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    Grind
    Grind
    Grind
    Ebook142 pages2 hours

    Grind

    By Shaun Shanks

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Sam decides to give up the city and move to the country. He buys Ridge Cottage on a hillside overlooking Henderson's Yard, and plans to renovate it and turn it into a hostel for climbers and cavers.
    Frank Henderson also wanted the cottage but was priced out by Sam and resolves to make life difficult for the incomer.
    Frank has another reason for wanting Ridge Cottage. A personal reason that drives him on to the point of confrontation.
    Sam is ready for the fight and is determined to stick it out, even if it means losing his family and sanity.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherShaun Shanks
    Release dateFeb 8, 2012
    ISBN9780955704413
    Grind
    Author

    Shaun Shanks

    Cinematic realism is the objective.

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      Book preview

      Grind - Shaun Shanks

      GRIND

      Shaun Shanks

      Copyright Shaun Shanks 2010

      Published by Read-Raw Publications

      Smashwords Edition

      1.

      Henderson

      The dogs started barking out on the lane and I looked up from the engine and wondered what the commotion were. Be a rat, I decided and stayed at the motor. I had the rocker cover off, getting the Caddy ready for her big day and half-watching the telly I’d rigged up on the bench. I ran a thumb over the camshaft and rubbed the oil between me fingers. It were clear and felt as smooth as syrup. No water in it. I put the lubricant up to me nose and sniffed. A faint gassy whiff hung on it. I dabbed the oil on me lips, tasted it on me tongue, and then spat it out. There were a trace of petrol in there and I knew I’d have to check the rings before it went anywhere near a church. As I dropped the bonnet an ache burned in me guts, and I rubbed at me belly. There were a spot just above me belt line that felt raw. I’d been suffering from a dose of the fa-lals ever since they told me about the wedding plans.

      … Not asked me, mind … ruddy-well told me …

      Wafting her ring in me face with Jacko slouching next to her all cock-sure and nervous giggling, like it were proper grown up man stuff and at the same time a bit of a laugh. It were all I could do to keep me eyes on the telly and me hands on the arms of the chair and mutter a word of congratulations. The truth were I wanted to jump up and lamp the pillock in the face.

      … By the hell, I were a feeler gauge away from it … a feeler GAUGE! …

      Later on, when we were alone in the kitchen, I collared her.

      ‘I only wish ye mum were here to see ye wearing the ring,’ I said, sugaring her up before saying what I really wanted to. ‘She’d be proper made up, she would.’

      Angela smiled and held her hand out and studied the diamond.

      … A speck of glitter … clinging for dear life to a strand of gold …

      ‘Must o’ cost him a few bob,’ I said, but then couldn’t help me self and added, ‘nowt more, mind.’

      ‘It’s worth a lot to me,’ she hit back.

      There were no point beating about the bush as she knew what were coming so I went straight in.

      ‘What’s the rush? Save up some wally and see how ye get on,’ I said.

      ‘Getting on fine,’ she said. ‘Looking for a flat in town,’ she said. ‘Need us own place,’ she said.

      ‘For crying out loud, get yer head out of the clouds and clock on, will ye? Yer only just turned eighteen and he’s nowt but a kid himself.’

      ‘How old were you when ye married me mum?’ she snapped back, ready with the question and already knowing the answer.

      ‘That were different.’

      ‘Funny that,’ she said, all sarcastic like.

      ‘Nowt funny about it,’ I said, looking at her belly for signs of swelling.

      After a few more sharp words she told me that they were getting wed no matter what.

      … With or without her father’s blessing …

      William

      It was advertised as a stone cottage with three acres and a view across the Cheshire Plain. As we approached the site it was obvious that the house and the outbuildings were derelict and the land was little more than rock and gorse. The ridge ran along the back of the property and the cottage clung to it for protection against the elements.

      I groaned. ‘Is this it?’

      The fact that I actually stopped the car told him I was still interested. The estate agent played the game too, agreeing that the place was a ‘bit of a project. In need of some TLC,’ he said.

      ‘And money.’

      ‘Not for everyone, I grant you.’

      For a few moments I leaned down over the steering wheel and studied the property. ‘As I’m here,’ I sighed.

      When I glanced up at Bracegirdle he had a look on his face that said, I reckon I’ll see you at the auction. Bidding at the sharp end.

      I opened the car door and it was yanked back by the wind.

      ‘There’s talk of putting turbines along the top. Perfect for it,’ he said.

      I remained silent. The wind was loud. The bushes were growing on the bias.

      We ducked inside the cottage to get away from the shredding wind. The rooms had some original features but the beams were rotten and the window frames were either missing or smashed. Graffiti was sprayed on the walls and beer cans and pizza boxes littered the floor next to an old armchair and car seat. A filthy mattress in the centre of the room had a dark stain in the middle of it, like dried in blood or some other discharge.

      Bracegirdle waved a dismissive hand at the mess. ‘Kids.’

