Programme
Story List
Links
Members
Writers' Blog
Meetings are held on the first and third Tuesdays of the month at Dancox House Club Room, St Clements Gardens, St Johns, Worcester from 7.30 pm to 9.30pm.
If you want to know more about Worcester Writers' Circle, please telephone Sue Round, Secretary 01905 619062.
Probably the oldest writers' circle in the country, we have grown from half a dozen enthusiasts in the dark days of the Second World War, to a thriving and productive group of people who share their experiences, successes and pitfalls at each meeting. We have a wide range of writers, some published professionals, some occasionally appearing in magazines, and many newcomers eager to see their name in print.
At a normal meeting, we read from our work, sometimes on a theme set for the evening and we offer advice and reactions. A cup of tea and a chat of course, and discussions about markets, successes and rejections. Sometimes we have a speaker from amongst our ranks, or a guestjoining us for the evening. Our interests are wide - stories, Westerns, nostalgia, poetry, biography, roofing and cats have all featured at our meetings. If you can get to Worcester, (that's the one in Worcestershire, England) give us a try.
A Lovely Way to Go
by Angela Lanyon
At first we thought it was a satellite. It was moving so steadily among the stars on this clear cold night. Old Miss Trewin who had invited me to keep her company while her niece went up to London, lifted her binoculars.
`That's one of the advantages of living up here on the moor, you can see the stars.'
That was the only advantage as far as I could make out. The cottage was remote, not too warm and lacked the creature comforts I was used to. The ginger cat, Percy, wound his way between our legs seriously endangering the tumbler of gin and tonic that Miss T had put down on the flagstone path while she inspected the moving light. Suddenly it took off, literally at a tangent, and at an increased speed.
`Must be an aeroplane,' I said, `satellites don't do that.' I pulled my scarf more closely round my neck.
`No, dear, it's too far away. Maybe it's a UFO,' she cackled, bending down to retrieve the tumbler. There was sudden intake of breath.
`Are you all right?' I asked.
`Never felt better.'
`Maybe we should go back inside?'
`And miss the chance of finding out what it is?'
`Won't you get cold if you stay here?' I knew I certainly would.
Suddenly she cackled again, `Fool that I am, you're right, it is a plane. And what ever's it doing?'
I looked again. `Miss Trewin,' I said after a moment's thought. `Do planes flap their wings?'
`Must be one of these new experimental things - you get them over the moor. Nobody to see them.'
`Well we're seeing them.' After a further minute I added, `It seems to be coming closer.'
`Yes it does, doesn't it.' I was beginning to feel nervous but Miss T was displaying nothing more than her usual curiosity. I looked at Percy who flattened his ears and crept under the bench. `I wonder what it is?'
`Do you think it's going to land?' Stories of abduction by aliens and War of the Worlds flooded my brain and I felt an almost irresistible urge to get under the bench with Percy.
The thing which had been hovering in an uncertain way seemed to make up its mind; always supposing it had one, and was now moving in our direction.
`Perhaps they're lost' Miss T said brightly. `Poor things, I wonder where they think they are?' `Maybe I should go and ring the police?'
She laid a skinny old hand on my arm. `Not before I've found out what it's all about.'
Suddenly, almost abruptly there was something standing in front of us. I craned my neck back to try to discover where it ended. From my angle of observation the thing seemed to stretch to the clouds as if the summit were surrounded by stars.
There was a rumble of thunder, some coughing and then what in other circumstances I would have taken for a mumbled apology. `Miss Trewin?'
`Yes, that's me.' Miss T seemed not the least put out.
`Sorry,' apologised the voice again. `I don't think I've got it right.' The thing before us suddenly vanished. `Oh, dear, wrong again. If at first you don't succeed.'
`Have a gin and tonic,' said Miss T. brightly.
`I was thinking of dancers on the head of a pin but I'm not sure of the proportions. Now is that better?'
In front of us stood a rather immature young person who looked as if he would be happier selling woollen underpants in an old fashioned gentlemen's outfitters. He wriggled his shoulders in an embarrassed sort of way. `We've strict instructions on these occasions not to upset the local flora and fauna.'
`Young man,' Miss T 's voice was crisp with indignation in the frosty air. ` Are you referring to me as Flora or Fauna? My name's Edith to my friends and further more, all these shenanigans have upset my gin and tonic.'
The young man blushed then clicked his fingers. Miss T was now holding a pint mug, which appeared to be full of gin.
`You know,' she said, `you remind me of Ronald. He never knew when to stop either.'
`As a matter of fact?' the young man began.
She cut him short. `No you're not Ronald, so don't try having me on. Come in number seven, your numbers up. That's what this is about, isn't it?'
`Er? yes.'
`New to it, are you?'
`Er, yes.'
`I can give you some good advice if you care to listen?'
I tried to close my ears to what she was saying. Miss T had been dishing out good advice for the best party of ninety years. I feared the young man would never be the same again. `Well, that's it.' A cold hand passed me the binoculars. `Give me a wave, dear. Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye.'
I started to protest.
`No dear, enough's enough and I'm sure there'll be plenty of opportunities in other places.'
Fuelled with half a litre of gin I could tell there was no stopping her.
`Give my love to my niece. Tell her not to worry, the will's in the wardrobe.'
The hand that a moment previously had been light on my arm slipped away and there was a soft sigh like a summer wind. I looked up at the sky to see a small speck of light flittering erratically among the stars. No doubt Miss T was still dispensing good advice.
A lovely way to go, I thought as I picked up Percy and went indoors to phone the doctor.
Copyright © Angela Lanyon 2004