Tuesday Tale – Mistake

The day got off to a bad start when I put the remote control in my bag instead of my phone.

As John was away on his business trip to Taiwan I was taking the car to work. Oliver rushed out the door saying ‘Bye Mum, don’t forget we’re all going round Roache’s tonight and I’m staying over ready for the match tomorrow.’

I had forgotten and had no idea who Roach was or where he lived. Since we moved to the new house Oliver spent even less time at home and frequently reminded us he had not wanted to move. But as John said, Oliver would be off to uni. next year and we couldn’t miss the opportunity to move to a place that was perfect for us, with room for John to work from home. The new estate was a good few stations further out from our old house and the town, but Oliver could get to school and me to work on the train.

I looked forward to a peaceful Friday evening. I could get a big shop on the way home as I had the car, a bottle of wine perhaps and Piza delivered.

I didn’t notice my mistake till I was in the office and went to check if John had left a message. The others thought it hilarious when I brandished the remote control.

‘Well it’s either the menopause or the stress of moving that’s done my brain in.’ I joined in their laughter.

I was always complaining Oliver never put his phone down for five minutes, so I was sure I could cope without my phone for one day.

At lunchtime I started to realise the implications of my mistake. How would I pay for lunch in the canteen? In my phone case was my bank card, but half the time I didn’t use that, I paid for things with my phone. ‘No one carries a purse around these days Mother’ Oliver had said frequently. Annie offered to pay. If I had known what lay ahead I would have had a good hot meal instead of a sandwich. Shopping was off my agenda, but I didn’t need anything urgently and why waste my precious evening going round the busy supermarket.

I drove home in a good mood, no waiting on a chilly platform for a train that might not come because of strikes or yet another landslide with all this rain we had been having. The sat nav came in handy because now it was dark I was not so sure I knew the way to our new house. Finally I was on the dark road by the common, home was not far and I would be glad to spot the street lights of the estate. But what I spotted were blue flashing lights, red flashing lights, yellow lights… what was going on? A yellow jacket flagged me down and I noticed barriers across the road.  I was not sure who or what the yellow jacket was. A woman’s voice spoke.

‘What do you mean, it’s so quiet here. Which way shall I go, I have to get home.’

‘Oakdene Avenue.’

‘What sort of incident?’

‘But what am I supposed to do, my husband’s in Taiwan.’

‘No, we just moved in, I don’t know anybody.’

‘I left my phone at home…’

Before I could say any more another car pulled up behind me and she left to give them the bad news.

On the pavement I saw a poor old lady standing alone. More to comfort myself than her I got out and went over.

‘I just got off the bus, oh dear, do you know what’s going on?’

‘No idea, we just moved into Oakdene Avenue and my husband’s in Taiwan and my son’s gone round to Roache’s house and I left my phone at home…’

‘Never mind, you can borrow my phone and call your son, or a friend.’

That’s when I realised I knew no one’s numbers, family or friends. Numbers stored in my phone, just tap the name you wanted to call…

‘I suppose you don’t remember the numbers, modern technology’ she chuckled ‘never mind dear, why don’t I call our local taxi company for you, they are very good.’

Where would I go, even if I had any means to pay the driver I had no idea where Roach lived. I heard a car draw up.

‘Oh here’s my lift, lucky I had my phone, I called my brother. My sister-in-law will have a good hot dinner waiting.’

And there she was gone. More emergency vehicles kept arriving, but I couldn’t see my police officer. I got back in the car to warm up and scrabbled around in the glove box for the car park purse. There should be enough change to buy a cup of coffee, perhaps even some chips in the café at that Tesco superstore a few miles back up the road. I could sit in the warm, restore my equilibrium then drive back to see if it was all clear. There should be plenty of change, we always paid for car parks with our phone these days…  I couldn’t find the purse. I recalled John tidying up the car ‘Don’t know why we still keep this old purse in here.’

