Alan Hardy's Blog - Posts Tagged "spies"
Free excerpt from BRITT
If, after reading this excerpt, you'd like to check out the whole book, here it is:
http://www.amazon.com/BRITT-Alan-Hard...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/BRITT-Alan-Ha...
Britt smiled awkwardly at Dr Goole as they sat outside the small bar in the centre of the village. Following the morning's operations, he had invited her to take a stroll with him to the nearby village and partake of an aperitif. The fresh air would do her good, he had said.
"How do you feel now, my dear? You were looking decidedly peaky when I was removing that shrapnel from the young lieutenant's knee-cap."
"Oh, I'm much better," answered Britt, glancing self-consciously at the dusty street and its handful of buildings. There was nothing of particular note in the village except for, at its outskirts, a pretty cypress tree by a pond, bordered by a wood.
Dr Goole was in his late thirties, dapper and self-assured, with snappy, determined movements of the head and limbs whenever he moved, spoke, or operated. He was a cool type, who had chosen his profession well.
"Was that the famous Wriggles of Royal Flying Corps fame who was visiting you the other day? He's been in the newspapers recently with his unmasking of the spy Watahuri."
"Yes, our families know each other well. We were always together as children."
"Are you related to him? Cousins or something?"
Britt seemed surprised, and pleased, by his question. She felt a bit more at ease.
"We are very distantly related, I'm not quite sure of the exact details. But we're not first cousins. I don't have any cousins. Wriggles has five."
"And what are their names?"
Dr Goole seemed genuinely interested. Britt's eyes began to sparkle, animated by the turn the subject-matter of the conversation was taking. With the sun catching her livelier features, she suddenly looked beautiful.
"John, George, Daphne, Miriam. And Rebecca, though he's never seen her much. Not since they were children," she answered breathlessly.
"He's very dashing, isn't he?" Dr Goole said. "Is there some sort of agreement between you?" He peered at her intently, an amused curl about his lips.
"Agreement? Oh, no," mumbled Britt, becoming unsure again, her face reddening. "He's like a brother."
"Is there no young beau writing you letters from home, or the Front?"
"Oh, no," she replied, making flustered twists and turns of the head, and fiddling about with her hands on her lap, unable to meet the doctor's nosy, cheeky stare. "I just write to mummy and daddy. And Wriggles, of course..."
"You're a very pretty young lady, it won't be long before there's an engagement ring on that delicate, slender hand of yours," mouthed Dr Goole, a slight stumbling over his words, cleared by a peremptory little cough, betraying a growing emotional entanglement Britt was totally unaware of.
Britt lowered her head, totally confused and discomfited.
"I hear Wriggles is in the Arras region today on some top-secret business," the doctor commented. "He is certainly a busy young man."
He continued to stare at Britt, crossing and re-crossing his legs. Britt remained silent. He stood up abruptly. He cleared his throat.
"Soon time to amputate a couple more limbs, I think," he said. "Shall we stroll back? Breathe in the odour of the flowers?" He gazed around him. "Look at the beauty of France, my dear! You wouldn't realise from the look of the land around us that France is on its knees, brought low by the decadence of revolution and democracy, would you?"
Britt stared at Dr Goole, then at the rich terrain around them, drained a little of its vibrant colour in the sweltering heat, and then back at the doctor. They walked slowly to the hospital.
"Come to my office," he commanded, as they entered the cool of the interior. "I have something to show you."
Once inside the office, he gazed intently at her, unblinking, impassive but for a slight facial twitch. He closed the door of his spacious office, filled with anatomical specimens in bottles, and bits and pieces of skull and bone lying on tables or standing on mounts in the corners. He went to sit down on the red sofa. Britt, out-of-place and shy, continued to look around the room.
"Look here, my dear!" called out Dr Goole.
Britt swivelled round and was appalled. Dr Goole was on the sofa, and held in his hands a wriggling, hideous-looking animal of some description, shaped like a sausage, slightly wet at its tip. For a moment it seemed to Britt that he was massaging it, but she soon realised that the loathsome, snake-like creature was beyond the doctor's control, twisting and turning its ugly mass in its bid to escape his hold.
"My God!" she exclaimed. "What is it? Is it venomous? Shall I call for help? Has it bitten you?"
The doctor did look badly affected, struggling for breath, red-faced, no longer cool and calm, his crazed eyes fixed imploringly on Britt.
There was a knock at the door. Dr Goole became even more disconcerted, looking up at the door with a start. The creature in his hands seemed to shrink, as if looking for somewhere to hide. Britt continued to stare at the doctor and the strange animal, completely transfixed. There was another knock at the door.
"Go and answer," he croaked.
Britt rushed to let in one of her fellow-nurses. When she turned round, she saw the doctor over by the open window, readjusting himself and attempting to regain his composure.
