Love – Nicholas Walker

Agony on the Ice

Nicholas Walker — Mon, 21 Feb 2022 21:35:01 +0000

It was a sunny day but Samantha was past feeling anything. The garden was very large and she wandered off down to where the pond was, there were chairs there and she was still feeling exhausted, she was flushing the sleeping pills Dr Lewis had prescribed down the toilet every night. There was a large swinging garden chair by the pond but when she reached it someone was already sitting in it. She froze and Alex rose to his feet. ‘What the hell?’ she demanded. ‘I thought I’d drop round,’ he said, trying to find something innocuous to say. ‘I told you to stay away,’ she said, ‘I told everybody I didn’t want to see you!’ ‘I wanted to see you.’ ‘Would you just go? Please.’ ‘This isn’t fair,’ he said. He tried to walk towards her but stopped when she flinched away from him. He spread his hands in appeal, ‘You owe me more than this.’ ‘I don’t owe you anything! We were partners, that’s all. Skating partners and now that’s all over and done.’ ‘We were more than that and you know it. I love you.’ ‘Well, I don’t love you! I don’t even like you.’ She held her head in her hands, ‘Just sod off why don’t you?’ ‘You’re my fiancée, we’re supposed to be getting married, planning our wedding.’ ‘Marry you? I’m not going to marry you!’ it was almost a snarl. She wrenched at the ring on her finger that he had given her, his grandmother’s ring, the expensive one. It stuck and she had to use her teeth and she finally dragged it free leaving her finger bleeding. She hurled it savagely at him and it bounced off his chest and into the flower beds. ‘Now just sod off!’ she said, and she turned and bolted back towards the house.

Autobiography of a Short, Fat, Ugly Man: A Kind of Immortality

Nicholas Walker — Sun, 15 Aug 2021 01:01:26 +0000

Apologies: I could read when I was three. It’s not unnatural, some children just seem to teach themselves to read, we think it’s by a process of copying adults and interpreting pictures. From the age of about six I was reading a book every day, that is finishing a book every day…a practice I have continued all my life. I’m not saying I read War and Peace in one day but I tend to finish an average sized adult’s book most days. When I was eight I was reading James Bond and books by Alistair McLean and Neville Shute. Mind you I was still reading all the children’s books as well, still do now: Bunter, William, Jennings, The Famous Five and all the others. I read all the heavy stuff in my teens and now regret wasting so much of my time digesting crap like Wuthering Heights and Tom Jones…give me a break. There is nothing in those old fashioned dirges that you cannot find ten times better in a modern book…literary insight my ass. Most of them were written by middle class virgins who knew nothing of life and the only reason they got published was because there were so few people writing during the last century. I took a year to read: The Fall and Decline of the Roman Empire, then there was Boswell’s Life of Johnson both of which were okay. Then there were all the Nordic folk tales and stuff like that. By the age of fourteen I had read the whole of Kingswinford Library half a dozen times. Then when I was thirty eight I was at Exeter University and a professor told us we should read the Aeneid if only in translation, I had always avoided it like the plague because it was in Latin. But I knew about the Aeneid from the Bunter books so I read it and wasn’t that impressed but while I was reading it I had a kind of revelation: I was reading words written by an ordinary bloke some 2000 years ago! A living, breathing man who maybe had just had an argument with his wife or had an upset stomach or was just feeling ticked off with the world. He was communicating with me over huge scans of time and appearing on my page as alive as he had ever been…the thought took my breath away, anything I read or indeed wrote was not limited by the mere lifetime of a man, it could go on forever…it was a Kind of Immortality!

Autobiography of a Short, Fat, Ugly Man: Tears in the Rain

Nicholas Walker — Sun, 15 Aug 2021 00:39:21 +0000

The final book in this series takes Nick right up to the time he had a breakdown and ran away around the world on the QE2. The eight years he was married to his beautiful second wife when he was to learn just how disarming looks can be.

