Brotherly Love

My thriller novel Brotherly Love is now available as a paperback from www.createspace.com and Amazon. It is also available as an ebook for downloading to Kindle from amazon and from www.smashwords.com for downloading on all electronic readers, macs and pcs.

Ken Flood was an academic immersed in his work until that day he agreed to help his brother by delivering a package to London. Now he was running scared. Hiding from everybody. He did not know who were his friends or his enemies. Running and hiding, jumping at even long looks from strangers. Threatened on all sides but he had to turn to some friends. Where will it all end, he asks himself? Why did he think by helping his brother he was invoking the idea of brotherly love.

Charity Largesse

It shocked me to ear about the salaries taken out of charities by their executives. I thought charities were in business to help others not line the pockets of those who run them.
A parable from the bible sums this up: He looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury, ² and He saw also a certain poor widow putting in two mites. ³ So He said, “Truly I say to you that this poor widow has put in more than all; ⁴ for all these out of their abundance have put in offerings for God,^[a] but she out of her poverty put in all the livelihood that she had.
Somebody reaches into their purse and gives from their taxed income believing that they are helping the cause. Before any help is given out their money has to pay the £150000 a year for the top person. Where has the idea of giving time to a charity gone? How can these people sleep easily in their comfortable beds with full stomachs at night while less money goes to the good cause.
In my novel An Ordinary Life I explore the way in which people justify their actions no matter how dubious.
Money laundering is illegal. Even Tom Houseman knows that. He, as an academic, makes a distinction between helping somebody to set up legitimate business and the source of the money.In my novel I explore the way in which people justify their actions no matter how unacceptable.

The novel follows the life of Tom Houseman. From his early childhood on the edge of a hard council estate to eminent Professor with a worldwide reputation and great wealth. The story explores the manner in which most people regard themselves as honest and law abiding although there are times and circumstances when they ignore the rules of behaviour or of some moral code. These people justify their actions by ignoring their conscience or making excuses for their behaviour. In extreme cases they give the impression that morality is not an issue in their case.

Tom Houseman has a boyhood friend called Derek from the council estate and, though their paths diverge after junior school, he stays loyal to his friend. Derek becomes the right hand man of the criminal Mr. Big and introduces Edward. During his life, Edward accepts opportunities presented by his friends and his brother. These enhance both his standing in society and his wealth. All the time, he ignores and denies the moral and legal implications of taking advantage of these offers. As time passes, he has to accept the implications of his choices.

Will he finally have to face these hard decisions or will he sail serenely on living, to him, this ordinary life?

It can be purchased from Amazon as a paperback or for download for all electronic readers.

A Ceremony Of Innocence

My novel A CEREMONY OF INNOCENCE explores the relationships in a family one summer. Mrs. Brookes is so excited that her sons Mark and Jim will be on holiday at home together for the first time for ages. Mark, the eldest son, left home after his A levels to go to sea. He is now an officer serving on an oil company's tankers. His brother Jim has just finished his studies at university and has been awarded a first class degree. Charlie their father is a shop steward at the local shipbuilders. There is the threat of redundancies at the yard following the reorganisation of the shipbuilding industry in the country. Both sons have the reputation of being left wing but differ in their attitude to life. Mark grabs every opportunity for happiness even if that means compromising his principles or upsetting his family. Time at home is short and he is determined to enjoy himself. Jim is very serious about his left wing causes and adds his weight and those of other left wing friends to the workers trying to stem the threat of redundancies in the yard. From this is the source of friction between brothers and between Mark and his father. Mrs Brookes struggles to maintain a calm home with the increasing tension. This is the background to the explosion between the brothers made worse by Mark's friends being able to exert influence. The novel explores the tensions bubbling in a family caused by differing attitudes to the way in which lives were lived. 

This is available as a paperback from Amazon and for download from the Kindle store for all electronic readers.

