|
|
||||||||||
| And here are 4 examples taken from the 30 in the book:- | ||||||||||
|
CLARE'S
HEELS |
|
|||||||||
|
Ms. DENNIS'S CRIMSON SHOES No one really knows whether Ms. Dennis really is a ‘Miss’ or a ‘Ms’ – throughout her professional life so far, no one has dared ask her – she is of such an age and demeanor, that it seems rude to enquire. Although everyone does wonder. She is known to live alone in a quaint little cottage at the end of Roriston Lane just as the little lane peters out and turns into the woods. Everyone knows that she lives there because, when she is not at school teaching or out on rare shopping trips, her little mauve Morris Minor sits just round the side of the cottage. And children, on their way to play hide and seek or to build treehouses in the woods will point at the cottage and whisper that she must be in there, as her car is sitting there too. But the children do not point and whisper to make fun or exclaim rude comments but whisper quietly because all the children respect her. Although there is always speculation from the children, their parents and her colleagues Ms. Dennis has never been seen with a man, she seems to be happy in her own company. Of course, that does not stop the stories from flying about – maybe she loved a man who had died, or perhaps she had unrequited love for a man or perhaps, men were not her ‘thing’ at all – but, it has to be said, no other women were ever seen visiting her cottage. Her clothes were never untidy, but she was definitely dowdy and restrained in her wardrobe, which always includes these constantly repaired crimson shoes. To everyone she is simply Ms. Dennis, who has always been perpetually, form mistress to the wayward children of 3C, the class into which all the slightly ‘slow’, clueless, or purely retrograde pupils go – the ones with little hope of academic success and for some, a greater chance of ending up, residing at ‘Her Majesty’s Pleasure’. The strange thing is, that at the start of the term, they go to 3C jeering, shouting and with 2 fingers stuck up in salutation at the confirmation of their status as ‘bad-uns’ - but, once in Ms. Dennis’ class, they are calm, quiet, and respectful. She does not wield a stick or shout, but quietly takes the register each morning and gets on with their lessons. Yes, many are ‘slow’ to learn but they feel that she respects them and in turn, given time and after a few ‘traumatic’ incidents, they all respect her too. Ms. Dennis never really frowns and usually always has a warm ‘inclusive’ smile and does her utmost to encourage children who are not academic but who are enthusiastic about sport or dance, like little Rosie who rapidly became her ‘star’ pupil. But she also has a stare, a deep piercing stare that can go straight to your inner soul and make you tremble and squirm. The stare is rarely seen, but once deployed on some careless pupil who has ‘forgotten their place and their manners’, the said recipient soon withers into quiet and humble acquiescence. Ms. Dennis – dowdy, quiet - respectful and respected - is, as a teacher, gold-dust. |
|
|||||||||
|
GORDON'S WINKLEPICKERS Gordon, or to give him his usual cognomen, ‘Gordon the Gland’, is proud of his reputation as a ‘bird-puller’, a legend on the dance floor and a man-about-town – at least that is how he thinks of himself. In reality, to his so-called mates and to the ‘birds’ he tries to ‘pull’, he is a bit of a joke. He has all the right gear – the drapes, the ‘DA’ hairstyle and best of all, his purple winklepickers – and he looks the ‘biz’. Gordon is tall, a good 6’4” and so he stands out above everyone else on the dance floor, the girls especially. It gives them the advantage in that his whereabouts on the floor is easily spotted and therefore easily avoided. He thinks he is king of the jive, but here his image falls apart – instead of displaying slick moves on the dance floor, his elbows go everywhere (and usually into the face of some unfortunate girl who loses sight of him and passes too close) and his lower limbs have minds of their own and no thought towards co-ordination – he is a disaster and the joke is, that he thinks he is so ‘cool’ – as Sylvia giggled, “if he’s like that on the dance floor, what’s he like in bed!? – you would end up in hospital after the foreplay!!” If Gordon is on the floor for a particularly fast number, most couples retire to the tables and sit it out, not wanting to end up like the poor unfortunates of previous ‘Gordon fast jive assaults!’ On one occasion, his moves were so diabolical he seemed to be deploying the scatter-gun approach to dancing with as many women as he could – there were limbs, shoes, the occasional wig (very embarrassing) and even a set of dentures (never reclaimed) flying everywhere – as Reggie put it, it was like Custer’s Last Stand! The amazing things was, as dancers were picking themselves up of the floor and reclaiming shoes etc, Gordon was seen to approach a table of girls, including Sylvia, who could see how the dance was going to go and had bugged out early from the floor to sit in relative safety at a table well away from the melee, and pronounce – “So which one of you birds is going to claim her prize then?!” Big smile, puckered lips, Gordon full of anticipation – it is said that you could hear the slap from the end of the pier! For all his bravado, poor old Gordon never has success with the girls - he never gets beyond the first dance and certainly never gets to dance that long slow intimate waltz at the end of the night. Some people are just not made for slick moves, either on the dance floor, or in bed – no matter how much they kid themselves - Gordon sadly, is to remain a jive virgin! |
|
|||||||||
|
TOMMY'S LITTLE BLUE SHOES Jenny held the little blue shoes in her lap and dreamt of Tommy’s father, Craig. The shoes had been given to her by her mum Cathy, who had had them many years, having bought them long ago for Jenny’s brother, who had passed away in his early years and never got to wear them. Cathy hated the fact that her daughter had given birth to an illegitimate child and when Jenny had returned from the maternity unit, Cathy had almost thrown the little blue shoes at her – “you have these – they were for a proper little child, born into a family and not some little bastard dragged into this world by your sluttish behaviour – you might as well have them, they are no good to me! I rue the day the good Lord took my little boy and let you bear a child. And where’s the father? You won’t say, he could be some alley cat putting it about all over the place!” With that she turned and slammed the door leaving Jenny, who had closed her ears to her mother’s angry and venomous words. To dream again of her love, Craig and what might have been. Throughout his grandmother’s tirade Tommy was deeply asleep in his cot - he was as good as gold and rarely cried – full of beaming smiles, just like his dad – his dad who he would never know and who died in that awful accident not knowing that he had a son – life seemed full of tragedy which is why Jenny had never been tempted to ‘get rid’ of her baby even though she was strictly underage. And her mother was partly right, the conception had been the result of a teenage fumble that went too far. But she had fancied Craig for a long time and surely, if they had gone out together properly, which Jenny was sure, given time, would happen, they would have ‘coupled’ anyway and got married and had hosts of kids? But a quick fumble that led to a knee trembler in the yard outside his mate’s house during a party was good enough – surely, he would not have done it with anyone else? Before the party, Jenny had been a virgin – oh a few boys had got as far as a hand up her skirt which she had quickly brushed away but, apart from that she was ‘intact’. And Craig was the first lad she had ever slept with – well, ‘slept with’ was the polite way of describing what had happened! Anyway, it meant she definitely knew Tommy was Craig’s son and you could tell anyway, Tommy had Craig’s eyes and that same cheeky grin. Jenny had stood at the back of Craig’s funeral – just another one of his school chums – so Tony and Gloria knew nothing of her – she had just not been able to go up to them after the funeral with her ’bump’ and say “Hi I’m Jenny and I am carrying your grandchild” - she thought they would think she was after a handout – and even though she had heard how Craig’s parents had fallen apart after his death, she just didn’t know how to approach them. |
|
|||||||||
|
|
||||||||||
|
Shameless Shoes can be purchased in 3 formats:- |
||||||||||
|
||||||||||