      The estate agent’s hair was inky black and his teeth a wall of capped white, but I got the feeling there was little black and white about the way he operated.

      On the way out of the cottage I stopped in front of an ancient fuse box and flicked the mains switch. It snapped down with a clunk but nothing happened.

      We left the cottage and headed for the barn at the side of the lane. The doors sagged and the interior contained rusting machinery. Tea crates. Bales of wire. A smell of grain mold. The sky was visible through a hole in the roof and a crow hurtled across the gap, flung by a gust.

      Bracegirdle swept his hands out and around. ‘Lots of potential here.’

      I said nothing.

      In front of the barn the land fell away and we walked down the hill and around the perimeter of the property. The fencing was in a poor state and some of it was missing completely. The boundaries were unclear, but that could be fixed.

      I was looking for a place to renovate and open as a B&B for ramblers and climbers and cavers. I closed my eyes tight shut and then opened them to try and visualise living up on the ridge. The odour of Pennine earth. The push and pull of the wind. The craw of the crows. And then there was the cave. The plans showed that there was one located on the edge of the land and being a caver it was a big draw, but I didn’t mention this to the agent.

      The hole was partially concealed by gorse and ferns at the foot of the hill, and I could see that the entrance had been sealed. The rock was covered with lichen and there was a small vase on the ledge holding a floppy flower.

      ‘What’s that?’ I asked, indicating the vase.

      ‘Dunno,’ Bracegirdle said. ‘Be them kids.’

      I picked up a stick and while the agent checked his phone for coverage I poked at the seal. It crumbled at the edges.

      ‘I’ve seen enough,’ I told him.

      In the car he asked me directly if I was going to be at the auction.

      ‘No,’ I said.

      He grunted and clicked his pen in and out as I accelerated along the rutted lane. After a series of jarring bounces his hand reached out and gripped the door handle.

      H

      Shafts of sun were slanting through the door cracks and flickering with dust motes. I tossed the ratchet into the toolbox and wiped me hands on a rag and wandered over to the garage doors. And there she was, sunbathing next to the ambulance and listening to her music and rubbing lotion into her chest, like she were basting a turkey. Her body were all plump and bouncy in a way only a country girl could be.

      ‘Better than them city birds,’ I told her when she moaned about the size of her backside. ‘Starving themselves to death to get in them pamphlets. All chicken wing arms and placcy teats.’

      A fly landed on me cheek and crawled around until I batted it away. After the rain the air were thick with heat and clouds of bugs were rising up off the land.

      Without looking round Ange pulled her bra down till her udders popped out and I had to clear me throat to let her know I were there, but she had her headphones on and were deaf to the coughing. It were only when the truck dogs got wind of me and started barking that she turned round to find me checking the hinges on the garage doors. By the time I’d finish the inspection she’d covered up and I went over and stood next to her.

      ‘Ye’re in me sun,’ she whined.

      ‘You’ll end up looking like an old boot if ye dunna watch it.’

      She waved me away and I shuffled to the side, mopping the sweat on me neck.

      ‘Where’s Jacko?’

      ‘Work.’

      ‘That what ye call it?’ I sniffed, and stared down at her.

      For a second she looked back at me and then sat up in a huff, mumbled somet’, pulled her knees into her chest and glared at me in a way that said, stop gawping.

      … Like I were ogling her or somet’ … me own daughter! …

      I turned to the ambulance and peered in. Jacko were working on it, converting it into a motor caravan, and I could see some of me best tools slat on the deck, like he didn’t give a monkey’s for them. I opened the door and picked up the drill. It still had the bit in the chuck and I were that irritated I leaned down and rammed it into a cupboard and scraped the panel.

      … Motor caravan? … Port-a-loo, more like … a ruddy wheelie-bin …

      ‘When’s he going to be finished?’ I asked her.

      She ignored us.

      ‘I said, when’s-he-going-to-be-finished?’

      Her face scowled up and she lifted a headphone away from her ear. ‘Stop having a go, will ye?’

      Jacko were supposed to be doing it up for resale and using the money for the honeymoon, but I soon cottoned on they had other ideas. Sure enough, it came out that they were going to have their honeymoon in it.

      ‘Up Scotland way,’ she declared.

      ‘Oh aye, he’ll like it north of the border,’ I said. ‘Him being so tight-fisted.’

      She didn’t like that but didn’t bother to argue because in her heart she knew it were true.

      … Ebenezer had nowt on that one …

      Me, on the other hand, being a generous fella, let him park the vehicle in the yard so that he could do it proper and keep the lowlifes from stripping it in the street. And how did he repay us? By wrecking me tools and using the thing as a love nest as soon as me back were turned. I were of a mind to tell him to sling his hook, but fathomed they’d only do a flit if I came that one, and I didn’t want that.

      … No, sir … I didn’t want ‘em tramping the country like a pair of pikey inbreds …

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