, but he hated. He also didn’t have a son, he didn’t have any children, mostly because his wife decided she didn’t want children and he was talked out of the idea of having them too, made to think it was his idea. Although a part of him felt he was missing out. But she was right, it wasn’t a good idea bringing children into this world.
Henry’s daydream of the time before was broken when he heard his mobile phone go off, he dug it out of his overall’s pocket, ignoring the large crack on the screen and opened the message. It was his younger brother, who had no concept of time, and laughed at the childish and crude picture he had decided to forward to him. He sent a quick reply back before pocketing his phone and remembered he was making a cup of coffee.
Henry’s brother, Dean, had gone a completely separate way to him. Dean wasn’t really interested in cars and mechanics like Henry. In fact, Henry couldn’t really remember Dean being enthusiastic about much when he was young. He had a troubled life, struggling to fit in. Both the boys had been home-schooled, their family deciding it was for the best. This didn’t really bother Henry, he easily made friends, always outgoing and bubbly, but Dean wasn’t so lucky. Although Dean seemed to have figured out his calling in the end.
Henry finished making his strong cup of coffee; a dark mess in a questionable hygienic mug with a Ford Capri on the side and headed back into his workshop. He placed the coffee on top of his big black toolbox and got back to taking the wheel off the deep blue Mercedes.
~~~
Click here to read the next chapter
If you liked this story, please check out my other works!
New Story Idea – “I fell in Love with a Psychopath”
New Story idea! – Butterfly House
Check out these other posts about Rose Garden Sanatorium!
New Full Book Trailer! For Rose Garden Sanatorium
Rose Garden Sanatorium Top 10 in the Cryptic Awards 2018!
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January 27, 2020
Why “The Girl Who Whispered”?
Hello, my little demons! 
September 7, 2019
Ender’s Love – Chapter 2
Hello, my little Demons! I posted Chapter 1 to Ender’s Love a while ago now and I feel you’ve been waiting long enough for Chapter 2!
Click here to read Chapter 1 if you haven’t read it already
Please remember I own this story, I wrote it and will be publishing in due time. If you’d like copy any part or whole, please ask first. Thank you. If you’d like to link this blog post to your own blog, website, etc, you are welcome to.
Note: May contain strong language!
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Chapter 2
I sat trying to busy my hands and focus my attention on my laptop. That was most important to me. So what if I just royally embarrassed myself? It was a moment, it would pass, I’d walk out of this bar and that guy would never see me again. My laptop, however, had all of my university work on it and I had not yet had chance to back it up.
But as soon as I took the laptop out of my bag, cursing slightly as I saw the wetness had unfortunately seeped through slightly, a figure loomed over me. I jumped slightly and turned around. But my face went bright red as soon as I saw that handsome man was standing there waiting for me to see him.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, when I noticed him. His voice was deep, it matched his masculine features perfectly.
Panic swelled in my chest as I stared at his stupidly handsome face. I noticed for the first time he was actually wearing a suit. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now he was in front of me I could see he was wearing suit trousers, a plain white shirt and a deep navy tie hung undone around his neck. I also noticed he was actually a little big around the arms. I gulped.
“Sorry?” I asked, having to put the laptop down as it was a little too heavy holding it up in the air.
“The drink, why did you give me one?” he asked again, scanning my face. I noticed now that he had beautiful green eyes.
I shrugged. “I didn’t have any change and needed to boost up the bill to over five pounds so I could pay for it,” I explained.
He frowned at me and went to open his mouth to say something else when panic coursed through me and I cut across what he was about to say.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude! I just saw you drinking whisky or something and it was nearly empty. You looked like you needed one, you were frowning at your work laptop like someone had just given you bad news. I didn’t really want to drink another one. One is enough for me. I’m not a huge drinker. So, I figured you could do with it more than me. Don’t feel like you have to drink it, I won’t be offended,” I blurted.
As soon as I stopped talking, the guy rose his eyebrows at me. So much for approaching men first. I should have started with someone else, rather than a guy who looked busy, as well as handsome. I had clearly jumped in the deep end without learning to swim first.
“I’m sorry, I don’t normally do that sort of thing!” I continued nervously. “Normally I’m quite considerate of people being busy and I leave them alone. Clearly I’m having an off day today!” I gave a small nervous laugh.
The guy suddenly snorted in amusement but then turned on his heel and walked off back the bar.
I stared at him in amazement, suddenly annoyed at his attitude. He just walked away?
I shook my head and looked back round at my laptop. I realised he wasn’t worth getting annoyed about, I did a nice thing. Yeah okay, it might not have been the best thing I should have done. I wasn’t very good with this sort of thing. Guys like that were usually popular and I always imagined there was a way to speak to them, a code of conduct around the stupidly handsome men or something. Unlike me; there was no code to speak to me. I was usually friendly with anyone.
But as soon as I turned back around and put my laptop on the table in front of me, a shadow loomed over me again. I looked up and the guy was back. But he was standing next to the seat in front of me, leaning on it slightly. Anger welled up inside me.
“Look, I said I’m sorry, I—”
“Oh no, you don’t need to apologise! I was just shocked that’s all. I’ve never had some random chick buy me a drink before without actually wanting something in return.”
I felt my cheeks go warm at what he said, I suddenly had an image in my head of a beautiful woman going up to him and wanting sexual favours after buying him a drink. I noticed at this point he had brought the glass of whisky with him and was holding it in his hand.
“I’m not after anything from you,” I said. I wanted to say I wasn’t like those women; trying to just sleep with the hottest guy at the bar.
“I figured,” he said, giving me a small nod and then taking a sip of the whisky. I noticed for the first time that his accent wasn’t Scottish, he was actually English like me. “I also have to thank you for introducing me to Dalwhinnie, I’ve never tried it before. Good choice not to have ice too.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, curious to know why he was being so nice to me. Or was he just being polite?
He suddenly shifted his weight and I saw a small twinge of pain run through his face.
“Are you okay?” I asked. He frowned at me, so I added; “You look like you’re in pain or something.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing, just a bit of a bad back.”
“Lower back?” I asked as I turned back around to my laptop bag and dug my hands into it.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“You look like a business man, my guess is you sit around on a laptop or computer all day in an office and you probably sit in one of those cheap seats with poor lumbar support,” I said as I managed to find what I was looking for, it was a heat patch. “Here, take this.”
