Stories

Hawkmead

As it happened, he survived. He didn’t think he would.  As the men carried him up the cliff, every iota of his body screaming in pain, he truly thought he was a gonner. He could hear the grunts as the men heaved over the stones, sometimes slipping on loose gravel, and the heavy sound of […]

Posted 4 years ago

The Listeners

The Listeners a short story by Catherine Broughton Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,    Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the grasses    Of the forest’s ferny floor: And a bird flew up out of the turret,    Above the Traveller’s head: And he smote upon the door again a […]

Posted 6 years ago

The Cornfield. A story by Catherine Broughton

The Cornfield by Catherine Broughton   Madeleine Her fingers shook slightly as she removed the poison from the cupboard. For a moment she stopped, observed her shaking fingers, smiled slightly almost as though she expected the phial to speak, to congratulate her, before she placed it carefully in the pocket of her apron. She had […]

Posted 10 years ago

Sounds

  The sound reached her over the babble of voices and the background drone of traffic. Funny, isn’t it?  The way certain sounds can bring back poignant memories … in just a split second, something buried deep in one’s mind, springs forth vividly, triggered by a sound … The way, even years later, we can […]

Posted 11 years ago

The Hunter – a story from rural France

Pierre walked stiffy up and down a couple of times so that I could do this sketch.  He took it all incredibly seriously and had doubtless had a bath especially.  Certainly, he had had a good shave. Shotgun in  hand, these hunters set off every Sunday morning once La Chasse has started in September, right […]

Posted 12 years ago

Wine in the Medoc, France. Wine tasting day.

On a swelteringly hot August day Bruce and I, accompanied by George, our Great Dane, left the cool refuge of our campsite under the tall seaside pines, and made our way to a wine festival at Lesparre. We have been in France nearly nine years, we said, and we still don’t know anything about wine […]

Posted 12 years ago

As I drove out one frozen morning ….

Sometimes I wonder if I unwittingly contributed to his death. It is possible, even likely, that he died. I’ll never know, of course, but if I lived nearer I’d probably go to the factory and see what I could find out. There’s an element of guilt somewhere there. The memory of him comes back to […]

Posted 12 years ago

The Precious Child

The Precious Child by Catherine Broughton Klara carried the pail of milk across the yard and in to the kitchen. Her steps were heavy. The creamy white liquid swirled around in the timber bucket. The smell made her feel nauseous, but then throughout all her pregnancies, everything seemed to make her feel nauseous. Whether this […]

Posted 13 years ago

Hospital conversation.

by Catherine Broughton Glancing around the ward at the listless bodies lying or sitting in various states of boredom, my eyes met those of another woman, aged something around eighty six or eighty seven. She was in the bed opposite me, a big pink nightie rucked up to display swollen legs. She was horribly overweight, […]

Posted 13 years ago

An Unlikely Couple

  Adela was a big woman. She was born big, she said. She had no idea whether or not this was true but, as she had no mother to ask, she assumed it to be so. Big people are generally big babies, she reasoned. At thirty-two she had got used to her size and, although […]

Posted 13 years ago

Books now available on Amazon:

A Call From France
French Sand
Kefani: An African Childhood
The Man With Green Fingers
Saying Nothing