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Many Happy Returns
Many Happy Returns
Many Happy Returns
Ebook42 pages39 minutes

Many Happy Returns

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“Haunting” Tangent Online.

Gemma wants out. A “Gester” for her pimp, Maddox, Gemma sells her body for unprotected sex with carefully-screened clients in a futuristic London. The resulting foetuses are aborted at five months to provide valuable material for bio-medical research and treatment. It’s good money, everyone’s a winner... despite the ever-present inter-gang rivalry that could get her killed any day. But the lifestyle is taking its toll, and though she thinks she can keep working till the end of her contract, Gemma is fast approaching burn-out. She's even planned a getaway from this dangerous life, just in case.

Then one night a stranger throws a birthday party for her, and her resolve unravels. Gemma decides to make a break for freedom. But can she? And will her veteran bodyguard, Walt, help her, or stop her?

Life, love and death have never been so personal... until now.

Many Happy Returns was originally published in Altair Magazine, August 1998, and described by Tangent Online as “...the best story of the magazine... The author's knack for characterization warrants a watchful eye for his future work.”

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJulian Boote
Release dateDec 17, 2011
ISBN9781466116795
Many Happy Returns
Author

Julian Boote

Julian Boote is an actor, author, screenwriter and filmmaker with a BA Honours in Film & Art from Reading University in the UK, with four feature film credits to his name in the roles of producer, co-screenwriter, and second unit director. Julian has recently returned to his first love; acting, and is thriving, working now in front of the camera. Creating stories has been a pleasure for him since childhood, and he hasn’t stopped, his current project being a novelisation of one of his feature scripts. He also writes short stories in his (copious) free time, including tales for children.

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    Book preview

    Many Happy Returns - Julian Boote

    Many Happy Returns*

    by

    Julian Boote

    *(With apologies to Tony Campolo)

    Copyright © Julian Boote 1998

    All rights reserved

    The right of Julian Boote to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

    Cover by Peter Bradbury

    First published in Australia in Altair Magazine, 1998

    Smashwords Edition 2011

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Discover other titles by Julian Boote at Smashwords.com:

    https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/JulianBoote

    I’ve sat still through the night, bathing myself in the glow of liquid crystal and candlelight. My mind, my flat’s mem-core have been locked in playback, remembering, recalling biological and digitised memories. Reflections of what was have passed before my eyes, blurred behind tears; Mum, white-robed and screaming, with figures in medical green swarming around her. I’ve wondered what the pain was like, how she could have endured it. The image is shaky, and a voice from behind the lens encourages her to keep breathing, to bear the pain, to squeeze me out into the world. It’s Dad. Of him there are few records; brief visions of the days before he left us, playing with a year-old me (the me he would soon refuse to know), smiling, pointing to the camera, taking my hand in his, waving both at the me I am now. Be they memories, or phantoms from static, I’ve re-run them all time and again, through the good and the bad, the unchanging, unchangeable-

    A harsh bleeping cuts through my reverie.

    It’s the Call. I’d been expecting it, but don’t immediately answer the ‘phone. Instead I stare at the screen, reading the caller’s number as it bleeps again, then again. Should I run? Scarper down the back way, grab the case from the locker in Victoria? Take that deliberately convoluted route to Heathrow? My mind whirls with fear and indecision. They’ll know something’s wrong if I don’t answer the phone...

    I wipe my eyes and pick up.

    It’s Josh and Walt.

    They’re on their way, should be at my place within half an hour. Not really interested in the time, I check the clock anyway. 6:30am. Thursday. I’ve remembered the night away.

    I rise from the sofa and shiver. I’m stiff and cold. Exhausted. The bathroom beckons. I call for lights, and go to freshen up.

    There is a chime, and the house tells me Walter and Josh have arrived. I check the front doorcam. Sure enough, the two are out front. I tell the house to allow them entry, then reach for the gun behind the dresser. House security can be broken. The image might be a replay from a previous visit, tapped into the system. Propping myself against the bedroom door frame, I take aim, and

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