The guy looked at what was in my hands and then looked up at me curiously like I had just offered him a smelly sock, before taking his left hand out of his pocket and taking the clearly soggy box. I scanned his hand again out of habit, noticing there certainly was no wedding ring on his finger, not even a white mark where one might have been.
“Thanks,” he said, although sounding a little hesitant.
“Keep the box, there’s only one left.” I smiled. “Sorry it’s a little wet, my laptop bag clearly isn’t waterproof! But the heat patch will still work.”
I was expecting him to just wander off at this point, I didn’t expect him to stand around, especially if he had a bad back. But to my shock he actually sat down, placing the whisky on the table between us and looked right into my eyes. I gulped again.
“Is your laptop wet?” he asked looking from me and down at my laptop.
“Err… yeah, a little.”
“Do you want me to have a look at it?”
“Oh no, it’s fine. I’m just going to clean up most of the water and let it dry out. If it’s too wet I’ll just take it home and take it apart, make sure no water got onto the motherboard and hard-drive.”
His eyebrows rose suddenly again and looked impressed. I felt a small smile creep involuntary on my face.
“You know computers?” he asked.
I nodded. “A little.”
I felt a little warm suddenly, although I was sure it was because I was still sat in my leather jacket, but it could have also been the gorgeous man talking to me and looking quite at peace. Either way, I decided to take off my jacket before I started to sweat and smell.
“You know you can void the warranty if you take it apart?” he asked as he took another sip of the Dalwhinnie and eyed me taking my jacket off.
I smiled, hoping he hadn’t noticed that I was extremely nervous around him, especially after seeing him eye me curiously. “I think I voided the warranty a long time ago, after my hard-drive decided to fail on me and I had to replace it.”
“You’re full of surprises.” He smiled at me and suddenly leaned his arms on the table.
I smiled back and nervously took the glass of whisky that was sitting next to my hand and took a large sip. I felt like I needed to have a bit of alcohol in me to calm my nerves.
“So, do you know anything about these heat patches?” he asked, before I had chance to say something myself.
“Sorry?” I asked, trying desperately not to cough as I had accidentally a large sip of the Dalwhinnie and it had decided to catch the back of my throat with its harshness.
“The heat patch,” he said, holding it up in his large masculine hand. “I’ve never used one before.”
“Oh!” I said and let out a small laugh. “It’s easy, the instructions are on the box, but you basically just strip back the plastic protection and place it on the area where it’s sore. It should peel off easily afterwards.”
“You say that, but knowing me I’ll end up messing it up,” he said, leaning back as he pulled out the remaining heat patch from the soggy box.
I laughed. “You sound like me. Put me in a room with a computer and tell me to get on with analysing data and running statistics and I could do it with my eyes closed, but any simple instructions like that and I’m useless. If someone was to give me instructions on how to make porridge I’d still find a way to fuck it up.”
He laughed. “I’m curious to know how you can fuck up porridge?”
I felt the heat rise to my face when I heard him laugh and curse, it was a huge turn on for some reason. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, with me. Once I had the heat up too high and it burnt to the bottom of the pan, I had to throw it away.”
“The porridge?”
“The pan with the burnt porridge in it.”
He nodded and he studied me. I just tried to smile and act normal around him.
“Did you want anything for it?” he said suddenly.
“Sorry?”
“You’ve given me your last heat patch, did you want me to give you some money for it, or maybe buy you another drink?”
“Oh, no.” I smiled and shook my head. “Don’t worry about it, I have more heat patches at home and I shouldn’t really drink any more than the one glass of whisky.”
He nodded. “Well, I had better go put this on.”
“Did you, err… want a hand?”
He raised an eyebrow at me and smiled, it sent a shiver down my spine. “I think I’ll be okay.” He winked.
I inhaled suddenly and coughed as if trying to cover up the fact he had a strange impact on me. “Sure, just let me know if you change your mind, they’re a little tricky to put on your back.”
“Sure,” he said, and then stood up from the booth. “Thanks again.”
“It’s not a problem.” I smiled up at him.
He stood there for a few short seconds as if he had something else to say, but he clearly thought better of it and turned around, walking back to his laptop at the bar with his glass of Dalwhinnie I had bought him and muttered something to the barman. The barman just nodded while he was drying glasses, and the handsome man then vanished into the toilets, leaving the glass of Dalwhinnie down next to the closed laptop. I sighed and looked back at my own laptop while trying to calm my shaking hands.
I did it; I had spoken to a guy first and managed to survive. I blew out my cheeks as I took out the paper towels and started to clean up my laptop. Although absentmindedly, as all I could think about what that guy trying to apply that heat patch to his back, wondering what his body was like underneath that white shirt.
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If you liked this chapter, please do give it a like. It’ll help me out a lot.
Here are some links to my other works:
My Normal – A Short Story by Penny Hooper
Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue
No one likes you! – A short story.
New Story Idea – “I fell in Love with a Psychopath”
It’s My Mistake – Chapter 1 – UPDATED
Here are some other blog posts you might be interested in:
Both my books are currently 99c!
Best places to visit in South Lanarkshire
Living in Australia – Part 1: Breakup from hell and Brisvegas
My Brother’s in Thailand, Blogging!
The HALO Trust: Safe Steps – Challenge Complete!
I won! I came first in the Earnesty Writer’s Awards 2018 Paranormal Genre!
Catching out a Catfisher (Fake profile)!
September 2, 2019
My Brother’s in Thailand, Blogging!
Hello my little Demons (it’s a new thing I’ve started, just roll with it…)
So, I was thinking about writing another blog post today, and I was wondering what to write about, Part 2 on my Australia blog? Finish my RAF blog posts? Blog about my books? Write a book review? Or maybe another chapter of one of my books?
But then I realised I should probably give my brother a helping hand. He’s recently set up a blog himself, a travel blog (he’s the reason why I decided to start a Travel Blog section myself) and I know how difficult it is to get traffic through on a website/blog/etc so this is a shout out to my brother!
Here’s the link to his blog:
Currently he’s blogged about best places to see in Krabi, religious sites, hidden gems and the best time of year to go, and I’m looking forward to seeing more soon!
He also has a Facebook page and an instagram account, both updating on blog posts and posting pictures of Thailand (I’m not jealous, honest!)
We both have a love of travelling, having been to Thailand a number of times with our parents, and my brother having going back a few times since we’ve outgrown our family holidays.
