Monday, 6 April 2020

Sowerbutt's Theft

The Englishman palmed his razor-sharp claspknife and tapped it on his leg; he remembered lifting it years earlier from a girl guide during a brief encounter at Poplar Rec. 

Sowerbutt's Resort

The Coronel smiled. “With your help, Benidorm will become the holiday capital of Europe. Your English factories are working again, as are the French and even the Germans with all their damned American money. The workers want their sun, their San Miguel and, above all, their sex. 

Friday, 3 April 2020

Sowerbutt's Body

The smoking body swayed in the light wind, the billowing parachute above shielding what had happened from the Heinkel 111 bomb-aimer, peering through the Plexiglas several thousand feet above. 

Sowerbutt's Letters

By the time the body hit the roadway with a sickening crunch, the letters and other papers secured in a calfskin pouch hanging around the dead man’s neck had burnt to ash. 

Sowerbutt's Sentry

A khaki figure appeared out of the dark, puffing and swearing to himself. “Can’t see my bleeding hand in front of my face in this blackout,” Lance-Corporal Alf Duggett of the Hyde Home Guard muttered. 

Wednesday, 1 April 2020

Sowerbutt's Visitor

The 55-year-old stopped, almost dropping his Boer War-issue Lee Enfield rifle. “Gawd’s sake, it’s a bleeding parachutist. Must be a Jerry invader.”

Sowerbutt's Secret

The Brigadier said: "I must ask you to keep all the events of the last few hours strictly to yourself. As a serving member of His Majesty’s Armed Forces, you are subject to all the provisions of the Official Secrets Act of 1911."