The problems of Leadership

Archbishop Welby is learning the hard way about the problems of leadership whether in the church or other organisations. What he said was right about the sharks of the payday loan companies. It reminds me of when I was young and the loan shark sat in the back of the bar in a pub with his large brutal looking henchmen and dishout loans to people at exhorbitant rates of interest. Even if the gangster was pleasant there was always the threat of violence if the loan was not repaid. Of as much concern to the church and government should be the prevelence of adverts on TV for gambling. This ruins as many people as drink, breaks up marriages and increase those living rough. Three cheers for the Archbishop.
It reminded me of a chapter in my book Tales From The Sea about becoming the Captain of a ship. The Captain is in overall charge of the ship and responsible for all that happens on board. If there are any problems, he will have to take the blame and the punishment. The Captain cannot be running things all the time and has to delegate to other officers. The same applies to Archbishop Welby:

I joined the Arrow as Captain at Hayes Wharf where HMS Belfast is now displayed. In those days it was a cold store berth and the Arrow had a refrigerated hold. It carried bacon from Poland to London. Captain Moncur was pleased to see me and had everything ready for a speedy transfer of the ship. I signed all the papers, took charge of the safe keys and watched as the brass plate with Captain Gubbins replaced that of Captain Moncur on the cabin door. After seeing him down the gangway and into a waiting taxi, I climbed back on board realising for the first time that I was officially in charge of this ship.

I had to undertake all the tedious tasks that the master had to finish before the ship could sail.  Like seeing agents, office staff and some cases the police. The role of captain is not as glamorous as it appears to the outsider. The few hours before sailing besides the paper work, the master has to deal with all those people. Once they were all ashore, I was free to take over the navigating of the ship. This is how I remember that first time I went on the bridge of a ship as the Master.

After being called to the bridge, I adjusted my black tie in the mirror making sure that the knot was just right. The white shirt was pristine clean and my trousers newly pressed. Taking my jacket from the hanger, I mentally shone the four gold bands forming the diamond on the sleeve. Once in place, I fastened the gold buttons. Certain that this looked fine, I picked up my cap from the desk and adjusted it on my head. The new gold laurel leafs gleamed in the light streaming through the window of my cabin. The mirror showed that I looked the part of a ship’s Captain.

When I reached the bridge, the pilot was waiting. He congratulated me on my promotion when I joined him. He was the river pilot who navigated the company’s ships from Gravesend to either Surrey Docks or the London Pool.

“ Congratulations on your promotion. Are we ready?” the pilot asked.

“ All ready,” I replied feeling strange at giving the orders. “ We can sail.”

Over the radio, the pilot requested Tower Bridge to be raised. I stood on the bridge wing watching the red lights flash and the traffic coming to a standstill. The two halves of the bridge slowly separated and rose into the air.

“ Right Captain, we can go,” the pilot remarked with a smile.

“ Let go aft,” I gave my first order as a Captain of a ship and watched the ropes slowly come on board.

The pilot grinned. “ Slow ahead,” he ordered the third mate.

I stood and watched as my command slowly turned to take the stern away from the quay.

“ Stop. Half astern.”

The ship steadily left the berth until there was enough room to turn successfully into the river. I lent against the varnished rail making sure that the four gold rings on my arm were plainly visible to anybody who happened to be watching.

The rail flanking the road leading to Tower Bridge was crowded with people watching as we sailed closer to the bridge. I made myself conspicuous to the watching people, standing straight and proud on the bridge wing.

The ship sailed under the open wings of the bridge, the tracery of the ironwork above my head. Then we were out into the river with the entrance to Surrey Docks to the south and Saint Katherine Dock to the north. The ship picks up speed.

I instructed the third mate look after the pilot and went into the radio room to tell the radio officer to inform the company that we were out of the Pool of London and heading for Gravesend and the sea pilot.

The ship sailed serenely down the river passed the Royal Hospital at Greenwich and on to Gravesend. The steward brought coffee and cakes.

As we approached Gravesend, a launch set out from the pilot station jetty. The river pilot turned to me and said, “ Thank you Captain. I will see you when you return. The ship is all yours.”

As he left the bridge, I realised for the first time that I was in complete charge of the ship. The wheelman grinned at me.

“ Slow ahead,” I ordered the third mate. He moved the telegraph and I heard the bell ring. The engine noise softened as the ship slowed. The pilot boat manoeuvred alongside and I slowed the ship some more. The sea pilot climbed the ladder and the river pilot left. He waved to me as the pilot boat left the ship and headed back to the shore.

“ Half ahead,” I ordered and the noise of the engine increased after the third mate had moved the engine telegraph.

