He was the most extraordinary man I ever knew – Basil Rose – extraordinarily ugly, to the extent that it was almost sexy, in a bad, guilt-inducing sort of way. He was the crime reporter for the local daily and I was ditto for the County-wide weekly. On this occasion we’d met – in a professional capacity - down at the docks, each having received a tip-off about the newly-discovered body there.
Bad news sells better than good, we both knew that, so we were confident that our stories would appear on our respective front pages; we were now angling for the inside details, wanting the ear of the most knowledgeable detective now on the scene. As luck would have it there were two – one male and one female and for once there was no competition: my smart appearance – from the top of my well-pinned, tiny black-bowed chignon to the tip of my well polished patent leather shoes - appealed to DI Flanagan, inevitably known as Bud, while Baz’s scruffy sexiness won the day with DI Susie Rambler.
What neither of us could have foreseen was the theft a couple of hours later, of some drawing from the local art gallery – a pretty miserable little pencil drawing, if you ask me, of an old bloke by that van Gogh 'Sunflowers' chap – he called it ‘Grieving' but believe you me it was nothing like the grief we both felt when our stories were relegated to an inside page.
Bad news sells better than good, we both knew that, so we were confident that our stories would appear on our respective front pages; we were now angling for the inside details, wanting the ear of the most knowledgeable detective now on the scene. As luck would have it there were two – one male and one female and for once there was no competition: my smart appearance – from the top of my well-pinned, tiny black-bowed chignon to the tip of my well polished patent leather shoes - appealed to DI Flanagan, inevitably known as Bud, while Baz’s scruffy sexiness won the day with DI Susie Rambler.
What neither of us could have foreseen was the theft a couple of hours later, of some drawing from the local art gallery – a pretty miserable little pencil drawing, if you ask me, of an old bloke by that van Gogh 'Sunflowers' chap – he called it ‘Grieving' but believe you me it was nothing like the grief we both felt when our stories were relegated to an inside page.
This was Baz Rose's first appearance on Thinking Ten on September 26th 2010, a canvas/capstone response, i.e. ALL the week's prompts plus the Saturday picture.
http://www.thinkingten.com/profiles/blogs/grieving-too-bloody-right-we
The comments thereafter make the point that T10 is another excellent place to practice the craft of writing.
N.B I'm pretty sure however that the narrator is NOT Rose Madigan ;-)
The comments thereafter make the point that T10 is another excellent place to practice the craft of writing.
N.B I'm pretty sure however that the narrator is NOT Rose Madigan ;-)
Excellent piece of writing - I have only one whinge. As a former crime reporter on a county-wide weekly newspaper I know I would NEVER have worn patent leather shoes! For one thing I knew that crime reporting took me to some pretty grungy places and for another I'd never have afforded them on my wages. :)
ReplyDeleteChange it to 'smart but sensible' and you've got me completely!
Thanks for that Morning AJ - I think I instinctively put them in precisely because of their inappropriateness, to indicate the personality of the wearer - can't imagine that there'd be much time to do a 'well-pinned, tiny black-bowed chignon' either.
ReplyDeleteBut you can now be warned - I may well be picking your brains now and then come November ...
No problem. Actually a chignon is practical and I knew one colleague who had one. I opted for short hair!
ReplyDeleteHa - love this - and the extra details in the comments just made it all the more fab!
ReplyDelete