He has since met a lovely girl out there and has decided to move there!
Krabi is a beautiful area of Thailand. I’ve been to a few places in Thailand; Bangkok, Phuket, Pattaya, and Krabi was definately the prettiest I’ve been too. I mean, just look at this photo (my brother’s photo):
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Also, if you’re in the area (Ao Nang, Krabi), check out the N-Joy Bar, it’s owned by my brother’s friends and currently managed by his girlfriend Khai, who also has a coffee shop just outside called “Khai’s Coffee”.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/category/Cocktail-Bar/N-Joy-bar-662038240879513/
I’m looking forward to the day I can afford to go back out and visit my brother and Thailand again!
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Please don’t forget to check out my social media, website and other blog posts!
Instagram: thegirlwhowhispered_author
Instagram: thegirlwhowhispered_photo
Blog posts:
Living in Australia – Part 1: Breakup from hell and Brisvegas
Both my books are currently 99c!
Best places to visit in South Lanarkshire
My RAF Cranwell experience – It’s beginning!
The HALO Trust: Safe Steps – Challenge Complete!
August 27, 2019
Living in Australia – Part 1: Breakup from hell and Brisvegas
Back in 2009, when I had only just turned 21, I decided to do something big. Something I had never done before… I went to Australia on a Working Holiday Visa. Sun, sea and surfing (well, I probably won’t be doing the surfing bit!)
But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows… I went with an ex boyfriend, who made my life hell, had a falling out with my family out there and suffered with mental health issues.
The journey there was awful, 25 hours flying, leaving on the 4th of December 2009. I was lucky that the flights were cheap, even though it was a few weeks before Christmas, it was too early for people to be flying out to see family for the holidays. I had a layover at Singapore, but not long enough to escape the airport, and a connecting flight from Melbourne to Brisbane, where I will be staying with family in Burpengary.
I stayed with an Aunt and her husband, and for a little bit of my stay I was in the company of my step-cousin and a couple of his friends. And of course, my ex, but that quickly turned nasty just before Christmas. In fact, I had a falling out with my Aunt and her husband and ended up moving in with a Australian family.
My Aunt lived in a town called Burpengary, just North of Brisbane City, in the state of Queensland. It wasn’t a bad place to live, quiet, local amenities, a train station to get into Brisbane. Although it got boring pretty quickly.
The Ex
Day three (7th Dec) into to the year (hopefully) spending in Australia, my ex decided he was going to spend a good chunk of his money on a bike. Now, my ex was a bike enthusiast, although I didn’t share his enthusiasm, but I do like my cars, so I appreciated his enthusiasm and supported his dream to buy a bike.
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Even if it was day three.
And the majority of his money was going on this bike.
And I had to spend my own money helping him out with other things, like new clothes for work (we’ll get to that).
Day Five (9th Dec). My ex got a job (well, he at least went for a job interview). We hadn’t even been in Australia a week and he was getting work! I mean, it was good that he was proactive at getting a job, but this became un-fun very quickly. I was hoping to explore and experience Australia for at least a little bit first. He had other ideas. And it was equally painful when I had to help my ex buy clothes for his new job! New shirts, trousers, even new shoes. The little bit of money I had saved up before getting to Australia was getting smaller.
Day Seven (11th Dec). My ex was sending the bike off to get repaired. Yeah, he bought a new bike… which needs repairs. Even more money being spent.
Now, this is where it gets interesting…
I don’t know what day it was exactly, but it was between Day 13 (17th Dec) and Day 20 (24th Dec – Christmas Eve!) that I decided to throw my ex’s things on the front lawn. I’ve told this story to a few people, and it’s still a really interesting story to tell. But basically, I had been feeling low for a while, I felt like no one cared and no one really understood me, not even the boyfriend. On top of it (which I now realised as I didn’t at the time) he was gaslighting me, making me feel like I was the paranoid one, when he clearly was seeing other women.
He wasn’t really being secretive about it either, he was obviously talking to other women, on this dating site “Plenty of fish”, but he made me think he was only looking for ‘friends’. The website had the option to look for friendships, to tell other people you were in a relationship. I had seen his profile, it did say he was just looking for friends, but no where did it say he was in a relationship.
I joined him on it, as I was naive (yet suspicious, I wasn’t completely stupid) and I did meet a few people on there, it was through this website that I met the friend I eventually went to stay with after an issue with my Aunt and Uncle. But, the general feel of the website was for relationships and hookups.
But one day, when it got to the point that I had to look through his history on his laptop (I know, cliche psycho girlfriend thing to do! But I needed a reason!) and I found exactly what he was doing, and decided I had enough. Long story short, I tried to contact him at work and he refused to talk to me, so I decided that if he wasn’t going to talk to me, I was going to put his things outside.
I did. But he didn’t make it easy for me. He literally got so angry that he threatened mine and my Aunt’s life. It was just us two at the time, my Uncle was out at work and my step-cousin and his friends had gone off on an adventure somewhere.
Needless to say I was scared. My aunt and I locked doors and windows, closed curtains, all after shoving his things onto the lawn. We threatened him with the police, after he was being abusive, and the funniest thing was, when he came round with a truck to get his things, moments before, a police traffic patrol car came and sat right outside the house as if karma was on our side. He had no idea that we never called them, and he parked up and walked straight up to them. I wonder sometimes how things would have gone if the police weren’t there.
That wasn’t the last time I heard from him. The break had a huge affect on me, I was still quite young, having only had my 21st birthday (which was pretty shit, but that’s another story), so I was still in touch with him. I can’t remember the order, but I remember a few things happening around Christmas with him. One thing I remember was that I had his friend (who I knew too) ask me why I was being a bitch and bribing him, holding his passport and refusing to give it back to him until I got the money he owed me – I had no idea I still had his passport, all of this was made up, it’s scary how easy it was for him to lie to people, not just me. Although I was asking him for the money he owed me, not only the money from which I paid for his clothes, but I also paid for our travel insurance, he owed me for that too. I also remember him messaging me on New Years drunk and sending some really creepy messages, and I think it was from then on that I decided to cut all contant.
But, moving on, I still managed to see a few places while I was there, throughout my whole stay I saw Brisbane City Centre, Gold Coast / Surfer’s Paradise, Australia Zoo, Glasshouse Mountains, Stradbroke Island, Noosa, Moranbah and even took a trip to Sydney.
