Esther Chilton

If you’d like to be included in this slot, please get in touch: estherchilton@gmail.com. Poems can be up to 60 lines and prose 2000 words. If you’d like to add a short bio and photo, then great. All I ask is that there’s nothing offensive.

This week’s guest is blogger and author Charlie Robinson. I’ve known Charlie for a few years now and love the characters he’s created in his books. The first in the series is The Siege of Mr Khan’s Curry Shop and last year Charlie published the sequel, Who’s Got all the Biscuits. Here’s the blurb for the latest in the series:

It’s 1978 and four years since Billy left Bradford to join his father, Jack, in Morocco. Jack agrees to do a favour for a local chieftain. One act of kindness unleashes a series of events Billy and Jack couldn’t have envisaged – including kidnap, murder and revenge. With no alternative but to agree to a deal, they’re taken from the Western Sahara to Yorkshire and back.

Their business partner, Tommy Dickinson, told them not to get involved, but, as situations escalate, it’s clear they’re in far too deep…

Here’s an extract:

Chapter 3

Retaliation

Tommy opened the wine as Linda began to serve the evening meal. ‘Good stuff this, Linda. Did Jack buy it in specially?’ Tommy knew Jack would have. They’d been friends since their schooldays, but there was no harm in joining in the game.

Linda placed a terrine of goat meat stew on the table. ‘You know Jack,’ she said. ‘He’s always eager to please.’

‘And to pacify. I mean, let’s face it, the Glenfiddich, the good wine. It’s all to keep me happy because he’s buggered off on his mission.’

Linda returned from the oven and slammed down another terrine. ‘Couscous! You know what, Tommy? You can be such a righteous twat at times. Yes, Jack’s gone off to do something you told him not to do. That’s it, forget it. He’ll be back in a couple of days, Hamza will be grateful and everything will be back to normal.’

Tommy smiled inwardly; he knew how devoted Linda was to his friend, so he held his hands in the air in a mock state of submission. ‘OK, OK, I’ll forget it. This looks wonderful, Linda, thank you,’ he grinned and turned to Billy, his expression changing. ‘Billy, can we get those forms signed first thing tomorrow and can you look after Janine for a bit?’

‘I was thinking of tagging along with you, Tommy,’ Janine said and winked at him. ‘Don’t look so horrified, I wasn’t planning on playing gooseberry. I’d like to wander around the market and the gardens. I can get a taxi back.’

‘Oh, OK, but it would have been fine, really.’ Tommy wondered if everyone was hell bent on winding him up on this trip.

‘If you say so, Tommy,’ Janine laughed.

‘Am I missing something here? What market and what gardens? Where are you off to?’ Billy asked.

‘I’m meeting Sheila.’

‘Sheila? Your Sheila?’

Tommy finished pouring the wine, set the bottle on the table and frowned. ‘Is there another?’ He was enjoying this; it felt like he was getting some control back.

 ‘But I thought she was still in Bradford.’

‘She’s been over here for the last three days, Billy. It’s what they call a quango.’

‘A what?’

‘A quango. It’s a group of people who advise government ministers. When she knew I was coming out here she managed to wangle her way onto this one. They’re meeting with local businesspeople and discussing ways to improve the import/export arrangements between our two countries.’ Tommy served Janine some stew and couscous. ‘Sheila? You mean your Sheila?’ Billy asked, sounding surprised for a second time.

Tommy helped himself to the goat meat. ‘Don’t sound so incredulous, Billy. Yes, my Sheila. Since you left four years ago, she’s really pushed herself. She’s a bright girl and working for our local MP. I was surprised he got her on this trip at the last minute, but it shows how much he values her.’ There followed a few seconds’ silence. Tommy was aware Sheila and Billy had been an item, for a short while, four years ago. But insecurity wasn’t a trait he entertained. ‘Away with the fairies, Billy?’ he asked mischievously.