Plan, plan, think of a plan. The logical thing would be to drive back to where we used to live, though it was a good distance and not an easy drive in the dark. Who would I call on? Cassandra and Dan were in Australia. Other friends, a bit embarrassing as I had failed to send any Christmas cards in the madness of moving and hadn’t even sent any text messages. Nobody wants to be disturbed on a dark winter’s night when they are all cosy at home. What on earth would I say, the whole situation sounded ridiculous. On this dark cold lonely night I wondered how many real friends I had back in the old neighbourhood. Probably only Cassandra. There was only one way to find out who was in and who might offer a welcome.

Tuesday Tiny Tale 500 – Overheard

I don’t make a habit of eavesdropping, well only in my capacity as a writer. Often you can’t help overhearing people on their mobile phones, in the street, on the bus, in the toile…toilet?

Usually in the Ladies only banal conversations emanate from inside cubicles.

‘Are you sure you don’t want a wee George before we go, Mummy’s going to have a wee, are you sure you don’t…   Daisy are you washing your hands properly, Daisy are you still there, wait till Mummy’s finished, don’t go out… Daisy, DAISEEE?’

I know from films and TV thrillers that men have endless dramatic conversations at the urinals, threatening, exchanging important information, dealing drugs or even assassinating each other.

The other day at our local busy sports centre the Ladies had a more interesting conversation to overhear.

 Surely she’s not taking her phone into the cubicle, she’s actually carrying on talking while she’s going and I can hear the other person clearly, must be on speaker.

I felt almost guilty intruding on their conversation, but I was in my cubicle first, I didn’t ask her to move in next door.  

I didn’t dare flush the toilet, I did not want her to know anyone was listening in to what could be an incriminating conversation. Nor did I want to miss a word.

 The toilet flushed and the door banged, I did not hear any more, didn’t dare creep out till she was gone. But what should I do. Back out in reception and the café it was so busy there was no way of guessing who had been in the Ladies. How could I phone the police and say someone called Dave who lived with Bella might be the murderer?

Cyber Cecurity and Digital Disasters

Worried about WordPress Block? Perplexed by Pressword? Digital life at Tidalscibe Towers is far more complicated, it’s a wonder you are reading this at all.

Warning, technical geniuses may be offended by the use of inappropriate technical language in the following item.

Thanks to the easing of the Covid roadmap and visits from Cyberson 1 and Digidaughter, a few problems have been ironed out. I can now post and edit my blog from the BIG computer with the BIG screen – old television. I can write in the relative calm of Microsoft Word and cut and paste, I can add links. Actually, it turned out I got just as many Likes for blogs cobbled together on the iPad with bits and blocks, prose and pix dancing up and down the screen or disappearing.  I am aware that the late Cyberspoue’s love of computers and digital technology, preferably second hand, meant our house had a higher than average digital delight rating, which was fine when he was my happiness engineer; more hands on than the WordPress Happiness  Engineer… But now I do at least have more than one device to access the internet portal. I imagine bloggers all over the world; some in control rooms NASA would envy, others sitting in bed with their smart phone, which are you dear reader?

I thought my old android phone, bought by Cyberspouse from Dave at work and passed on down to me, was finally giving up. Then through a process of brilliant deduction, seeing a detached wire at the end of the charger cable, I looked in the dreaded drawer of wires and found a spare charger. But by then the seed had been planted that I should have an iPhone which could form some sort of incestual relationship with the iPad. We only bought the iPad so we could Facetime Team G when Cyberson 1 was posted to the USA for three years. They’ve been back for one year so the iPad is probably due to go to a museum soon…

Cyberson 1 decided to buy me one with his pocket money when they were here at half term, but the model we agreed I would like was not available locally, so he then had to check with his sister if she would be able to set it up if he ordered from Amazon. Yes.

The phone arrived and I was ready with the secret code to give the delivery man. Next day Digidaughter arrived and we were she was ready. Of course my old sim card was too big so she phoned up Tesco to send a new sim card so I could keep my very basic Tesco account and my phone number… not that I ever phone anybody with my mobile or tell them my number…

A few days later, on my own again,  I came home and saw a Tesco leaflet amongst the mail and nearly threw it in the recycling bin, then realised this big piece of paper contained a minute piece of magic. I have never actually put in a sim card, I wouldn’t be much good as a spy or criminal constantly changing phones. But we had done a mock run through and I had a link to the ‘how to’ youtube video. All I had to do was not lose the wire tool or drop the minute sim card…

What are your favoured devices for writing your blogs and posting on WordPress? If you have a mobile phone do you use it to phone people or to look at Facebook and take photos to post on Instagram?