"What's happened?" exclaimed Britt. "Have you got rid of it?"
"No need to worry, my dear," said the doctor, turning round, clearing his throat, and rubbing the fingers of his right hand gingerly against each other. "Everything has been dealt with."
"But what was it?" mumbled Britt, as he man-handled her out of the room. "Are you hurt in some way? Is it dead?"
"See her to her room, Rebecca," he ordered the other nurse. "She's been working hard, things are getting to her. She needs a lie-down."
Rebecca, a red-haired, confident-looking girl who had just joined the hospital-staff that very day, and to whom Britt had not yet been introduced, stared at him, rather questioningly.
"Rebecca, do as you are told," he mouthed deliberately and firmly, giving her an authoritative stare. "You know your own name, don't you? Your real name is Rebecca, isn't it? You must tell everybody. Accompany Britt to her room, Rebecca."
Once in her room, and having thanked Rebecca for her help, Britt flung herself down on the bed. Her nerves were shot to pieces, and her body was still trembling from the shock of the repulsive-looking animal she had caught a glimpse of on Dr Goole's lap. As she closed her eyes, images of it, and its slimy, insidious crawling and wriggling, wouldn't leave her head. They intermingled with images of blood spurting over her from wounded soldiers being cut open and stitched up. She suddenly shot up, stifling a scream, as she frantically searched around her bed and body with her palpitating hands for any sign of the evil creature nearby or even sneaking up on to her person. She gave little cries of panic and disgust, something like sobs, and her breathing came faster and faster. She lay back again, feeling exhausted. She jumped up, and jammed a chair against the door, which had no lock. She had to keep that snake out. She had to keep everything out. She lay on the bed.
She couldn't sleep. She hadn't been able to sleep easily the last few days. She lay there, as she had many a night, thinking of her parents, and their cousins, and Wriggles, and his cousins, and even Dr Goole, and getting them all mixed up as she fell into a half-stupor. She curled up into a foetal position, sucking her thumb, resentful that she had been sent out here to this horrible big world with its creepy reptiles and bloodied pieces of flesh. She wanted to go home, and felt anger welling up inside her. And she also knew it was wrong to want to go home. It was babyish. And anger welled up inside her against those who had made her into a big baby. And those who had sent her out here. She wanted to hit out. She wanted to punish those who were to blame. She opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. A chilling look came into her eyes. No longer scared, but scary.
http://www.amazon.com/BRITT-Alan-Hard...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/BRITT-Alan-Ha...
http://www.amazon.com/BRITT-Alan-Hard...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/BRITT-Alan-Ha...
Britt smiled awkwardly at Dr Goole as they sat outside the small bar in the centre of the village. Following the morning's operations, he had invited her to take a stroll with him to the nearby village and partake of an aperitif. The fresh air would do her good, he had said.
"How do you feel now, my dear? You were looking decidedly peaky when I was removing that shrapnel from the young lieutenant's knee-cap."
"Oh, I'm much better," answered Britt, glancing self-consciously at the dusty street and its handful of buildings. There was nothing of particular note in the village except for, at its outskirts, a pretty cypress tree by a pond, bordered by a wood.
Dr Goole was in his late thirties, dapper and self-assured, with snappy, determined movements of the head and limbs whenever he moved, spoke, or operated. He was a cool type, who had chosen his profession well.
"Was that the famous Wriggles of Royal Flying Corps fame who was visiting you the other day? He's been in the newspapers recently with his unmasking of the spy Watahuri."
"Yes, our families know each other well. We were always together as children."
"Are you related to him? Cousins or something?"
Britt seemed surprised, and pleased, by his question. She felt a bit more at ease.
"We are very distantly related, I'm not quite sure of the exact details. But we're not first cousins. I don't have any cousins. Wriggles has five."
"And what are their names?"
Dr Goole seemed genuinely interested. Britt's eyes began to sparkle, animated by the turn the subject-matter of the conversation was taking. With the sun catching her livelier features, she suddenly looked beautiful.
"John, George, Daphne, Miriam. And Rebecca, though he's never seen her much. Not since they were children," she answered breathlessly.
"He's very dashing, isn't he?" Dr Goole said. "Is there some sort of agreement between you?" He peered at her intently, an amused curl about his lips.
"Agreement? Oh, no," mumbled Britt, becoming unsure again, her face reddening. "He's like a brother."
"Is there no young beau writing you letters from home, or the Front?"
"Oh, no," she replied, making flustered twists and turns of the head, and fiddling about with her hands on her lap, unable to meet the doctor's nosy, cheeky stare. "I just write to mummy and daddy. And Wriggles, of course..."
"You're a very pretty young lady, it won't be long before there's an engagement ring on that delicate, slender hand of yours," mouthed Dr Goole, a slight stumbling over his words, cleared by a peremptory little cough, betraying a growing emotional entanglement Britt was totally unaware of.
