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Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 12 All the commotion at Ye Olde Inn disco had Chief Inspector Dobbs worked up and he could feel sweat dripping from his armpits. He yanked his bright yellow pullover over his head and exposed his Tower of London T-shirt. It was a present from his wife, and he hated it. "You're semi-retired and off duty," she had told him, "Time to get out of those stuffy cotton shirts." It also disclosed his Police Identity card, hanging around his neck on a piece of leather string. Off duty or not, he never removed it. After marrying in his old age, something he'd spent his life avoiding, he’d purchased a cottage at The Stables as a weekend retreat. "A place to relax and get away from the hectic bustle of your office in London’s East End," his wife had said. It seemed, however, that every criminal in the area used The Stables as a hideout. Alf and Bert over at the bar were two typical examples. Even Styles, the Inn's proprietor and owner of The Stables was a tax-fiddling crook. There was no such luxury as ‘Off Duty’ in his line of work: no wonder he hated it. Especially when he wasn't dressed properly. A riot had almost broken out on the dance floor, incited by a young hooligan named Dick Charmer and a frustrated old slag named Olive. Both were suspect villains. Like the excellent cop he was, he’d pulled the disco’s plug, restored order, and commanded the disc-jockey to play soft music at a much lower volume. The DJ's choice of melody, however, was deplorable and did little to improve his mood. “You, and you,” he said, pointing to the two troublemakers. “Get over here.” And if they gave him any lip, something he hated, he'd have them arrested and thrown in jail for the night. To be continued… 
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts. Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 11
With her hands behind Dick Charmer’s head, Olive planted her lips on his. And then it seemed all the girls on the dance floor wanted a part of him. They clawed at one another, trying to get to him and smother him in hugs and kisses.
Styles worried they might maim his contractor, hobbled into the mob and swatted the girls across their heads with his walking stick. “Get off him,” he hollered. “I need him to finish repairing the roof.” Another man drew away from the bar and strutted through the swarm. Semi-retired Chief Inspector Dobbs, short and chunky, wore a bright yellow pullover and a stern expression. When he reached the disco system, he pulled out the plug. At the bar, Bert had snatched his packet of peanuts from Alf. Now, in the sudden deafening silence, Bert's cry rang out. “Get your hands off me nuts.” All eyes snapped to the bar and a stupefied hush followed, as though everyone had seen lightning and were waiting for the thunder. Then, in the stillness, Olive's voice bleated. “Oh, Dick, I love you.” “Let go of me, you old hen,” screeched Dick Charmer. Heads swivelled back, just in time to see him push Olive so hard that she nearly fell over backwards. “Everybody calm down,” yelled Chief Inspector Dobbs, arms raised. “I know this is a farm, but you don’t have to behave like animals." Murmurs and giggles spread through the crowd, and with order restored, the inspector spoke into the disc jockey’s ear. The music started again: soft and snug this time. But the inspector had more to say; he aimed to give the instigators of the near-riot a strict word of warning. To be continued… 
Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them as my gift to you, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 10
At Ye Olde Inn disco, teenage girls flocked around Dick Charmer. The young roofing contractor danced with fluid sensuality, and the girls copied his erotic moves, hustling one another for best position.
Bert propped up the bar with his elbow, finished his fourth beer and scowled at his fiancé. Olive stood on the edge of the dance floor and faced the crowd with her back to the disc-jockey. From the look of determined concentration on her face she struggled to find the music's rhythm. Her limbs did scant more than jerk and twitch as if someone had tipped a handful of wiggly maggots down her neck. She'd dressed in black meshed stockings and perilously narrow miniskirt. Her blouse left little to the imagination, and her breasts wobbled like mounds of jelly on a plate. Bert thought she resembled a plump fried sausage bursting out of its skin, and her brazenness made his blood boil. Her arms, he saw, had finally found the beat—her fists pounded the air in front of her, as though kneading a mass of dough. Carrying considerably more pounds of flesh and flab than the teenage girls, Olive advanced on Dick Charmer, scattering the competition like skittles. When she reached him, she flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed her body against his. Bert slammed his empty beer mug on the bar and stuffed a handful of peanuts in his mouth. “Tonight,” he growled to himself. “Tonight there’s going to be a murder!” To be continued… 
Image by Hugo Hercer from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series.
On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published. Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 09
“Look at him go,” said Styles, tapping his walking stick to the driving rhythm and urging his stiff old hips to rotate like Dick Charmer's. “Dances like he’s got a weasel up his bum.” He slapped the cane across the bar. “Drinks all round." A cheer went up from all but Bert.