Silly Saturday – Instant Instagram

Should you be on Instagram? Of course, you should be on everything, just in case you miss something.

What is Instagram for? I have absolutely no idea, but it is quite fun.

‘Instagram is a photo and video-sharing social networking service owned by Facebook, Inc. It was created by Kevin Systrom and Mike Krieger, and launched in October 2010.’

Any the wiser?

Don’t worry, as long as you have a mobile phone that takes pictures you can join. Post your picture and put some hashtags.  Why, I’m not sure, but if you put #brightonpier  you are linked with all the other people who have taken better pictures of Brighton Pier. Some people put a few hashtags, others a whole list of them, which is a teeny bit showing off.

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But the most important thing, Rule One, is to take pictures instantly and send them off instantly. As soon as you arrive on holiday or you are in the middle of a big street demonstration, take a photo with your phone so that your followers will be envious, or impressed that you are protesting instead of sitting at home on the sofa looking at your phone. Don’t try to cheat by sending a picture of last year’s holiday; especially if it is a picture of you standing in front of Notre Dame. Someone is sure to find out…

Hey I’m in Venice at the moment and it’s raining not sunny.

Or That’s the Brexit march, not Extinction Rebellion.

Rule two, post pictures every day, or better still, every hour in case your followers wonder what has happened to you. If you are not going anywhere, or your life is unbelievably dull you can always pop in the garden, or someone else’s garden and take pictures of flowers. People like bright happy flowers to cheer their day. If you have a cat or puppy, even better, followers will never tire of endless pictures of your pet’s cuteness.

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How do you get followers? Wait or follow other people and hope they follow you. Occasionally you may get a message

ilovemyself is now following you, why not follow them back.

Look at their gallery, if they only take pictures of themselves you may not want to follow them…

Hopefully you will soon see a little red heart flashing to tell you someone liked your picture. You can also share your pictures on Facebook and Twitter, though when you go on Facebook and see your picture on the big computer screen it may not look as good as it did on your little phone screen…

Happy Snapping

If you like looking at photos there are always plenty on my website.

https://www.ccsidewriter.co.uk/chapter-three-picture-gallery/

Do you like taking photographs?

Do you prefer phones or cameras?

Do you enjoy posting pictures on social media?

 

Covert Coves and Continuity

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We once stayed for a week at a secluded Scottish cove where I was glad to discover there was no reception for mobile phones, nor was there a landline in the cottage. At the very top of the cliff, if you held your phone high in the air you could be lucky and get reception. A peaceful place for a holiday and proof for authors that there are still settings where mobile phones cannot be used; where characters can escape without being traced or where persons in peril cannot call for help.

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The plots of crime fiction, spy thrillers and romances changed for ever when mobile phones became ubiquitous. No running along dark lonely roads or knocking on strange doors to fetch help, a quick call on your mobile and an air ambulance or armed response unit could be with you in minutes. No wonder authors enjoy putting their heroes and villains in spots where there is no mobile reception.

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But you can’t always trust your characters. Reading through the third draft of one of the novels in the Brief Encounters Trilogy  I realised several of my leading characters, in several scenes, had casually used their mobile phones when they knew perfectly well there was no mobile phone reception at Holly Tree Farm. Some minor plot changes were needed for the fourth draft.

Proof reading and editing the manuscript of a novel is not just about lost commas, the wrong ‘their, there and they’re’ and ‘from’ turning to ‘form’ when you’re not looking. Continuity is just as important as on a film set.

Holly Tree Farm nestles in the quiet Wiltshire countryside; when Nathanial inherits the house it offers a refuge for his new friends and their secrets, but they never could have guessed the rambling old farm house had secrets of its own.

Read the first book in the trilogy for 99 pence.