Going Round the Bend on the QE2

Nicholas Walker — Sat, 26 Sep 2020 01:04:56 +0000

Written by a bestselling author this is the hilarious story of him having a nervous breakdown and running away around the world on the QE2! Unbelievable but absolutely true the author’s sensitive mental state gives him a different slant on world travel and the millionaires he mixes with. A truly different travel book which will have you laughing on every page. This is the true story of how the author cured a nervous breakdown by taking a world cruise on The Queen Elizabeth ll. It is a peep into the luxury lifestyle of the very rich from the somewhat sardonic viewpoint of someone who is not quite sane. We visit 40 countries and each one is treated to the author’s observations which are nearly always humorous and written by someone who’s fragile mental state causes him to throw all caution to the winds. But more than that, Nick isn’t your conventional world traveller: he gets arrested in New York and undergoes an intimate body search, he fights off three armed muggers in Jamaica, falls out with Australian customs officers, has a motor bike accident in Bali, is attacked by two old men in The Taj Mahal and is thrown out of Vietnam. The book, though, is more about his life aboard the QE2: his love affairs, his growing relationship with the staff and their intimate, closeted lifestyle, the disastrous staff concert that ends up in an all-out fight, the excesses of the super-rich passengers and the bizarre situations that only happen aboard such as the night where he is trapped on the dance floor with the three women he has been dating. All in all it is the story of a man making his way back to sanity until he is finally deposited back on the quay at Southampton where he started only now he is penniless and has just been informed that everything he owns in the world has been thrown overboard into the sea. The hilarious follow up is now available on Kindle: Going Insane in America, where Nick runs away to America to avoid his proctologist!

Autobiography of a Short, Fat, Ugly Man: The Making of an Author

Nicholas Walker — Fri, 25 Sep 2020 00:23:31 +0000

I remember another incident much later on with Mr Griffiths. I sort of invented skiving off in about the third year but right back in the first year I stopped going to Geography. I hadn’t done a project as it was homework so as the teacher was very scary I hid in the toilets then I didn’t like to go back the following lesson and the more I stayed away the more the consequences piled up so the more I stayed away. I stayed away until the Fifth Form and then tragedy happened, Mrs Dark the teacher I was staying away from was tasked to write a report on me. She professed to having no idea who I was and I received the long awaited summons to Mr Griffith’s study. He was standing there reading the report with a stunned expression on his face. ‘Walker,’ he said and now I knew I was in real trouble if he was calling me Walker. ‘Good Morning sir, and isn’t it a lovely one?’ I tried. He gave me a look. ‘You have been cutting Mrs Dark’s Geography lessons since the first year, correct?’ ‘Spot on, sir,’ said I with nothing to lose. ‘I see. Well, as far as I can work out that means you have cut somewhere in the region of 348 lessons, yes?’ ‘I can’t really help you there sir, I’m not very good at maths.’ I thought it better not to tell him I had recently been cutting Maths lessons as well. ‘Well, Nicknack…Walker,’ he said clutching at his forehead, ‘this leaves me with a bit of a problem. You see if a pupil cuts one lesson, they are made to copy up the whole lesson during detention.’ ‘Seems fair enough to me, sir.’ ‘Nicknack, shut up!’ he shouted losing it. He took a deep breath to bring himself back under control and after a minute continued in a more level tone, ‘For two lessons they are given the cane. For three they are put on home report.’ He lost it and started to dance around at this point, ‘I don’t know what the hell I am supposed to do about 348!!!’ I couldn’t think of anything to say that would improve the situation at this point. Now he seemed to have some sort of stroke and I watched him anxiously as he leaned over his desk fighting for breath, after all he wasn’t getting any younger. Gradually his bright red colour faded and he raised a trembling hand and pointed it at the door: ‘Go away you horrible boy!’ Like I said we all liked Mr Griffiths!

