Tomorrow in Chideock.

I cut the hair at the nape of her neck. “There’ll probably be a bouncy castle, too,” she says. “At the church?” “No,” she says, suddenly serious. “Afterward, at the wake. But, yes, the way things are going, it won’t be long before the vicar is on the castle herself. Up and down, up and … Continue reading Tomorrow in Chideock.

Noah’s Wife.

Tammy is rattling. I’m not far behind her. She tells me again her feet are wet. I hear the grizzle rising in her voice as we come down on Derby Road in the morning rain. Wax Noyle and his rawboned daughter or his lover or whoever she is, shelter in a shop doorway. He wears … Continue reading Noah’s Wife.