Brisbane City Centre
I visisted Brisbane City Centre in the first week I was in Australia, my Aunt and Uncle had taken us in to show me about. It was a pretty interesting city, a bubbly business district mainly, but it had a few interesting things for torists to do. From the man-made beach, the markets and a casino (I heard it called Bris-vegas once, but thought it was funny as there was apparently only one casino at the time).
Although I wasn’t hugely impressed with it as a tourist destination. At the end of the day, it is just a business city. Large buildings, a river running through it. There wasn’t much to see once you’d seen the River, the few Museums (there was a Natural History Museum if I remember rightly), the beach and the casino. It was a place you’d go for just a day out. It was just like any other city, large buildings that people work in, shops that you get in other cities like Starbucks and H&M and yes as it’s a city you get the big brands like Chanel and Gucci. It didn’t really have anything different to other cities.
Although, I do remember going to a Dessert Restaurant with a friend once, a restaurant specifically for desserts. That was one thing that I liked about the place; if you wanted to go out for a decent night out, something different to the usual pub-grub meal, to a decent bar or restaurant maybe (I’m not a clubber myself), then yeah, Brisbane was a little up there.
I will admit, I didn’t really get the chance to explore Brisbane City. My view of the city was a quick stop tour, a hop on the CityCat across the river, walk through the markets and a few pubs/bars stops. I’d be interested to go back to actually see more of the place, do a bit more research, be a bit more adventurous, have a bit more money to spend in unique bars and restaurants.
But I know I wouldn’t be upset if I never went back, there are other places I’d be more interested in seeing first. And that includes places inside Australia.
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If you liked this post, please do press that like button and follow! I’ll be writing a few more travel blogs in the future! More adventures in Australia, Scotland, England, Egypt and hopefully other places when I get travelling again!
Click here to read my post on Best places to visit in South Lanarkshire
Also, please do check out my other posts, such as my written works:
Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue
Also, check out my other adventures:
My RAF Cranwell experience – It’s beginning!
August 24, 2019
Both my books are currently 99c!
Both of my books are currently 99c in e-book format on Smashwords!
The idea of putting them up for sale is to get more reviews and traffic through my sites. I don’t get a lot of profits from selling them so cheap, as Smashwords takes a good chunk, but it’s mostly to get my name out there.
And hopefully, when I finally get my other books finished (still waiting for free time around uni work and job searching!) I’ll have a fan-base already!
See below for links and synopsis for each e-book.[image error][image error]
Here is I fell in Love with a Psychopath:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893044
Here is It’s My Mistake:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/744287
Synopsis for I Fell in Love with a Psychopath:
What would you do if you realised the man you fell in love with had a psychopathic personality disorder?
After getting her degree in history, Jo took the plunge and moved to Chicago. But one day a guy changes her life completely. And not necessarily in a good way.
When she first moved to the city, Jo met Liam. She had a small crush on him from day one. Along with his good looks, he was funny and charming. Maybe a little immature, but he never failed to make her laugh. Finally, one day Liam asks Jo out on a date and she is stupidly nervous and surprised he even likes her!
Jo meets Xander in a bar. He is handsome and confident. He holds himself tall and constantly watches her reactions with mild curiosity. She keeps bumping into him, sometimes deliberately. He seems to say all the right things and do all the right things and she finds herself craving more of him.
The problem was, however, one of them is a psychopath and he now has an obsession with Jo…
Synopsis for It’s My Mistake:
Alice wants a career change, especially after a terrible incident at her last job. Her dream job has always been to work in a hotel, maybe even own one. But after messing up an interview very spectacularly for a vacancy at a well-known hotel chain in London, she wasn’t expecting to hold the attention of the Global Business Manager; Daniel Jeffries. And in more ways than one. Does Alice take the risk and accept Dan’s offer or does she play it safe?
Who knew that that interview day would be the day that changed Alice’s life? But is it for the better? Is this alluring Global Business Manager as amazing as he seems? And who is that mysterious yet amazingly handsome man at the hotel?
**Mature Content** Recommended for ages 18+ due to sexual situations and language.
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If you want to read a part of I Fell in Love with a Psychopath, read it here.
If you want to read a part of It’s My Mistake, read it here.
Here are some links to my other works you might like:
Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue
My Normal – A Short Story by Penny Hooper
Other blog links:
Best places to visit in South Lanarkshire
The HALO Trust: Safe Steps – Challenge Complete!
I won! I came first in the Earnesty Writer’s Awards 2018 Paranormal Genre!
August 18, 2019
Best places to visit in South Lanarkshire
I’ve had the lovely experience living in South Lanarkshire for a while, also recently having to move back to the area, and I figured I’d write about what the best places are in the area.
New Lanark
New Lanark is definately one of my favourites. A UNESCO World Heritage Site because of it’s 18th-century village built up around an old cotton mill and next to the River Clyde. Definately a lovely place to go if you’re a keen photographer.
If you’re a history buff too, or just generally like a day out, it’s not a bad site, not only can you walk around the area and soak up the buildings and the working old mill, but there is also a number of attractions to see, from the roof garden, Robert Owen’s School for children, Millworker’s House and Robert Owen’s House to name a few.
There is also a cafe and shop on site, the New Lanark Mill Shop. Although the cafe isn’t exactly the most comfortable, as it looks more functional than anything, it still does some half-decent hot foods, cold foods and drinks. During the summer months, they also have New Lanark Ice Cream in the usual flavours, but some not to usual, such as Irn Bru (I’d recommend!)
The shop is also large and has a variety of items being sold, of course there is a huge section dedicated to Wool and Textiles, but they also sell clothes, books, jewelry, home wear and foods!
New Lanark also has it’s own Hotel, the New Lanark Mill Hotel, if you’d like to stay in the area, which also has it’s own bar and restaurant. I’ve had the pleasure of both eating and drinking there, it has a beautiful bar area, although it can get busy during the summer months as it doesn’t have a lot of seating. And I can’t comment on the dining, as I went there for Christmas dinner one year, and unfortunately wasn’t that impressed, hopefully a typical evening meal would be more enjoyable.
But aside from the odd negatives, I still enjoy going back frequently.
(c) Photographs by Penny Hooper. No sharing/copying without permission.