Kiss Mommy Goodbye: Vegas! Vegas! Vegas!

Nicholas Walker — Mon, 07 Sep 2020 00:44:28 +0000

‘Would you care to start, Christina?’ he said. ‘We just thought we’d like to try our hands at a game of cards,’ said Christina thereby revealing which one she was to Peter. ‘Try a game of cards?’ he demanded. ‘You took over one hundred thousand dollars off that man.’ ‘We were lucky,’ said Alexia. ‘Lucky? Lucky‽ Bloody hell, that’s some run of luck,’ Peter stormed. ‘You were counting cards…no, don’t deny it: you were counting cards!’ ‘Well, Peter, that’s not against the law is it?’ put in Bobby. Peter glared at her, she was still wearing her disguise and it was so good that it still felt like he was talking to a stranger rather than the woman who shared his bed. He had to be very careful, he wanted to tell her to keep out of it but he could easily hurt her badly that way. Bobby was trying very hard to be part of his family. ‘It’s against the rules,’ he said. ‘It’s tantamount to stealing!’ ‘No Peter, that’s not fair,’ said Bobby. ‘The odds in those casinos are so stacked against anybody winning that the girls had every right to use their brains to level the playing field.’ ‘Well, whatever…you’re going to give Mr Martin all his money back and you can go around there tomorrow and apologise!’ ‘We can’t,’ said Christina. ‘We’ve already given the money away.’ ‘Who to?’ ‘Oxfam,’ supplied Alexia. ‘Oxfam! Why?’ ‘It’s our favourite charity,’ said Christina. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it,’ said Peter. ‘Anyway, what about the money you won this afternoon?’ ‘We had the casino pay it by cheque and we posted it to Oxfam before we came to…’ Alexia gave a shudder but Peter was too stressed to notice how she couldn’t say the name. ‘That man’s office,’ she finished lamely. ‘So you thought I might be there?’ he demanded. Their silence told him he was right. There was a long pause as Peter considered his options. ‘Well, tomorrow you can come with me to Oxfam, if there’s a local office and you can explain exactly how you came by that money and request its return.’ ‘No,’ said Christina quietly. ‘What do you mean, no?’ ‘She means no,’ said Alexia, the more submissive twin. She walked forward, reached up and kissed his cheek before he could stop her. ‘Dad, we’re sorry you got involved, really. We know how much you hate a scene but it’s something we had to do.’ ‘You two young ladies will do as you’re damn well told,’ he stormed. Christina held up her hand, ‘Just give me one minute,’ she said to him and Peter watched in bewilderment as she disappeared into his and Bobby’s bedroom. She came out a couple of seconds later and handed him one of his slippers. ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘If you feel you have to use your slipper on us then we will accept your punishment,’ said Alexia meeting his eyes. ‘But we are not going to return the money to that man.’ ‘And we’re not going to apologise to him either,’ said Christina. She came and stood alongside her sister right in front of him. Peter’s face was working furiously as he tried to get hold of the situation. Bobby made it worse. She stepped forward in between the two girls: ‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘I’m quite ready to accept your punishment as well.’ ‘Oh don’t be so ridiculous!’ said Peter crossly. ‘I’m not being ridiculous,’ she said. ‘I’m as much to blame as the girls are. More, I’m an adult. I went with them, I sat across from them and when they were confronted by the security guard I lied my head off to protect them…you slipper them you slipper me! It’s only fair.’

