THE BROKEN NUTCRACKER • by Derek McMillan
I used to visit Aunty Sash on Saturdays. My mother was glad to have a ten-year-old out of the house for the day. I enjoyed it because Aunt Sash fed me on cake and Corona which was a kind of… Continue Reading
Derek McMillan
GUARDIANS OF THE FOREST • by Derek McMillan
The keeper of the shed by the forest met us on the path. She was expecting us because it was Midwinter Eve. “I have lit a fire in the grate and there are plenty of logs stacked up outside.” She… Continue Reading
A BOXING DAY TO REMEMBER • by Derek McMillan
The Christmas tree lights were twinkling. Just a minute, they’re not supposed to do that. Then the room was plunged into darkness. Somebody screamed. It was my niece, obviously. The phrase “we won’t make a drama out of a crisis”… Continue Reading
EARWIGGING • by Derek McMillan
I was sitting in the canteen minding my own business. I had a coffee and a crossword. I swear I wasn’t earwigging, it was just that what she said was arresting. There were two women who were clearly pregnant —… Continue Reading
LAUGHING LARRY • by Derek McMillan
Laughing Larry earned his nickname by being the most miserable soul in Shoreditch. He was not a philanthropist. He was not an animal lover. So when I saw him lobbing a beefsteak over a ten foot wall I was interested.… Continue Reading
DEAD AS A DODO • by Derek McMillan
“It’s a good to see you, Finn.” Father Michael’s smile was as welcoming as ever. Finn reflected that although the policemen always seemed to be getting younger, surely the priests did not. He had known Father Michael all his life… Continue Reading
THE BEST OF PIES • by Derek McMillan
It was the best of pies. It was the worst of pies. I have to admit the pastry could not be faulted. I actually enjoyed it. Then as soon as I bit into the pie I found that it was… Continue Reading
THE VICAR’S LAPTOP • by Derek McMillan
Well, I don’t know about you but I find I have a lot to do of a Sunday. There is the car to wash, the lawn to mow and those flowerbeds are not going to weed themselves, are they? And… Continue Reading
THE ROWING MACHINE • by Derek McMillan
“I’m not using it to tow penguins to the moon,” was all Dave ever said about the contraption he was making in the shed. He was not a talkative chap, Dave. He worked as a surly shop-assistant in McTavish’s fish… Continue Reading