Falls of Clyde
If you visit New Lanark, I’d also recommend the walk along the river to see the Falls of Clyde. Autumn is my favourite time of year to go, as the leaves on the trees are turning all types of beautiful colours and if you go just after a decent rain fall, the falls will be spectacular! Remember to charge up your camera!
It’s a bit of a walk, so it’s not ideal for those who aren’t very able-bodied, and there are a few steps. It can also get a little muddy in places, so I’d take some shoes you don’t mind getting a little dirty and take a decent coat with you just in case the weather turns. It is roughly about an hour and a half to Corra Linn and back.
There are four Linns in total. Corra Linn (Linn is Scottish Gaelic for Waterfall) is the tallest, and I’d recommend seeing this one at least. But you also have Bonnington Linn, Dundaff Linn (closest to New Lanark) and Stonebyres Linn (lower falls).
If you’re adventurous enough, like I am, I’d recommend walking all the way to the bridge/Weir (Bonnington Weir) and walk across the other side and along to the right, following the river. Here you can see Bonnington Linn. You can even walk as far as Corra Castle, although it’s not a huge castle, it is hidden away in the undergrowth (apparently home to some rare bats!)
If you’re even more adventurous than I am, the walk along the river can take you all the way into Glasgow! Have a look at the South Lanarkshire Council website for the maps: https://www.southlanarkshire.gov.uk/downloads/download/258/clyde_walkway
Alongside the Falls, if you’re an animal and/or nature fan, the Falls of Clyde have a Wildlife Reserve. They have regular evening badger watches, wildlife themed events and even interactive toys and games for children. For more information check out the Scottish Wildlife Trust website: https://scottishwildlifetrust.org.uk/reserve/falls-of-clyde/ They claim to have a Peregrine watch site a third of the way up, but I have a feeling there are no Peregrine Falcons nesting in the area anymore.
(c) Photographs by Penny Hooper. No sharing/copying without permission.
Biggar
Going the other way, towards the Scottish Borders, is a little town called Biggar (ironically). It’s a medival town built in 1451 and has a wealth of attractions for such a small town. The only downside I can personally comment, is unlike it’s cousins towns and villages in the Scottish Borders, it doesn’t have the beautiful backdrop of hills and mountains around it.
However, there are lots of things to do. From the world famous Victorian puppet theatre, Biggar & Upper Clydesdale Museum and Biggar Gasworks Museum (the only preserved gas works in Scotland).
Biggar is also home to a number of festivals and events, with the famous Biggar Little Festival which is held in October each year, which celebrates arts, dance, crafts, drama and literature. If you stay around until New Year, you may also catch the Hogmanay bonfire and torch-lit procession through the town. It also hosts argricultural shows and vintage car rallies.
Chatelherault Country Park
Going away from The Scottish Borders and past Lanark and New Lanark, closer to Glasgow is a town called Hamilton and just on the outskirts is Chaterherault Country Park.
A 18th century hunting lodge with 500 acres of countryside and woodland. In the summer it’s a great place to go with children, with picnic facilities and a large adventure play ground. Also a great place to go for dog walkers and adventurers alike.
The house and grounds are all free admission, which makes a great cheap day out, with a few of the rooms being open to the public to see, and a small museum inside of what life used to be like there. There is a Cafe inside and a Gift Shop and it is even a great place to hold a Wedding or Private Event.
The grounds offer many trails, the main reason why I go there, as the trails take you through a varity of walks, through woods, across/under bridges (i.e. The Duke’s Bridge) and along a river (River Avon). There is even a small castle ruins called Cadzow Castle (although the last time I saw it, the small castle was trapped within a maze of scaffolding!) and keep your eyes out for the Cadzow Cattle or White Park Cattle a rare breed of ancient horned cattle that live in a field right next to the lodge.
(c) Photographs by Penny Hooper. No sharing/copying without permission.
Bothwell Castle
On the other side of Hamilton, if Cadzow Castle wasn’t enough castle for you, there is 13th Century Bothwell Castle. Another cheap day out, at £3.00 each for an adult, £2.40 concession, £1.80 child (free for Children until 5) or if you’re a Young Scot Card Holder, it’s only £1.00!
There is a fair amount of Bothwell Castle still standing, but what is striking about the Castle is it’s reddish colour and the large tower (or donjon).
The land originally was owned by Walter of Moray who began the construction of the castle in the mid 1200s. But by the late 1200s, was the start of the Wars of Scottish Independence, and Bothwell was unfortunately in the line of fire.
There is a lot of history around Bothwell, more than a simple Blog post can explain, and which I will leave you guys to find out. But one last thing I will note is that Bothwell passed to the Black Douglases, which pops up again later in this blog post, so keep your eye out!
(c) Photographs by Penny Hooper. No sharing/copying without permission.
Douglas
Heading away from Glasgow and Hamilton, back past New Lanark, but the other side of the motorway from Biggar, is a little village called Douglas.
This is a little village hidden away, not many people know of, mainly because there aren’t many attractions here, yet it is steeped in history!
Douglas is where the Douglas family took their name, originally where the stronghold; Douglas Castle was built, as early as the 13th century. The original castle was destroyed and replaced a number of times, until the last building to stand on the site was a large 18th century mansion. Unfortunately this too was demolished in 1938 due to mining in the area, but a single 17th century corner tower still remains.
Douglas and Douglas Castle was also in the line of fire from the Wars of Scottish Independence in the early 1300s, having been captured by Lord Clifford, but Sir James Douglas, Robert the Bruce’s friend, recaptured his family seat. It was because of this, and the loyalty of the Douglases, Robert the Bruce rewarded the Douglases by creating the title Earl of Douglas.
For any literacy fans, like myself, the Castle itself was also where Walter Scott got his inspiration for his novel “Castle Dangerous”.
Although the remaining Castle tower is 17th century, this isn’t the oldest building in the village. St. Bride’s Church is 14th century and became the mausoleum of the Douglases. The church yard and a part of the old church is free to wander, to gain access inside you need prior arrangement.
There is a long story about Robert the Bruce, his heart and James Douglas, one that will require a seperate blog post, but a long story short, Robert the Bruce wished to go on a crusade, but Robert was unfortunately dying. He entrusted James Douglas to take his heart on a crusade. Douglas died in battle, his bones taken back to St. Bride’s Church and Bruce’s heart was eventually buried at Melrose Abbey (his body was buried in Dunfermline Abbey close to his wife’s).