Sillouettes in the Dark

Nicholas Walker — Wed, 02 Sep 2020 00:59:24 +0000

‘You bastard.’ She raised her hand and slapped him across his face so hard her hand stung. Willie hardly flinched but he switched his eyes back on. ‘I’ll allow you that, but I shan’t allow you to hit me again...understand?’ he said levelly. ‘And as for calling me a bastard, that’s exactly what I am. What are you, a professional virgin?’ His remark hurt so much that the hand jerked up almost involuntarily and slapped him again. There was a silence for a full ten seconds, Sanshia bit her fist horrified at what she had done. Willie nodded as if making up his mind. He strode forward and took hold of her arm just above the elbow, she pulled against him but he was much too strong for her. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded. ‘I told you I wouldn’t allow you to hit me again,’ he said levelly, sitting down in her chair. He pulled her down with him and she struggled furiously not believing what he was going to do. Then she was lying front-wise over his knees, he eased her forward and she found herself head down, her hands flat on the floor, bent over his knees like a child. ‘I don’t know if this is supposed to be some kind of joke, but you are to let me up straight away,’ she said, fury in her voice. ‘I don’t usually hit women, but with you it’ll be a real pleasure,’ he said. Sanshia started to struggle but all at once she relaxed, acutely aware that she was wearing stockings under her skirt and any further movement would be more revealing. Willie fixed one hand firmly over her hip pinning her in place. ‘I should think half the men you have ever met thought you could do with your bottom smacking,’ he said. ‘You lay one finger on me, just one…’ she broke off in disbelief as she felt him lift her skirt right up over her bottom. She froze in horror knowing the spectacle she must look lying there with her bottom stuck in the air wearing the skimpiest pair of knickers in her entire wardrobe. ‘I’ll have the law on you for this,’ she said. ‘Now let go of me this instant!’ Willie sighed, ‘If you want to report me to the police then that’s your prerogative, it’s not going to help your bottom either way. Now you might as well, accept it because you’re not getting up until I’ve quite finished.’ He brought his hand down hard on one cheek of her bottom. A surprised squeal escaped her before she could stop it, she had never really believed he would dare to hit her, but he did it to the other side, then again. Sanshia had never been hit in her whole life before and when she had ever thought about corporal punishment, she had always imagined it would be the embarrassment of the whole thing that would be the worst part, but by the time she had received the fifth smack it was the pain she was worrying about. She tried to minimise her predicament by keeping stock still, pretending it didn’t hurt, but soon she found herself struggling trying to avoid the next smack. ‘No! Now that’s enough!’ she gasped out but he ignored her and kept going rhythmically, a pause and then another smack. She couldn’t believe that such a childish punishment could hurt so much. She kicked her legs and heaved about but to no avail, then suddenly in spite of her strongest efforts she burst into tears. Willie hit her one more time, the twelfth time, then he lifted her up and stood her on her feet, and she realised he had been waiting for her to cry. She backed away from him frantically pulling her skirt down but she still lost her dignity for she found herself holding her bottom with both hands, tears till pouring down her face. ‘You bastard,’ she said. ‘I’ve already told you that’s exactly what I am,’ he said getting to his feet. With a terrific effort she pulled her hands away and lifted one of them as though to strike him again. He regarded her levelly, ‘Go on if you want,’ he said, ‘but the next time I’ll take your knickers down as well.’ She stood there one hand raised, then at last she lowered it and took a step back. ‘Get out! Get out of here!’ she said. ‘I’ll have you thrown out of the college by this time tomorrow.’ Willie shrugged, ‘You can try if you want,’ he said. ‘You know where to find me.’ He turned and walked out shutting the door behind him.