The sea pilot arrived on the bridge. “ Good morning Captain. I’ll take over now. Congratulations on your promotion.”

“ Good morning. I will be in my cabin if needed. The third mate will look after you. Call me when we are passing Southend pier.”

Reluctantly I left the bridge and went down to my cabin. For a while I engaged in the various administration tasks that any Master had to undertake when the ship left port.

The call came as the ship passed Southend. Looking out of the window I noted that the sun had gone and the mist had descended making all around appear grey and dull.

When I came back to the bridge, the second mate had taken over from the third mate. The ship was heading out to sea through the sand banks at the mouth of the Thames. The red bulk of the pilot boat could now be seen about ten miles ahead. The pilot ordered the course set for the ship to rendezvous with the pilot boat 

The pilot manoeuvred the ship so that the wind was on the side away from the approaching cutter. and slowed the ship.

“ An uneventful passage down the river, Captain,” he remarked. “ Hope you have a pleasant voyage. She is all yours now.”

He shook my hand and accompanied by the second mate left the bridge. I stood on the bridge wing watching as the pilot climbed down the ladder into the waiting cutter. When the cutter swung away from the ship and the sailor was pulling in the rope ladder, I turned and pushed the engine telegraph to full ahead.

“ Steer 075,” I ordered the wheelman and watched as the bow turned and then steadied. The second mate joined me on the bridge and worked out the position of the ship.

Looking round the ship from the bridge I found everything in order.

“ Its all yours, second mate,” I said and walked from the bridge.

When I reached my cabin, placed my cap on the top of the chest of drawers and my jacket on a hanger, it hit me. For the first time since setting out on a career at sea, I had nothing to do with the actual running of the ship. The ship would be navigated by the other officers and they would resent any interference from me. Even though I was responsible for the ship and the conduct of the voyage, many of these responsibilities had been delegated as was the nature of seamanship, to the rest of the crew. In many ways the captain is a distant figure who is in charge but not needed most of the time at sea. A figure in the background who could be called if there were problems but kept away when all was running smoothly.

I poured myself a gin and tonic and got stuck into the paper work promising myself that I would not keep looking out of the window. It was very hard to stop myself walking back onto the bridge to check on progress. In truth I would not be wanted anywhere near the bridge until we approached the pilot station off the River Elbe. When I got the call from the chief officer that we were approaching the Elbe River it came as a relief. I now had something to do other than sit and try not to worry. I came alive once more as the ship approached the pilot station. I gave the orders for the wheelman to take his station. Then I manoeuvred the ship so that the pilot could climb aboard.

Tales From the Sea can be downloaded to an e reader or purchased as a paperback from Amazon.

A Legacy from Mary - a thriller by Eddie Gubbins

My thriller novel A LEGACY FROM MARY has been published with Kindle. It can be downloaded from Amazon  for all e readers at a price equivalent £2.76.

Ken Flood was an academic and events in the wider world did not effect his life. Then his friends Joshua and Mary were killed. The only connection was a country called Mengambi, Joshua was a Mengambian and Maria untook short courses in the country. Suddenly Ken was caught up in the game of power excersised in Mengambi when he agreed to take Mary’s place teaching on the short courses in Mengambi. What he wanted to find out was if there was more to his friends deaths than reported. Can he survive the pressure from his employer in Mengambi and the request by his brother to gather information?

Speed Cameras

The debate on the enhanced safety provided by speed cameras has once again reared its head. Research has shown that the cameras reduce the death rate by an average 25%.

In 2008 I wrote this short story about sped cameras. I am quite happy for it to be reproduced as long as I am informed.

Connections!!!

by

Eddie Gubbins

They are pervasive! They are everywhere! They flash! They make money for the government! They are not fair! Nobody likes them! They are an intrusion into everybodies life! They are an echo of  Big Brother from “ Nineteen Eighty four!” They should not be allowed to get away with this!

So thought John as he changed into his black sweater and black trousers. As he pulled on his black jacket, his heart raced at the thought that he was going to stand up to this menace. By his actions this night, he and his friends would take one small step in ridding the world of these things. He did not have words to describe how he felt about their existence, creeping silently without notice along many streets on the edges of towns and cities. They must be eliminated and not allowed to proliferate like some alien species breeding their way to taking over the land.