There is a small museum (The Douglas Heritage Museum) which originally was St Sophia’s Chapel, located next to the church yard, but only opens at the weekends between 14:00 and 17:00 (although I am sure it’s usually during the summer months) or by special arrangement.
Douglas has a small claim to fame in recent years too, having been a site for filming of Agatha Christie’s Ordeal By Innocence. If you’re a fan of Agatha Christie, or have seen the series, you might recognise “The Cross Keys”, located on the High Street.
There are also lots of hidden places to walk around Douglas, up in the wooded hills around the area.
(c) Photographs by Penny Hooper. No sharing/copying without permission.
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Please check out my other blog posts:
The HALO Trust: Safe Steps – Challenge Complete!
New Full Book Trailer! For Rose Garden Sanatorium
I won! I came first in the Earnesty Writer’s Awards 2018 Paranormal Genre!
Rose Garden Sanatorium – Prologue
August 16, 2019
Ender’s Love – Chapter 1
Alongside my studies, I’ve also been trying to edit this story to get it published.
I know I’ve been working on my story ‘Rose Garden Sanatorium’ for a while, but I have decided to get that professionally edited – and I can’t do that with no money, so that is being put on hold… again.
But I decided to focus my spare time on getting Ender’s Love published instead. Here’s a sneak peak at what to expect.
If you are a user of WattPad, you might have come across it there! If not, check it out! It’s a great way to get your work out if you’re an author, and a great place to read lots of free written works!
https://www.wattpad.com/505747831-ender%27s-love-%7E-completed-%7E-editing-chapter-1
Warning: Strong language!
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Chapter 1
“Oh, for fuck sake!” I grumbled, as a passing car drove through a puddle and splashed me. I looked down at myself, just as a fellow walker on the path shot me a disgusted look. Probably at my language. I didn’t care. I was instantly hurdled into a bad mood. But I was glad to see I wasn’t that wet; the water had mostly got my boots and—
“Shit!” I exclaimed. The reason I was mostly spared from the dirty puddle water was because the majority had splashed on my laptop bag. I had been carrying it in my hand as it had moments ago been hurting my shoulder. But I didn’t hold much hope that the bag was waterproof.
I wiped it down as much as I could with my bare hands and hoped and prayed to a God that I wasn’t even sure I believed in that the laptop tucked safely inside hadn’t gotten wet itself.
I sighed and looked up to see a bar just a few feet away, right next to a rather lovely Mediterranean restaurant with a few bamboo plants outside. I made a mental note to check it out one day. The bar itself was just as elegant—just lacking the plant-life—with a lovely bold black and red sign which read; Da Vinci’s, which looked quite new. I huffed and decided to go get a well-deserved drink and check my laptop was still working.
The door was a little too heavy, but I tried not to show how heavy I found it. I didn’t want any men to think I was weak and could take advantage. I then trudged up to the bar confidently. Fake it ‘til you make it, I had heard once. It was my new motto in life.
“Excuse me,” I said to the barman. He was quite a good-looking guy, with dark brown hair, a small stubble of a beard, and wearing a white shirt, black trousers with a black waist-coat. Although a little too young for me, so I tried my hardest not to smile or stare too much and give him the wrong impression. I had a habit of attracting men who got the wrong impression.
But just as he moved to wander over to me, I saw a guy behind him that instantly caught my attention. He was handsome. Very handsome. Much more my type. Although, he was undoubtedly way out of my league. His black raven hair short and slightly standing up, a little ruffled as if he’d run his hands through it in frustration, a strong masculine hand resting on his handsome clean-shaven jaw, propping himself up as his elbow rested on the bar top. He appeared to be frowning at the laptop in front of him.
It suddenly felt a lot warmer in this bar than the first two seconds of walking in.
My attention went straight to his hand. It was a habit I had started doing lately. I was looking for a wedding ring. Nothing. That didn’t mean he was single though. Not that he’d ever be interested in me.
“Hi doll,” replied the barman, breaking my attention away from the devilish handsome man behind him. I was trying to will him to look up at me; I hoped if he looked up, I’d might be able to find out if he found me even slightly attractive or not. Maybe find that strange spark I hear about in films and romance books. I had a short-lived dream that our eyes would meet across the bar and an instant spark come between us, my world slowing down as he came over to introduce himself. But he was too engrossed in his laptop to even notice me.
“Hi,” I said, smiling at the barman suddenly, feeling my voice getting a little louder as if I subconsciously wanted to attract the attention of the other guy, but being as nice as possible to the barman, so if he did look up, he’d see I was friendly at least. Although, deep down, I hoped the barman hadn’t caught me goggling at his only other customer in his bar.
“I, err—” I’d suddenly forgotten what I was going to ask for. My mind drew a blank.
Wet laptop, that was right!
“Do you have any paper towels? Some inconsiderate buggar just drove through a large puddle and got me wet.” I felt myself flush at my own comment. I had too many male friends who would have heard that comment and found a hidden sexual innuendo in it. I just hoped neither men at the bar; the one behind the bar and the stupidly handsome one still staring intently at his laptop with his frown creating a rather curious line on his forehead, would have noticed.
I had also noticed with a slight twinge of embarrassment that my voice not only was a little too loud, but my stupidly southern English accent had accentuated the way I said buggar.
“Oh, damn,” said the barman, looking genuinely remorseful. “Sure, let me get you some!” He suddenly took two steps away and drew out some green paper towels before he brought them over to me. I just tried to keep my eyes on him and not the guy behind him who was now typing away at something with an indifferent look on his face.
“You know, you can always use the hand-dryers in the ladies,” the barman continued, after passing me the towels, “my girlfriend is always spilling drinks on herself, she says using the hand-dryers is better.”
I mentally found myself sighing in relief at the thought of this guy already having a girlfriend—although hoping it wasn’t too evident on my face. An ex-boyfriend had once told me my face was expressive. He didn’t mean it in a nice way either. At least there was less chance of the barman trying to hit on me; the one man in the bar I didn’t want to hit on me.
Although, a small part of me wanted to challenge myself to that unspoken agreement I had with myself only a few days ago. I had told myself that it shouldn’t be up to the men to make the first move. Women should make the first move. More importantly, I should make the first move.