What’s the matter with you? Don’t be such a party killer!” Bert glared at him, jowls and eyes sagging. “What’s the time?” “What a stupid question to ask at a time like this. Why ask me?” “Because I lost me watch.” Styles blinked at Bert and then gawked at him. He'd envied Bert's watch, a flashy Rolex that had cost a fortune. “Tough! Where’d you lose it?” “If I knew that it wouldn’t be lost, would it.” Styles slapped his knees and cackled. “You got me there." Since Bert and Olive had engaged to marry, and Bert had moved to a house at The Stables, Styles had seen a lot of him at Ye Olde Inn. Bert was the biggest man he'd ever met, a blend of solid fat and steel-hard muscle. And by the looks of his face, you'd think he was a bogeyman: a fitting security guard for the neighbouring Cloud Mansion and Estate. "You on duty tonight?” “No, it’s Alf’s shift. Ain’t my turn until tomorrow afternoon.” “Cheer up then you grumpy bugger.” Styles chortled and shuffled his feet. He knew he could say what he liked to big man without him taking offense. It was only when you'd known Bert for a while that you saw his soft centre. Apart from the occasional brawl, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Put in jeopardy, he'd protect children, friends and animals with his life. “Seems like the devil’s got into the youngsters tonight.” Styles turned his attention back to the disco and waved his arms and walking stick in the air. “Never seen them having this much fun.” He whacked Bert’s broad back with his cane, raising a haze of glittery dust in the disco’s pulsating lights. “Go and dance with Olive. Aren’t you two engaged?” He smacked his gums and snickered. “She can’t dance to save her soul, but she makes me horny just looking at her. If she were my girl I wouldn’t be sitting here moping.” To be continued… 
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Dear friends, if you like a pleasant chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 08
Ye Olde Inn was seldom so crowded, and that meant lovely money. At one end of the long, narrow room, closest to the double entrance door, a throng of men crowded around the bar. Among them was Styles, the Inn’s owner. Bent with age, he cackled with delight and swung his mug of beer, thoughtless of how much he spilt.
Tonight was Disco night, and the dance floor throbbed with youngsters. Some had found their way from surrounding towns, but most were paying guests at The Stables, which Styles also owned, which meant even more lovely money. The girls swarmed to the Inn whenever his roofing contractor, Dick Charmer was present. The labourer had cost him a fortune, but little had he known that the guy's popularity would generate enough extra income to more than cover his extravagant expenses. Just then, Dick Charmer burst through the door, spread his arms, and whooped a greeting. The young girls on the dance floor screamed with delight, and the disc-jockey tweaked up the volume and switched records to a potent dance song. “A beer for the best roofer in the world,” shouted Styles with so much gusto that his false teeth rocketed across the room. “Phuck,” he said, snatched them from the grimy carpeted floor, rinsed them in his beer, and stuffed them back in his mouth. “No thanks, Mr Stables,” said Dick Charmer, never missing a beat as he bobbed to the irresistible rhythm. "I’ll catch one later. Cheers!” And with that, he whirled onto the dance floor. Shame, thought Styles, that this is his last evening. To be continued… 
Image by GraphicMama-team from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth. In the last post: Dick Charmer wanted to rest and eat. His neighbour, Olive, wanted to flirt...9/5/2020
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 07
Dick Charmer flashed an icy smile at Olive. She lay on a sunbed in the neighbouring garden, sucked a cherry from its stick, removed her sunglasses, and winked.
A frustrated old housewife, he thought. The Stables teemed with pretty young girls, stinking rich too, who were much more to his taste. He gave a half-hearted wave, stifled a yawn, and hurried back indoors to eat and rest. Today was Thursday, disco night at Ye Olde Inn. After weeks of hard labour on the terrace house roof, where he'd played loud music and cavorted for his audience of rich young girls, he knew they’d be desperate to dance with him. Later that evening, just as the last blush of daylight faded, he closed his front door and made toward the sound of music. It drew him like nectar to a bee. Tomorrow, he reckoned his work on the roof would be finished, but tonight, the time had come to harvest his booty. Luckily, the pebble road was dry after so many days of fine weather; his dancing shoes weren’t suitable for mud and soft dung. As he walked, his steps fell into time with the music’s beat, and his shoulders and hips began to swing and sway. He flexed his fingers and kissed each tip in turn. At the disco, he’d treat his doting fans to his best moves. To be continued… 
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth. In the last post: Bert's fiance, Olive, only had eyes for Dick Charmer, so Bert slouched away...5/5/2020
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 06
At five-o'clock in the afternoon, Dick Charmer climbed down from the terrace house roof. This is a strange place, he thought. Almost like stepping a hundred years into the past. They banned most motorised vehicles, and if you wanted to get about, you either walked or used a horse.
