Mike Arram
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Everything posted by Mike Arram
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Danny Hackness sat once again in his own bedroom in Castringham Crescent and found it an alien place. It had not been a happy homecoming. He probably had not helped things along, either. He had stiffened when his mother went to hug him, and had simply stared coolly at his father, who would not meet his eyes. His sisters had hung back and his brother was not at home. He had walked through them and gone into the kitchen and put the kettle on. ‘Tea anyone?’ he had asked, in the authentic British re
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'don’t know what the other brother is like but I’m not encouraged ...' Big brother is called Lewis, who ran away to the army, so you may have hit the nail on the head there, FanLit. The guy needed to get far away from his parents ...
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Something changed that day. Nathan came home to find Damien sitting on Justin’s lap watching children’s TV, while Justin hugged his little boy. It was ‘Dad this’ and ‘Daddy that’ now. ‘You were there for him,’ Nathan said with a smile that night after it had all been explained. ‘You didn’t let him down like other adults have. He’s been desperate for someone to trust and love. He’s found you. He’s found his dad.’ ‘Iss a bit awesome. It was easier when we were at war. Now there’s a terri
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‘So what do we do?’ wondered Danny, as he and Gus were clearing the dining room after a corporate banquet that night. ‘There is the question as to whether we should do anything at all, Danny.’ ‘We can’t just leave it.’ ‘We are not PeacherCorp employees, just temporary hired hands in a conference centre. We are not security consultants. We are not Terry O’Brien. Although we do have his phone number, the priority one which costs nothing even from abroad.’ ‘So Gussie, I take it
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The brassy sky lay hot and heavy over the Marais. Even the birds couldn’t find the energy to take to the sky. They sheltered, hidden in the lower branches of trees, from the remorseless July sun. But Danny Hackness nevertheless was on his knees in the borders of the grand jardin, weeding. He concentrated his efforts, it has to be said, on the part of the border where spray from the fountain drifted towards him. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, along with a wide-brimmed straw hat to protect his neck
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Andy and Matt stared at Justin across the dining table. ‘Damien said his best friend was called Gussie?’ exclaimed Andy. ‘Not just that, but I went back to the file Mike Mason gave me, and there it was. The so-called eighteen-year-old who interrupted the bastard beating up me son was Daniel Hackness. Daniel and Gussie. Damien and his mum were living in the same smelly hovel as our two. Not only that, I’m pretty sure the kid called “Steve” who tipped off Mike was our Danny, from the descrip
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There were no more visits to the hospital, not because the boys did not want to see Damien again, but because other visitors were appearing at his bedside whom they did not want to meet. They were alerted to this when the local paper mentioned that Sir Andrew Peacher and his partner were staying at the Regal. Gus went and lurked in the Victoria Gardens opposite the Regal, hiding behind a pair of Danny’s shades. He reported that he had seen Matt White coming out of the hotel and had nearly w
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It was not really Gus’s fault that he blew up a petrol pump. It could have been worse, as he said. At least it was the isolated pump in the corner of the forecourt. Even so, the column of black smoke rose half a mile in the air, and it took six fire tenders to get the blaze under control. He was sacked on the spot without a hearing, which he thought was just a cheap way to get rid of him for all the other little dissatisfactions they had with his work. ‘At least you left with a bang, Gussie
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Something kept nagging at the edge of Danny’s mind all the rest of that day. There was a little alert-light flashing in his memory. He couldn’t remember what on earth it might have been, but he knew it was there. It was really annoying. When he finished his shift at CostFayre, he was to meet Gus on his forecourt and walk with him into town. Danny found his grubby-looking boyfriend hosing down an oil spill from a tanker, his thick bangs of blond hair lank and hanging in his eyes. The young a
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Good point. But the slimy James is more amoral than homophobic. He’d use any means of getting at people. It’s bullying he does. He’s happy to force victims into blowjobs, as we’ll see.