‘Er, no. Sorry, Tommy. I’m happy for her, both of you. Yeah, I can do the forms first thing, no problem.’ To Tommy’s amusement Billy looked not only surprised, but a little crestfallen.

The next morning, after breakfast, Tommy left the forms with Billy and, refusing offers of a lift from Linda, asked her to call for a taxi to the Mendoubia Gardens.

‘You do know where you’re meeting Sheila, don’t you?’ Billy asked.

‘Outside the Sidi Bou Abid Mosque, that’s where she suggested. She has a bloke from the group taking her there and I’m dropping her back at the hotel later.’ Tommy winked.

‘Just be careful when you go through the Grand Socco – the taxi will drop you there. It’s a market and it’s busy. You might get the odd pickpocket.’

Tommy looked at Billy with a raised eyebrow. ‘Is this a face you would try and steal from, Billy?’ he asked.

‘Yup,’ said Billy. ‘You’ve got knobhead English tourist written all over you. I was warning Janine to keep an eye on you,’ he laughed.

*

The taxi weaved its way through the busy streets of Tangier and dropped them at the market. It was a busy place and, to the bystander, may have looked disorganised but, as Tommy knew, was far from it. All bazaars ran like well-oiled machines. The air, combined with the dry desert scent, was filled with an aroma of many different spices. The varying colours of handcrafts, clothes, carpets and much more gave it a vibrant atmosphere. Tommy asked Janine if she was OK and, as she ushered him away, left her to browse. He walked briskly across the square. As he passed a large doorway, firm arms wrapped around him and bundled him into the doorway.

‘Hey, what’s your game?’ Tommy exclaimed, staring at two swarthy-looking men.

‘Be quiet and listen,’ one of the men said. ‘You have someone my boss wants back and now he will have someone you want back.’ He handed Tommy a piece of scrap paper. ‘Call this number when you return to your home. You will be given instructions.’ The two men ran off leaving Tommy bemused. He shook his head, saw them disappear into the crowd and wondered what they could mean. “Now he has someone you want back.” Did they mean Sheila? He began to run. He instinctively knew where he was going. Regardless of Billy’s comments, he had been to Tangier before, while the l ittle shit was still in short pants. The Sidi Bou Abid Mosque tower was visible from afar and with the inlaid mosaic tiling it was extremely hard to miss.

When he arrived there was a crowd gathered outside, and he edged his way round them. The local police had surrounded a man sitting on the floor. The man was dressed in a pale blue linen suit and the police were asking him questions. He was clearly western.

Tommy rushed over. That must be the bloke who escorted Sheila. As he approached he was stopped by a uniformed police officer. Another officer, who was questioning the guy in the suit, waved his colleague down and beckoned Tommy to approach.

‘Do you know this man?’ he asked, pointing to the man on the floor.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ Tommy said.

The man looked up. ‘Are you Tommy?’

‘Yes, yes, I am.’

‘They grabbed her!’ the man said. ‘They grabbed Sheila.’

Tommy’s heart lurched. The words echoed in his head again. You have someone my boss wants back and now he has someone you want back. He began to look round frantically and then he saw her: Sheila appeared from behind a group of bystanders with a police officer by her side. He ran to her and held her tight.

‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘Someone grabbed me and stole my bag, no one’s died.’

‘It’s just I thought, well, I thought – it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, that’s all that matters. But, oh… shit.’ Tommy turned round with a scowl. ‘Janine.’

***

Author bio:

Charlie Robinson lives in Beverley, East Yorkshire with his wife. He started to take writing seriously after a Writers Bureau course. Who’s Got The Biscuits, is his second novel and the sequel to The Siege of Mr Khan’s Curry Shop. It was never an intention to write a sequel but so many people asked what happened next he was compelled to do it. He left Bradford at seventeen and has travelled a lot, working in a multitude of industries. If he isn’t writing he’ll probably be outdoors running trails. He has had a few short stories published. His tales centre around people, some who have integrity and some who don’t. His books don’t fit a specific genre but feature drama; crime; romance; thriller; humour; racism and injustice.