In ages past, it had been part of the Cloud Estate, a hamlet for the mansion’s servants and farm workers. These days The Stables was a private community for the privileged, especially pampered girls who owned their own horse or came for a riding holiday. Humping heavy slate tiles and buckets of tar and cement in the blazing sun had left him exhausted. His stomach craved food and he needed a refreshing shower and doze. While renovating the roof, The Stables’s owners had let him occupy the end terrace house, a three-up three-down affair, simple but adequate. He passed through the dwelling and into the kitchen, took a beer from the fridge, and wandered out into the generous garden. The house cast a blessed shade, but the air still hung on him like a heavy quilt. He glanced across the fence and saw Olive stretched out on a sunbed. She wore a pair of large black sunglasses and a yellow polka-dot bikini that was at least two sizes too small. “Hello,” she called and raised a champagne glass, complete with a cherry on a stick. "Care to join me?" To be continued… 
Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the complete story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 05
Bert looked down at Morris, born leader and gardener, whose head hardly reached to Bert’s chest. “Thanks, mate. You always know how to say the right things. Come to think of it, you don’t look so good yourself.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Morris kicked a stone and pressed his hands deeper into his pockets. “I thought my turnips would win the prize for biggest example this year, but they didn’t. It’s enough to make me want to hang myself.” “Yeah, me too." Bert hesitated before saying more. Morris wasn't the type to hang himself, and he'd miss him if he did. Best not to encourage him. Better to make him happier by giving a compliment. "You really cheered me up by saying Olive is a scraggy old hen that nobody wants—except me. Ain’t that right, Alf?” Alf, his best friend and colleague, shrugged and spat. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Bert. I’ve known Olive longer than you and she’s always been a floozy.” Not wanting to hear more, Bert slouched away. He squeezed between the dancing throng of ecstatic girls and tapped on Olive’s shoulder. “Cooee! It’s only me. Can I have a few words?” “Not now, Pet,” she said, never taking her eyes from Dick Charmer. “I’m busy. Maybe later.” Busy? Yeah, Bert knew she was busy all right: she'd pasted on make-up, fixed her hair, and drowned herself in pong; all for the sake of that showoff stud on the roof. Bert opened his mouth, but no sounds formed. Instead, he shook his head and plodded off home. To be continued… 
Image by Nina Garman from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 04
Bert, who had rushed outside straight from his bed, glared at the young man dancing on his rooftop. He saw how the young girls drooled over him as if he were a pop or film star. Even his fiancé Olive had started putting on extra makeup and taken to wearing her tightest clothes. “I think he’s a wanker, don’t we Alf,” he said to his best mate.
Bert looked down at his own massive body. A fully-grown male walrus might be proud of it, but not a gorgeous babe like Olive. Sadly, he could understand why she found other men more physically attractive, but she didn't need to make it so obvious. The way she'd joined the crowd and drooled over this randy newcomer made his blood boil. “You look ruffled, my good friend,” said Morris, the Cloud Estate's dwarfish gardener and self-appointed general. "Haven’t you slept well?” Bert’s best mate Alf laughed and punched his shoulder with enough force to bowl a normal man off his feet. “Bert’s worried about Olive. Thinks she’s gonna fall for that twit up there.” “Huh,” said Morris, hands in pockets. He rocked on his heels and swung his potbelly to the music's deafening beat, “no need to worry yourself there, Bert. Strutting cockerels like Dick Charmer are not interested in old hens like Olive. They prefer the adorable young chicks.” To be continued… 
Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 03
As the sun rose higher and its warmth drew sweat from Dick Charmer’s energetic labour on the roof, he tossed his T-shirt aside, turned up the volume on his boom-blaster, and took a couple of minutes to dance. As on previous days, a group of spectators had gathered. Most of them were rich young girls who giggled behind their hands, danced wantonly, and called to say they loved him.
But today a group of men had also gathered to see what all the fuss was about. Among them were the Cloud Mansion’s two burly security guards, Alf and Bert. In front of them stood semi-retired Chief Inspector Dobbs, who owned a weekend cottage at The Stables, and beside him Vicar Bitter who lived in the small, disused chapel’s vicarage. At the front stood Morris, the Cloud Mansion’s pint-sized gardener and self-appointed General, hands in pockets. “Yes,” said Morris, “I can’t find fault with his work. He’s made a good job of re-tiling the roof. Not so sure I approve of his modus operandi though.” “It’s a sin the way he carries on,” said Vicar Bitter, and crossed himself. Chief Inspector Dobbs tilted his head as if weighing evidence. “I’ll have my boys check him out.” He wrote a note in his notebook, dropped it into a pocket in his mackintosh, and then stabbed a finger at the hooligan. “I haven’t liked the look of him from day one.” To be continued… 
Image by GraphicMama-team from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth. |
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