Ok i am not a recognised writer and never had anything published or anything but thought during these lockdown times some of you might enjoy the story of The Gretchibald , and I would be happy for critique.( a little children's story wot I wrote and obviously where I got my MHF name ) Don't be afraid to comment 'rubbish' or whatever . PS the characters and everything in the story is true , well nearly.
It's about the relationship between me and a family friend , a little girl called Joss who lives on a farm by a mountain.
Ok here we go with chapter 1.
Joss sat bored by the window, her elbows on the sill, her face neatly cupped in her hands. There wasn’t much to look at, just a few fields and some sheep before the base of Misty Mountain blocked the view. On some days she could see nearly halfway up the mountain before the mist started, but not today. It had rained hard all night , the noise of the rain pelting on the conservatory roof had kept her awake for most of the night, she didn’t nod off until after four which meant she slept through breakfast and didn’t wake up till midday.
It was dull, overcast and still raining, not heavy but the sort of drizzle that soaks a person through in minutes, the sort of rain that makes Misty Mountain more misty than usual. “I won’t be going out today” she thought to herself, “maybe play the Wii or surf the net but first I need something to eat”. Joss was always hungry.
“I’m hungry” she said pushing open the kitchen door expecting her Mum to be there, but she wasn’t, just a note on the table that read “Joss, had to work at the pub make yourself something to eat , stuff in the fridge, back about five, Mum”.
Now Joss was sixteen but cooking was something she just didn’t do, along with cleaning or anything else that felt remotely like work so she looked out the kitchen window into the yard to see if Dad was there. Dad was a soft touch for Joss, she was the baby of the family, Daddy’s little girl, oh yeah she knew how to wrap him around her little finger any time she wanted. Like last summer when she wanted that expensive ski holiday in the Alps and Mum said no ‘cos she’d already had three other holiday trips that year, it only took ten minutes on Daddy’s knee and the holiday was booked.
Dad wasn’t there , the tractor was gone from the yard and it was so quiet, for an instant Joss forgot food and realised she was alone in the house. She was not afraid, Joss was never afraid, in fact that boldness to do anything, go anywhere had got her into more trouble than enough in the past. Her Dad referred to this trait as self confidence, her mother as
stupidity. Loneliness, not fear, is what she felt. This house which used to buzz with people and noise, where a person could never really get any privacy, had become as quiet as a church. The house to herself, wasn’t that what she wanted, what she’d wished for all her life, to get rid of those bossy, self opinionated, selfish, bullying horrible twins.
Now being the youngest sister in any family has its advantages and disadvantages but being the younger sister to two overbearing, domineering twin sisters seemed to Joss to have only disadvantages, especially since they were the infamous Rainey Twins. Now there’s a book just waiting to be written, but for now they were gone.
Joss remembered that day at the airport when they waved them off to University , Mum ,Dad and brother Stephen all with tears in their eyes ; Joss did her best to look the same but inwardly it was like having ten birthdays all rolled into one, she couldn’t wait to get back home to claim everything, change everything, do what she wanted , when she wanted, the big bedroom for starters and no more waiting for the shower , no squeezing into the car, no more twins leftovers…. the list was endless.
A rumbling in the belly brought Joss out of her daydream as she realised she still hadn’t had anything to eat yet so, still in her jammies, she grabbed the usual Joss snack and sat down at the table to devour it. The Crunchie bar tasted good as always and something about the way it reacted with the Coke when swilled around the inside of her mouth gave it that special sensation which made it Joss’s favourite. As she sat there pondering on what other concoctions she might try she heard the sound of footsteps coming across the gravel path towards the French doors.
“Anybody in”, she knew that voice, it was old Alan.
Last edited by Gretchibald; 11-12-2020 at 16:57.