Before leaving his house to join his friends, John crept into the bedroom where his daughter Lisa lay sleeping. He gently lifted the duvet and made sure she was comfortable. Lovingly, he looked down at at her young, innocent face framed by that shock of blonde curls. He bent down and kissed her forehead. At the door, he turned and took one last look at her face framed in the small night light she always insisted on having beside her bed. She was smiling in her sleep, looking for all the world to John like a little angel in a stain glass window.

Carol, his wife, was sitting by the fire watching the late film on television and drinking her bed time drink when he looked into the sitting room. 

She looked up, smiled. “ I will be in bed when you get back. You will be careful won’t you John?” 

John kissed her cheek and smiled in return. “ I am always careful when on a mission. See you later when I get back.”

John had to admit to himself that Carol knew what he was up to on those nights he left the house late. She never objected, never tried to stop him going out, merely told him, as she did this night, to be careful. Whenever he thought about it, John was never certain whether she approved of what he was doing or not. Deep down he understood that she let him get on with his campaign, avoiding any argument which might upset the domestic harmony and in doing so, effect Lisa. Before leaving his house, John picked up the package he had prepared earlier in the evening, checked the contents and stuffed them into his shoulder bag.

Outside the house, it was dim under the widely spaced street lights lining the road where he lived.  As he came out of his drive, the lights of a car parked further down the road from his house came on. Seeing this, John walked quickly to the car. As he approached, the car door opened and he got into the back, depositing his package onto the back seat. There were two men in the car, both like John wearing dark clothes.

“ A good night for it,” George remarked from the driving seat. “ Terry has the hoods.”

Terry grinned, his teeth white in the dim light. John took the black balaclava from Terry and placed it on the seat next to his bag. Once John was comfortable, George drove off towards the outskirts of the town. Near a cemetery and a park, George found a quiet parking spot, parked the car and sat watching the road. All was quiet. With a grin at the others, he pulled his black balaclava over his head, nodded to Terry and John and got out of the car. Terry and John followed, Terry carrying a folded light ladder, John a shoulder bag.

With George leading, they walked towards the main road, keeping close to the hedge which surrounded the cemetery. As they approached the main road, George held up his hand as a signal for Terry and John to stop. Looking up and down the road, George made certain that nothing was in sight. He shrank further into the shadows when a car came over the brow of the hill to his right and round the sharp bend in the road a hundred yards from where they stood. The car slowed quickly as it came towards the cemetery and passed the yellow box on top of a post near the edge of the road. There was no flash as the car sped away, before slowing at the traffic lights near the junction further down the road to their left.

Once all was quiet, George waved and the three men moved out of the shadows of the hedge and ran across the open space to the post. Terry assembled the ladder while George stood watch. John placed the bag on the pavement and arranged some cans and wires on the tarmac. Giving half of these to Terry, John climbed the ladder. Hurriedly, he placed the wires around the yellow box and attached the cans to the lenses and the cover for the camera film. When this was done, he reached down, took the rest of the stuff from Terry and attached this to the back of the camera. Sliding down the ladder, John lit the fuse as Terry folded the ladder away. George signalled for them to run and they quickly rushed into the shadow of the hedge by the cemetery. There was a wosh and suddenly flames engulfed the yellow box. 

At this, George turned away and hurriedly led them back to the car. As they approached the car, they peeled off their balaclavas and slowed to a walk as though they were three men returning from the pub. By the time they were back in the car, the glow had faded.

They laughed and applauded once back in the car, patting each other on the back. Still laughing, George started the car and drove back towards the main road. When they passed the camera, it was blackened and drooping and obviously not working. They could not help letting out another shout of joy.

“ One less for the money grabbing government to make money out of,” Terry giggled as they sped back to their homes. “ They should trust us motorists to drive safely without all this nineteen eighty four stuff. I know when I am driving too fast and always slow down.”

“ See you in the Royal Oak on Friday, John,” George said as John got out of the car. “ We can talk about which one will be next.”

“ See you Friday,” John replied as he shouldered his bag, waved to Terry and walked the few yards to his house.

