I promised you all some of my older stories, from way back when- l very obviously had an extremely vivid imagination, influenced by events, news and the interests l had at the time. These couple of articles are ancient, from a folder titled "1974-1978 Books 1 & 2", l won't bore you with anymore from this era as they all seemed full of doom and gloom, my love of The Osmonds!! The Bay City Rollers!! and Rosetta Stone- who!! and the legendary James Hunt race car champion- showing my age now. Arghh -really!!.
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FRIENDS- Feb.26th 1974
Friends are people whom you can trust, people to cheer you up, people to tell your secrets to, people who can tell your worries to, people who help you to get out of trouble, people to have fun with, people to repay when they've helped you. I moved from a friend and l am still friends with her because l write to her.
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GRANNIES- MODERN GRANNIES- 22nd Sept. 1975
The make up and wigs,
And platform shoes,
The fashionable dresses and skirts,
Modern grans never admit their ages,
They don't like to be called old,
Teenagers laugh,
If grannies dress up,
To try and be young is their aim,
They never succeed,
'Cos wrinkled faces,
Always give them away,
They use dyes to hide the grey,
But still they get caught.
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HOBBLING GRAN FROM THE PAST- 22nd Sept. 1975
Hobbling down roads,
And moaning about people,
Especially children who scream,
And shout and make a horrible racket,
Wrinkled faces,
And grey scraggly hair,
Walking sticks and shawls,
Not like modern day grans at all.
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THE MISSING CHILD- 27th Nov. 1976
Saturday 4th November, it was sunny but cold and icy. I was to be sent to my brothers for a week, while mum and dad went to a business holiday in Scotland.
I'm 14 and have never travelled for along distance on my own, what l mean is I've never been to Manchester, stopping and changing trains without mum.
I waved to mum and dad from the train window. Then l closed the window and turned to make myself comfy, at least until l reached Solihull station, but that was miles away yet. I sat staring out of the window for about half an hour, then l read a magazine, I'd brought, but l couldn't concentrate, so l looked and checked the list of instructions I'd been given by mum.
I reached Solihull and changed trains, feeling really grown up and confident, that l was travelling on my own for the first time, mu next change would be at Greenwick and that's where the trouble would start.
I changed trains and sat on my own, in a tiny 'cabin' for an hour, then l was accompanied by some old pensioners who l thought were just nice kind people going to town shopping- but no, l was wrong. For as we passed Levers station we crossed lines and went passed Murley station, which as l'd thought wasn't listed on my instructions. At first l was worried, then l thought perhaps the routes changed since we last came. It was only when we passed three more stations and the old people were glaring at me that l got scared. I asked the lady opposite if l was on the right route to Manchester North, but she just sat glaring. In the end l got up to go to the cafeteria to check and the old people started mumbling and growling, they, they startled me at first, then l just ignored them and walked passed towards the door.
As l walked passed the other 'cabins' l noticed no-one was in them, l got to the cafe- no-one, the train was empty except for the old people and myself. I walked quickly back to the cabin; then l sat panicking. I asked each of the old people if this was the right route- but nothing, just mumbles, growls and hard glares. After another quarter of an hour, l grabbed the old lady opposite me by the shoulders and shook her violently shouting at her but nothing. I let her go and screamed "Why don't you speak?" they started mumbling again, and as l turned to sit down l felt two people grab me and drag me backwards, dragging me down the corridor, then one of them gave out a shrill scream and the old people ran at me screaming, glaring, pushing and tearing at me. I screamed then cried, l was petrified.
Then the two old people who'd been dragging me flung the carriage door open turned me towards it, then screamed "Faster, faster" the rest of them joined in quietly at first then they screamed and l felt their hands let go, l fell on to the track, and felt the track vibrating as l pushed to get up. I turned and saw a train coming, straight for me, and before l knew it l was laying , pressing myself against the track and the hard rails, but it was the wrong way. It was to late to move - the pain of the metal wheels grinding through my head, across my body.
Next day in the paper, on television and on radio came the shock report of a train accident.
'YESTERDAY AS COMMUTERS TRAVELLED FROM MANCHESTER, HOME AT 100 M.P.H A GIRL LAY ON THE TRACK. THE DRIVER SLAMMED ON ALL BRAKES BUT WAS TOO LATE, WHEN THE TRAIN DID EVENTUALLY STOP, THERE WAS NO BODY TO BE FOUND'.
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