Britt lowered her head, totally confused and discomfited.
"I hear Wriggles is in the Arras region today on some top-secret business," the doctor commented. "He is certainly a busy young man."
He continued to stare at Britt, crossing and re-crossing his legs. Britt remained silent. He stood up abruptly. He cleared his throat.
"Soon time to amputate a couple more limbs, I think," he said. "Shall we stroll back? Breathe in the odour of the flowers?" He gazed around him. "Look at the beauty of France, my dear! You wouldn't realise from the look of the land around us that France is on its knees, brought low by the decadence of revolution and democracy, would you?"
Britt stared at Dr Goole, then at the rich terrain around them, drained a little of its vibrant colour in the sweltering heat, and then back at the doctor. They walked slowly to the hospital.
"Come to my office," he commanded, as they entered the cool of the interior. "I have something to show you."
Once inside the office, he gazed intently at her, unblinking, impassive but for a slight facial twitch. He closed the door of his spacious office, filled with anatomical specimens in bottles, and bits and pieces of skull and bone lying on tables or standing on mounts in the corners. He went to sit down on the red sofa. Britt, out-of-place and shy, continued to look around the room.
"Look here, my dear!" called out Dr Goole.
Britt swivelled round and was appalled. Dr Goole was on the sofa, and held in his hands a wriggling, hideous-looking animal of some description, shaped like a sausage, slightly wet at its tip. For a moment it seemed to Britt that he was massaging it, but she soon realised that the loathsome, snake-like creature was beyond the doctor's control, twisting and turning its ugly mass in its bid to escape his hold.
"My God!" she exclaimed. "What is it? Is it venomous? Shall I call for help? Has it bitten you?"
The doctor did look badly affected, struggling for breath, red-faced, no longer cool and calm, his crazed eyes fixed imploringly on Britt.
There was a knock at the door. Dr Goole became even more disconcerted, looking up at the door with a start. The creature in his hands seemed to shrink, as if looking for somewhere to hide. Britt continued to stare at the doctor and the strange animal, completely transfixed. There was another knock at the door.
"Go and answer," he croaked.
Britt rushed to let in one of her fellow-nurses. When she turned round, she saw the doctor over by the open window, readjusting himself and attempting to regain his composure.
"What's happened?" exclaimed Britt. "Have you got rid of it?"
"No need to worry, my dear," said the doctor, turning round, clearing his throat, and rubbing the fingers of his right hand gingerly against each other. "Everything has been dealt with."
"But what was it?" mumbled Britt, as he man-handled her out of the room. "Are you hurt in some way? Is it dead?"
"See her to her room, Rebecca," he ordered the other nurse. "She's been working hard, things are getting to her. She needs a lie-down."
Rebecca, a red-haired, confident-looking girl who had just joined the hospital-staff that very day, and to whom Britt had not yet been introduced, stared at him, rather questioningly.
"Rebecca, do as you are told," he mouthed deliberately and firmly, giving her an authoritative stare. "You know your own name, don't you? Your real name is Rebecca, isn't it? You must tell everybody. Accompany Britt to her room, Rebecca."
Once in her room, and having thanked Rebecca for her help, Britt flung herself down on the bed. Her nerves were shot to pieces, and her body was still trembling from the shock of the repulsive-looking animal she had caught a glimpse of on Dr Goole's lap. As she closed her eyes, images of it, and its slimy, insidious crawling and wriggling, wouldn't leave her head. They intermingled with images of blood spurting over her from wounded soldiers being cut open and stitched up. She suddenly shot up, stifling a scream, as she frantically searched around her bed and body with her palpitating hands for any sign of the evil creature nearby or even sneaking up on to her person. She gave little cries of panic and disgust, something like sobs, and her breathing came faster and faster. She lay back again, feeling exhausted. She jumped up, and jammed a chair against the door, which had no lock. She had to keep that snake out. She had to keep everything out. She lay on the bed.
She couldn't sleep. She hadn't been able to sleep easily the last few days. She lay there, as she had many a night, thinking of her parents, and their cousins, and Wriggles, and his cousins, and even Dr Goole, and getting them all mixed up as she fell into a half-stupor. She curled up into a foetal position, sucking her thumb, resentful that she had been sent out here to this horrible big world with its creepy reptiles and bloodied pieces of flesh. She wanted to go home, and felt anger welling up inside her. And she also knew it was wrong to want to go home. It was babyish. And anger welled up inside her against those who had made her into a big baby. And those who had sent her out here. She wanted to hit out. She wanted to punish those who were to blame. She opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. A chilling look came into her eyes. No longer scared, but scary.
http://www.amazon.com/BRITT-Alan-Hard...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/BRITT-Alan-Ha...