“Oh, thanks, but it’s for my laptop, not me.” I smiled, but I suddenly felt myself blush, as the handsome man staring at his laptop suddenly looked up. Our eyes met only briefly as he took a sip of a drink that looked a lot like whiskey. His eyes were back down on the laptop in mere milliseconds. It was over so quickly that I could have just imagined it. I didn’t even manage to get what colour they were.
I suddenly felt deflated. He didn’t even smile at me. His eyes didn’t even linger enough to suggest he was attracted. There was no Hollywood spark. Nothing. Well, there goes the idea that he might even be in to me.
“Oh, sure!” the barman smiled. I looked back at him, trying to keep my eyes fixed on this man instead, as well as trying to keep my face straight and not frown in my disappointment. He didn’t seem to have noticed, and he certainly didn’t seem interested in hearing my story about how my laptop got wet. “Do you want a drink?”
“Yeah, might as well!” I nodded and sighed, feeling tired and sore now that I thought about it. Well, I had just trudged from university with my laptop over my shoulder, heading towards my bus stop before I got splashed. “Do you have Dalwhinnie?” I asked, feeling a little defiant and wanting to drink something that might impress. I didn’t want either of the men thinking I was just a silly woman who also was a bit accident prone. Although, I didn’t really want a glass of Dalwhinnie, I actually just fancied a glass of coke. I felt a little thirsty after trudging out of my class and carrying around my laptop everywhere. A glass of whisky wasn’t going to quench that thirst. But I had somehow convinced myself whisky was the better choice in my situation.
I noticed the barman lifted a curious eyebrow at me and I felt a small inward triumph. Although for a split second, doubt creeped through me that that eyebrow signalled something other than being impressed. “Of course. You want a glass of that?”
“Please.” I nodded and smiled sweetly as I started to unzip my leather jacket and loosen my small black scarf around my neck. It wasn’t that cold outside. It was spring. Nearly summer. But it was the Scottish weather; it was a little cold for me. I preferred warmer weather.
“Ice?” the barman asked as he wandered over to the glasses and picked up a glass very similar to what the handsome man had. I noticed then that the handsome man was looking up at me again and I felt my cheeks flush again. My hopes skyrocketed, but my self-doubts kept them from going too high.
I just gave him a raised eyebrow and smiled at him before deliberately cutting off the eye contact myself this time and looked back at the barman, who I playfully frowned at and said, “And risk diluting it with water? No, thanks.”
The barman looked up at me curiously again but smiled when he noticed I was smiling at him. He nodded. “Good point. That’s three-ninety, please.”
After the barman placed the whisky on the bar top, I shifted my laptop shoulder strap over my shoulder and reached into my pocket of my leather jacket, bringing out my bank card to pay for it. “Thanks,” I muttered politely and was about to hand him my card when he spoke, and I stopped in my tracks.
“We only accept payments over five-pound, love, sorry.”
“Oh!” I felt panic rise in me. I felt instantly stupid. I should have asked that they take card first. As soon as my face fell into sheer shock, I noticed the handsome man was back to looking at me again, a small wicked smile on his face. I felt a little small compared to him as if he was mocking me. But I suddenly had a brilliant idea. “In that case, make it two Dalwhinnies.” I smiled triumphantly.
The barman raised his eyebrow at me again but held a strange frown on his face. This time I was sure he wasn’t impressed. Maybe he was worried I was going to get too drunk and needed to be escorted out of the bar. But I wasn’t going to explain and ruin the idea I had.
He seemed to reluctantly make me another Dalwhinnie and placed it on the bar top while watching my face curiously. It was as if he was waiting for the answer to appear on my forehead. But he finally passed me the card reader so I could pay for the drinks. I was grateful to pick up the two glasses, the paper towels shoved into my jacket pocket carelessly and walk passed the bar towards the back of the room.
I had deliberately aimed for the large booths at the back. There were three large booths with large built in seats. The deep red leather looked inviting and comfortable. Plus, more importantly, it meant having to walk passed that exceptionally handsome customer at the bar.
As I walked past him, smelling a wonderful masculine yet probably expensive fragrance, I stopped and placed one of the Dalwhinnies next to his hand. “That one’s for you,” I said, with the sweetest smile I could muster. He looked round at me in surprise, just as I caught a glimpse of an email account open on his laptop with what looked like a lot of unread business emails. But he frowned as if I had just invaded his personal space and I added quickly: “With that frown on your face earlier, you look like you need one just as much as me.”
I then wandered off while taking a sip of my own glass, without even waiting for him to say anything. I was sure I could feel his eyes staring at the back of my head in amazement. I didn’t want to give him chance to brush me off; I wanted him to know that I was just being polite and friendly, not coming onto him. I imagined a lot of women hitting on him, being as handsome as he was, and that was the last thing he wanted if he was busy with work stuff. But at the same time, I wanted him to take notice of me and not as the silly girl who didn’t carry change around with her.
It’s not like I was expecting him to be interested, I just wanted to feel a little in control. I knew a guy like that wouldn’t be interested in me. I was short, looked young for my age and always seemed to look like I was scowling at everyone. I didn’t even think I was that attractive. Not like most of the girls I’d seen in bars. Plus, guys seemed to like the girls with thick make-up and blonde hair. My hair was a dark shade of red—natural of course—one side would flick out while the other flicked in, and if it was too wet outside it would go frizzy. I had stopped dying or bleaching my hair a long time ago, realising that I should just love who I was, my unruly red hair, stupid button nose and all. I was a bit of a rocker-chick too, with my dark eye make-up and leather jacket, rather than a sweet girly-girl, and I was proud of that.
I had also made a promise to myself. After having terrible luck with men; having dated what seemed like only manipulative men or desperate men who just didn’t want to be alone. Then I had a deliberate two-year single spell. I realised that not only was I worth more than the low-life men I had dated in the past, but I wasn’t going to settle for a guy just for the hell of being in a relationship. I wanted a decent relationship. Hell, I wanted a best friend to spend my life with. If I couldn’t find that person, then I was happy enough just being single and making the most of life.
But in those two years, I had a lot of time to realise that I hadn’t really had chance to meet any decent men. I wasn’t sure why it was. Maybe it was because I was unattractive? Maybe it was because I looked too young? Maybe it was because I prefer to wear jeans and t-shirts instead of wearing a dress and getting uncomfortable and cold? I moved to Scotland, it was a little cooler than England. But I also thought that there was another possibility; after speaking to my male friends, a lot of them had admitted they don’t like to approach attractive women in fear of being rejected. So, somewhere in my head I decided that, why should it be men that approach women first? More importantly, why didn’t I approach men first? Rather than waiting for them to approach me? Not that I thought I was attractive! That was another problem; I was sure it was because I was unattractive that men didn’t approach me. But I was going to fake confidence and test it out.