Love on the Ice

Nicholas Walker — Tue, 01 Sep 2020 01:30:13 +0000

‘Sir Robert,’ he said carefully, ‘I know we’ve had a few run ins in the past but when did you start to disrespect us so much?’ ‘What?’ ‘You refused to fund us before and now when B & B have withdrawn suddenly you realise that you have no real British Dancers for the Gold Ribbon event of the first Winter Olympic ever to be held in Britain…you think money is going to get you a medal?’ ‘No! Of course not but it helps,’ said Sir Robert. ‘You can stick your damned money!’ Samantha got to her feet. ‘Nothing’s changed since we were here a few weeks ago begging you to fund us…we’re no better now than we were then. We don’t want your damned money!’ She glared at Morris, ‘And I would have thought better of you!’ Morris didn’t answer. ‘You say how with all your help we might just win the Bronze! The Bronze‽’ Samantha’s voice rose to almost a shout, ‘Alex and me we don’t want a bloody Bronze medal! We don’t want your money, or your help. You just get out of our way and we’re going to bring back the Gold!’ She punched the desk in front of them really hard. ‘We’re going to bring back the Olympic Gold Medal Sir Robert…get that‽’ She stared Sir Robert right into the eyes and for the first time he saw her as more than a rather tiresome young girl but as an inspired young woman. ‘We’re going to bring it back for Britain,’ she said and now her voice had dropped to almost a whisper, ‘we’re going to bring it back for you, for BIS, for UK Sport…’ she turned and pointed a finger at Morris: ‘…and we are going to bring it back for Benjamin and Belinda.’ She turned and stormed out of the room closely followed by Alex who for once hadn’t tried to soften his explosive partner’s words by one syllable. Morris and Sir Robert watched them go. They sat in silence for a full thirty seconds letting the tension in the room drain away. At last Morris held out his hand and clicked his fingers at Sir Robert. Sir Robert sighed then reached in his inside pocket and handed Morris a £20 note.

Revenge of the Kraal

Nicholas Walker — Mon, 31 Aug 2020 01:23:06 +0000

‘I’m breaking out this weekend,’ she said in a low voice but a voice that carried to them all. ‘I want to know how many of you want to come with me.’ There was a stunned silence at this. After a moment Olivia spoke: ‘I want to come…’ ‘I know you do,’ Kimba interrupted her. ‘What about the rest of you?’ ‘We haven’t thought about it,’ said Barnaby. ‘Well, I mean, we have of course but you’ve got to give us a bit to decide.’ ‘That’s fair enough,’ said Kimba to everyone’s surprise. ‘Isn’t it awfully dangerous?’ said Tina in a small voice. ‘Yeah!’ said Kimba. ‘Look, it is dangerous being a Vador. Make no mistake every day of your life it is dangerous, you are being hunted by the Slime. I don’t want you to be under any false pretences so I’ll tell you now, being a Vador is very hard. We train every day, we work all the time. Often we don’t eat for days on end and when we go on a march we run for miles!’ She did her looking around trick again. ‘We are being hunted all the time, we can be attacked at any second: when we are eating, when we are sleeping. We have to fight for our lives against Warriors and Hunters and there’re the Stingers which hurt so much some of us scream with the pain.’ She paused again, ‘You sleep on the ground, you dress like this,’ she grabbed a bunch of the rough cloth shirt she wore. ‘And when you eat you are lucky to get a piece of meat or bread.’ She crouched down in her familiar pose and now there was complete silence in the cave. She let it grow and now the children could see tears in her eyes. When she spoke it was in a whisper: ‘I was thinking how to explain to you best what it’s like,’ she said. ‘There’re three words that keep coming to my mind: excitement, laughter and love. That’s what being a Vador means: excitement, laughter and love! The Kraal hunt us but we also hunt the Kraal and when we bring one of the Slime down there is nothing like it…nothing! You’re fighting to get our world back from these monsters! Two years ago Jessica took a Warrior on face to face and brought it down. ‘You laugh, all the time. Even when it’s at the most dangerous everyone is joking or playing tricks on the others and I say we go hungry and we do but then Craddock catches a deer and we have meat roasted over the fire and maybe Paula has made some of her cheese and Tara has still got some Gaart bread and in season there’s the apple drink and…and…and you’ve never tasted food quite like it because you’ve had to fight so hard for it.’ She rose to her feet and now she was crying unashamedly. ‘And all the time you feel this tremendous warmth all around from all of you because you are a Vador! Even from people you don’t really like that much you love them because they’re Vadors like you and you’d die for them. A year ago Tom asked for volunteers to go on a virtual suicide mission to rescue Jessica…do you know that every single Vador volunteered? Every single one! If I don’t escape, he’ll come for me, within the year, whatever it costs them because I am a Vador!’ And her voice thrilled with pride. ‘So, you can stay here, the Kraal won’t punish you if the rest of us escape and you stay on. They never do, like a farmer doesn’t punish his animals. You can stay a slave the rest of your life, it’s not so bad. Or you can come with me and live your life rather than give it away!’