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Justin’s bags were in the hall downstairs. He was booked to fly out to a new contract in Japan the next day. They were in bed dozing together in the afterglow of a very passionate session of intercourse. Nathan groaned when the mobile went at the bedside. Justin would not turn the damned thing off. Justin reached over and groped for the phone. He flipped it open and grunted hello, then abruptly sat up and listened for quite a long time. After signing off he flopped back next to Nathan, who
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‘No news?’ Nathan asked a pensive Justin over the breakfast table at Haddesley Cottage. ‘News about the boys or about Damien Macavoy?’ ‘Either or both.’ ‘The police actually pushed the boat out on Danny and Gus’s disappearance, since Gus’s dad’s a member of the police authority. They tracked them to Ipswich station, where they bought tickets to York. But the transport police at York drew a blank. They may not even have gone that far, but ducked off at Peterborough or Newark. There
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When Justin returned to Haddesley on Monday morning, he was bemused to discover the place like an anthill. A police car was parked at the main entrance to the Hall. He dumped his bag at the cottage and went over to the centre, where he found Nathan on the till, instructing a new girl he did not recognise. ‘Whassup, Nate? Why’re cops everywhere?’ ‘Gus has gone missing. Aunt Rosalind is trying to kid herself that it’s a kidnapping so she doesn’t have to face the truth, ‘cos young Danny H
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Leeds Station was rather different from what Justin was expecting. But then, everything on this trip was different from what he had expected. When the train had passed the River Trent and officially entered the North of England, Justin had been surprised not to find the landscape giving way to tundra and bare slate. There were lots of trees, and not a polar bear to be seen. Wakefield and Doncaster had looked like ordinary towns, no mineshafts and few chimneys. No women in clogs and shawls. Someo
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Justin had no intention of just turning up unannounced to see Sammy Jo and Pearl in HM Prison Holloway. He got his office to locate their solicitors and went to them instead. He briefly explained his predicament and asked if he could arrange an interview with Sammy Jo. He remembered her all too well as the girl who had given him his last straight blow job. He had no respect for her talents in that department, but at least he was sure she would remember him. He arrived at the grim prison at
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The Seven Sisters Road on a wet Thursday afternoon in June had too many memories for Justin Peacher-White. For a long moment he was once again sixteen-year-old Justin Macavoy, truant, delinquent and petty criminal. He felt briefly again the seedy charm of a wild and uncontained street life: shoplifting, boozing and shagging any loose slapper who would open her legs to him. There had been quite a few of those. They had found him a cut above the usual street chav, cunning, fearless and a right l
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Justin had only been home a week when Nathan began to notice something different about him. They had gone shopping at the Waitrose supermarket in Ipswich, and as Nate was filling up their trolley with the junk food he could not wean Justin away from, he saw his partner chatting and laughing further up the aisle with a young mum. Justy had picked up and was holding a small boy who had fallen down and hurt himself while his mum was tangled up with a demanding baby. Nathan was struck by the express
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Justin cuddled into the broad chest of his lover. Their reunion had as ever been glorious, leaving them exhausted and Justin, for a while, perfectly content. Nathan kissed Justin’s thick black hair and enveloped him in a powerful but gentle embrace. Justin sighed. ‘I love you, Nate. I miss you so much when I’m away, I doan know why I bother goin’ any more.’ Nathan chuckled. ‘It’s the call of the sleaze, chavvy babe. You can’t give it up. You love the low life too much. Besides, you’
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It was dark backstage. Although Justin could not see much, what he could hear left nothing to the imagination. Gasps, grunts and groans told him that Cody was at it again. The singer had this thing about getting his end away before going on stage. It was a bit like Mussolini before a speech, as Justin’s dad Matthew had told him with a grin. Matt always had a historical parallel. Somehow, Cody the Creep never had any trouble finding a girl who would open her legs to satisfy his urge. Justi
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Justin Peacher-White has it all, a partner, lifestyle and job to die for. But as a street kid he put it about a bit, and now finds he has a small son. Justin determines on finding the boy, and is far more successful than he and Nathan are quite ready to cope with. For Damien Macavoy is no ordinary child.
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Actually there’s more to come. I couldn’t leave these characters alone. Next up, the story of Justin and fatherhood. 😏
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Henry dumped his bags in the lounge. He was so very glad to be back in Finkle Road. It was normality. He looked around. Memories of Gavin were everywhere, but they didn’t depress him. A small smile played around his mouth. ‘Where are you baby?’ he queried softly. When he went up to what had been their room, he stared in astonishment. Gavin’s clothes and books were all gone. There were none of his possessions to be seen, only an envelope lying on the bed. Henry opened it gingerly. It was in
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Actually the fat lady has not yet sung. Loose ends still to be tied.😏
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It was Sunday, and the bells of Strelzen were ringing out for mass in its many churches. Henry was sitting in his room in the private wing of the royal palace. After Helge had shared the news of what had happened at Terlenehem with a few selected friends, the king had insisted on Henry's staying with him. ‘Henry, you really have done it this time. You have exercised your courage on a cosmic stage. Do you think I can let that pass, even though it cannot be acknowledged publicly?’ The cour
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The darkness of the tunnel was not so absolute when Henry and Terry penetrated beyond the entrance. There was enough light for ferns to survive, growing out of the damp walls. Ten yards in they came to a junction, with tunnels leading off to left and right. Above them they could barely make out a low brick dome. At first all seemed silent, but as Henry listened, he heard a distant rip and crunch echoing down the walls from the left. He and Terry moved silently across the sanded earth floor
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