That handsome guy at the bar; he was just a test to see if I could do it. Seems I could. Although, with a ridiculously fast beating heart, stupidly sweaty palms, the thoughts of doubt quickly creeped into my head as I settled into the seat.
Why did I just give a guy a glass of Dalwhinnie? What if he didn’t want it? What if he didn’t like Dalwhinnie? What if he thought I was stupid? Oh god!
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August 15, 2019
RAF Cranwell experience – part 2
If you haven’t read the first part yet and are interested in why I decided to apply for the RAF, you can read my first blog post here.
Part 2 – Long day travelling!
Before I explain the travel and the Aptitude/CBAT test, I first had an issue! And it’s lucky I decided to print off the email because I might not have noticed it.
The ACIO luckily booked my train tickets (I wish I had a car!), but when I checked… they’d booked the train for the wrong day!
I was due to have my Aptitude test on the 6th of August, but I had to get there the day before (the 5th), spend the night at Cranwell and get up really early for breakfast to start my test at 07:00.
Luckily it was sorted easy enough, and I was able to print off the email, I was due to travel at lunch time on the 5th.
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(Grantham Train Station. Picture copyrighted to Ashley Dace located: www.geograph.org.uk/photo/993204)
First I popped to my university library to print off the email with the train ticket confirmation, and I walked back to the bus stop to get straight into Swindon to get my train. I set off at approx. 10:30.
I got into Swindon early, mainly because I wanted to get a coffee in town first, but also to give myself enough time to get to the train station to get my tickets, not leaving it to the last minute. I got to Swindon Train Station at half 11 and collected my tickets.
My first train was delayed by a few minutes, which was typical. But luckily it wasn’t that late. I also luckily had seats pre-booked, thanks to ACIO Oxford for that! So I found my seat and settled in for a long trip to London Paddington.
The trip was pretty boring, but I was surprisingly relaxed about the trip. Although I wasn’t looking forward to the next part, which I had done a bit of research to make sure I did it right and wasn’t late for my connecting train!
But when I got to London Paddington, I had to get a Tube from Paddington to Kings Cross.
I got off at Paddington, without much drama, found the underground easily, and thanks to my prior research, I knew what line to get. Got on the tube, all paid for by the RAF, and unfortunately had to stand. This didn’t dampen my spirits though, even though I had a large backpack on my back.
But, after getting off the tube, at what I thought was Kings Cross, I got a little confused with where to get my connecting train to Grantham.
It took me a few minutes to realise I had got off the tube a little early and actually needed the next stop. Luckily I realised my mistake as I saw Kings Cross from the train station exit! So I just quickly crossed the road over to Kings Cross to find my next train. I already knew what platform I wanted, Platform 2, so I just stood and waited (while playing Pokemon Go, don’t judge!)
While standing there, I had one foreign man come up to me with broken English to ask me for help to locate his train (I just saw he needed platform 2 and said yes, this was the right platform). But then a few minutes later there was a small group looking completely lost, two ladies and two young girls that looked about 10. I overheard them talking about the train to Grantham and decided to speak up and say that was the train I was waiting for myself.
They looked pretty thankful, and appreciative of me, that they found their train, however a few minutes later a Kings Cross employee had explained that the train had been cancelled.
Great.
Myself and my new friends walked over to the information point to ask about another train to Grantham, all the while I was thinking “if there is no way of me getting to Grantham, I’m just going home!” But alas! There was another train service to Grantham at Platform 0.
So my new friends and I (trying to avoid weird conversations with one of the girls who was very chatty!) walked to Platform 0.
Unfortunately there was no seat reservation for me on this train, as it was supposed to be on the train that was cancelled, but there were plenty of spaces so it wasn’t a problem. But now I am tried and wishing I was just home. But I was still a little excited about my little adventure to Cranwell and the start of my RAF career. I’d remember this day in a few years time when I have finished my RAF training and off somewhere exciting for work!
The train took another hour or so to get to Grantham, and I felt thankful to be nearly there. I got off the train and went straight to the information desk to ask about the bus to Cranwell (I was told there is a free shuttle service to Cranwell). At first I didn’t understand where the bus was supposed to come from, so looked like an idiot walking up and down the front of the train station, but I decided to just go back inside and ask again.
Ah, wait just outside, the bus will come and stop just to the right of the front by the taxi rank. So, I waited.
And waited.
I was waiting for what felt like an hour. At this point I was done. I wanted to just get back on the train and go home.
But eventually a large white coach turned up and a load of people in suits started to walk to it. It was right by where I was told the Cranwell bus would stop, so I decided to just walk towards it myself and ask someone coming off it if it’s the Cranwell bus.
Two guys were walking past, and I asked if it was the Cranwell bus. It was. They too were in suits… I was suddenly feeling very underdressed! I was wearing a comfortable pair of summer trousers and a thin strapped top.
The bus driver wasn’t the most friendliest either. Demanded we wait at the back of the bus to put our bags in the back – I hadn’t really prepared myself for this so didn’t take anything out except my phone. We weren’t allowed to get on the bus before he got into the drivers seat and repeated a few times about putting on seat-belts. I felt like I was being told off by a drill sergeant!
When we got on, the bus driver was asking what course we were on, everyone was saying something that I didn’t understand. So I just assumed they were all already RAF juniors and were there to do a course or something. But it wasnt until I got to Cranwell and was standing in line in the guard room getting my pass that I realised they were all there for an Aptitude test, but they called it CBAT. Not only do I feel really underdressed, but I now feel stupid for not knowing it was a CBAT!
So, I made it to Cranwell eventually, got my room key to a small bedroom, made a few new friends and after changing slightly for dinner, followed my new friends to the Mess for dinner.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day! Setting an alarm for 05:30 and start testing at 07:00!
Watch this space for the next part! The aptitude test itself! (CBAT apparently!)
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Also, if you liked this, please do check out some of my other blog posts.
I walked the Salisbury Plain for charity (The HALO Trust – reducing landmines) – 34km!
Winning Earnesty Writer’s Award!
New Full Book Trailer! For Rose Garden Sanatorium
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