Kingdom of the Kraal

Nicholas Walker — Mon, 31 Aug 2020 01:13:50 +0000

Zeke reached the tree line and ducked inside and they were safe then there came a whipping sound and a howling Zeke was suddenly whisked off into the tree tops. ‘Down!’ Tom rapped and this time they obeyed him instantly. Tom and Robba stared upwards, Zeke now the shock was over had managed to get control of himself but he was still gasping with fear. He was hanging by one foot from a vine high above their heads. Giggle Hook! And if to prove him right the vine above them started its high pitched giggling, just like a bunch of little girls. Giggle Hooks, another weapon bred by the Kraal especially for the Vadors. They lay dormant for months but the second they were stepped on they grabbed the foot and contracted massively hoisting the victim high into the tree tops out of reach of immediate help. Toby had been caught by one months ago and had dangled there for two days before a search party found him, he still walked with a limp. The giggling grew louder as though taunting them but what it was really doing was trying to alert any nearby Kraal. ‘Everybody up,’ Tom rapped. He pointed four times in different direction: ‘You, you, you and you: one hundred paces and keep watch. If you see anything then whistle the alarm.’ They went without a word. Tom glanced around, thank Heavens Robba was here. Robba, the best climber of all the Vadors. She was already unwinding a loop of rope from her waist. ‘That one, I reckon,’ said Tom and he drew his knife and it hissed across the small clearing and stuck quivering in a tree trunk. Robba was studying the tree tops all around, she gave a nod then she wrapped the loop of rope around her ankles, rested it against the tree trunk and went up it like a squirrel taking the knife with her. ‘The rest of you, we’ve got the worst job,’ said Tom. ‘Robba’s going to cut him free and we’re going to catch him. The six new recruits all gave sombre nods, the last half hour had done more to turn them into Vadors than any amount of training could have accomplished. Tom formed them in a circle around the rotating figure of Zeke above. He had taken the coil of rope from his pack and he criss-crossed it amongst the group so there was a lattice of rope to break Zeke’s fall. ‘Now, this is going to be very difficult,’ said Tom, ‘but you have got to stand firm and keep the rope very tight, lean back against it. If you turn and run then he’ll break his neck…you understand?’ Once again there came an almost concerted nod. Robba was in the tree tops already. ‘Ready?’ she called down. ‘Go for it,’ said Tom and she sawed at the vine. ‘Close your eyes if you can’t stand it,’ Tom said to his group. The giggling changed to a howl and then with a scream Zeke came plummeting down like a rocket and tore into the rope cradle, it was like catching a boulder coming off a mountain. Everyone was smashed to the ground and then there was silence for a moment. ‘Zeke?’ Tom demanded. ‘I’m okay,’ he groaned sitting up. ‘Anybody else hurt?’ Tom said getting to his feet. Everybody was groaning or rubbing themselves but everybody was getting to their feet. Tom risked a glance at Juda, the girl who had run, she was sucking her hands where the rope had cut through the skin. He turned back to Zeke: ‘Why can’t you watch where you’re putting your great feet?’ he demanded. Zeke was standing now, he started to laugh. Zeke was always ready to laugh. He held up his hand and passed it around the group for them to slap in a gesture of thanks. He got to Tom and they stared at each other for a long moment then all at once Tom gave him a hug. Robba came sliding down the tree like a monkey. ‘Do try not to do that again,’ she said. ‘It does so mess up my nails.’