All was quiet in the house, the windows dark. In the hall Carol had, as usual, left the light burning. John took off his coat and hung it on it’s peg in the hall before going through to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and stow away his bag. He sat for a while thinking about their campaign and how successful they had been so far. Though they had never tested his theory, he was convinced that most people supported what he, Terry and George were doing. Sighing, he rinsed his cup, placed it upside down on the draining board and went up the stairs. 

He looked in at Lisa. She lay on her back, her eyes tight shut, her blonde curls framing her face and a beautiful smile on her lips. Crossing the floor silently, John kissed her forehead and closed the door gently as he left her bedroom. Carol was asleep, curled up under the duvet one hand under her cheek, her face looking so peaceful in the light from the landing. John took off his clothes, slid into the bed by her side and kissed her gently on the forehead.

The sun was shining on the park making the grass appear more green than normal. The flowers in the flower beds gave a flash of colour and the ducks on the pond looked up in anticipation everytime anybody walked by. 

The little girl skipped along the path, her blonde curls bouncing on her head and a smile on her face. “ Look Mummy,” she called in an excited voice. “ The ducks want some bread. Did we bring any?”

The woman walking by her side smiled and reached into her bag. “ Here.I didn’t forget. Now you be careful of the water.”

The little girl with the blonde curls and washed out jeans, trotted across the grass to the pond. The ducks, as though they had been waiting for this moment all afternoon, came squawking and pushing across the pond to where the girl was standing. With an excited giggle, the girl slowly broke the slice of bread into pieces and threw them into the water. Her squeals of laughter were almost drowned out by the squawking of the ducks as they fought over the scraps of bread.

“ Come along,” the woman said taking her daughter’s hand. “ We have to get home to cook your daddy’s dinner.”

The girl smiled her angelic smile and skipped along beside her mother. They left the park and turned onto the main road by the cemetery. Getting to a place along the road where there was a traffic island in the centre, they paused to let the girl look right and left and right again just as her mother had taught her. There was nothing in sight. The girl looked curiously at the blackened yellow box drooping on its pole like some tree which had been struck by lightening. She did not say anything to her mother. They started across the road, then there was a roar as a car came up over the brow of the hill turning sharply right passed the camera. There was a squeal of tyres, the car bucked and rocked and then a sickening bang as the car smashed into the little girl and her mother. They did not have a chance. The car was travelling too fast in the knowledge gained from the email grapevine that the camera was inoperable. After hitting the girl and her mother, the car skidded uncontrolled and smashed into a wall by the cemetery. Silence descended, broken only by the blaring sound of the car horn. People came running, cars stopped and the smashed car was soon surrounded by helpers.

John followed the policeman down the long, dimly lit, concrete corridor. Their shadows stalked along the wall at their sides like ghosts accompanying Macbeth as he went to meet the witches. Their footsteps echoed off into dark side passages. John felt numb. He had felt numb inside ever since he had been called into the human resources director’s office that afternoon. A policeman had been standing there by the desk and as gently as possible had told him what had happened. 

At the end of the corridor, the policeman pushed open a door, asking John to wait. John stood by the door hardly hearing the rumble of voices from inside the room. After a while, the door opened and the policeman waved him inside. The room they entered was white tiled with a row of what looked like over big filing cabinets to one side. In the centre were two metal tables with white cloth covered shapes laying a on top.

A man in a white boiler suit smiled faintly at John and motioned him over to one of the tables. Taking hold of the white cloth, he gently drew it back. The blonde curls were now revealed framing a bruised face. The blue eyes were closed. John nodded trying desperately not to sob out loud. The man in the white boiler suit replaced the white sheet. Walking to the other table he lifted the white cloth. Carol lay her face bruised and puffy. John nodded and turned away.

The policeman held open the door to the room and led the way back down the corridor, the footsteps once more tapping their echoes down dimly lit side passages leading to the depth of the hospital. Their shadows accompanied them like the ghosts of John’s past come to heckle him.

“ If those idiots had not damaged that speed camera, the car might have been going slower and might have been able to stop.” The words of the policeman dropped into the lengthening silence of their passage along the corridor.

EddieGubbins: Cleaning brass!

EddieGubbins: Cleaning brass!: Hi everyone. Spent the morning cleaning brass. It look shiny and new when finished. It brought back memories of the time when I was a cad...