Robert Hugill

'Cooee' is correct. Yes Gus is in his mid-40s, perhaps slightly younger.

Do you know the piano’s on my foot? “‘Do you know the piano’s on my foot, Dad?’ ‘You hum it, son, and I’ll play it.’” Gus was a joker. Any awkward situation, any silence, and he filled it. He didn’t even seem to worry whether his audience found his stories funny. We’d already had the-actress-and-the-bishop (more than once) with plenty of funny voices, and a shaggy-dog story that began, “Did I ever tell you about the time…?” To which the answer was “No”, because we’d not spent that

Charlie & his present It was meant to be funny, to make him laugh and cheer him up. But when you came down to it, we were back to celebrating that ‘Ding-Dong, the Witch is Dead’ but the witch had been someone’s aunt. I had taken the climactic scene from Lewis & Charles and rather tweaked it. Lewis and Charles were still watching the death of the witch, her familiar just a wisp. But now there was Sarge, the dog, dashing on with Gloria following him. All the characters were t

Introducing Lewis & Charles “And how’s the shitting commune?” Eileen was making us tea. We’d had a successful meeting about Chrys & Ralphie 4, most of which was now out of my hands, barring any last-minute changes. There had been a lot of back and forth about the title, as Chrys & Ralphie in the Country (which had been my working title) hardly cut it—at least, according to Eileen. But we had these discussions all the time, and it’s what kept things lively. So Chrys &am

Probably an attempt at a Cornish accent!

What about this 'nightmare' version:

I should have made more of it but Louis makes a comment about my grandfather's axe: "I’d never thought about canal art before, or whatever it was called: the rather lurid folk-art style that traditionally decorated the canal boats. All of this stuff was modern, of course, as boats needed constant maintenance. We were looking at the visual equivalent of a modern-day folk singer performing a traditional song, something old and something new at the same time. Or perhaps my grandfather’s axe. "

Canal boat diaries The day was one of constant drizzle. It wasn’t so bad in the car to Northampton. However, after we parked, we got properly damp as we transferred to a bus. And from the bus windows, the weather made the nether regions of Northampton look even less desirable than usual. We were having an outing planned by Tom. Ian was working, so it was just the three of us. The day was to be a surprise. All I knew was that it involved a walk along a canal, ending with something

I've never really thought of this story as a 'romance' as such, so was rather tickled to find it at number 7 in Top 10 Most Read Romance in the last month

Graham is arrested “Fuck, they’ve arrested Graham.” “Your Aunt Daphne’s Graham? What for? As if I couldn’t guess.” The local papers only came out weekly, but their websites were usually worth glancing at. We had got into the habit since our own brush with notoriety, in case anything else came up. Charlie peered intently at the article on his phone. “Doesn’t say much.” He frowned. “A list of things: money laundering, corporate espionage. No real detail.” “Nothing c

The Martinson/Masterson thing was an entire accident not intentional. On the revision list!

Culprits “Well done, all of you. Though it did take rather a long time.” The DI eyed them all with a steady glare. DI Indira Vai was tall, slim and whip-cord fit. She looked to be in her late 40s, her thick black hair kept up in a tight chignon. Her skin reflected her Indian heritage: though if asked, she would always say with laugh that she was a bit of a mongrel. Habitually dressed in practical blouse and trousers, she was brisk and focused, fair but feared. Once, two of her te

And no. 9 in Top 10 Most Read General Fiction in the last month. Thanks to everyone for continuing the journey. More thrills and spills to come.

Occasionally. But with strict boundaries Sunday morning, Charlie was on a job and Ian was at work. The sun was shining, so I took my coffee into the front garden to admire Ian’s handiwork. He had certainly put in a lot of work. And whilst things would take time to settle and bloom, it was already looking more like a well-tended garden than somewhere forlorn and forgotten. Tom appeared, also coffee in hand. “Ian’s made a nice job of it, hasn’t he?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “Yo

Family Matters “How did you get on?” “Oof.” Charlie sat down heavily on the sofa. “Strong drink needed.” He grinned. “You weren’t that long.” He rolled his eyes. “Felt long enough.” “What happened?” “You were right. Took all of two minutes to hand those over.” He nodded towards the two envelopes he had deposited on the coffee table. “What else did Graham want?” “Only grill me about Aunt Daphne’s case.” “You’re bloody joking! After last time?”