Hammersmith & City line

  • Tunnels of Time

    I begin tunnelling, through rock, clay and gravel, cutting through the streets of London.  A link from the King to his Knights of St. John.  Covered over with arches of bricks.   Down the line two dummy house fronts act as camouflage.  Engines grind through the bowels of commerce, rattle homes, disturb lives.  Yesterday travel around…

  • Blood-orange

    Your latest orchestral piece is a limestone cliff that you want me to throw myself off. Instead I jumpstart the Cortina and drive it slap bang into the space between notation and stave, but not before taking your Zippo out of the glove box and setting fire to the house. Later you’ll pull back your…

  • The Pick Up

    The magician was lost in thought as he shuffled his cards, his hands machines, natural to the motions and the flow. It was a habit, I realised, one that revealed something more complex whirring beneath the grin and the wink. He fascinated me, had done for weeks. Quick glimpses, hurried catching of the eye, never…

  • Storms Ahead

    When I arrive there are crowds of early risers waiting out the countdown to cancellations of service in mute pockets of steam from polymer cups. The young guy behind the counter of Pret-a-Manger rubs his eye with the heel of his hand and asks me if I want a bag. My tongue is morning numb…

  • Up the Hammers!

    “Mind the gap Grandad.” My underground announcer’s voice is a little rusty despite holding my nose so tightly my glasses steam up when I speak. I hold my Grandad firmly as we take our exaggerated step from the carriage. This is the kind of thing that would send him sprawling and I didn’t want to…

  • Values Laid Bear

    I alighted at Paddington station and bought a cookie from the stand. White chocolate and raspberry, crunchy and crumbly and casting delightful smells from its snug paper bag. Before I could walk and enjoy my treat I spied a teddy bear sitting alone and forgotten against a pillar and decided I would do my good…

  • Silent Greeting

    He saw her inside the Station, with a golden ribbon in her hair. He swept her a bow; she curtseyed in acknowledgment. Every day they passed one another in the same place. He bowed, she curtseyed, but they never spoke. They shared nothing but a smile. At an antique fair one day, he found a…

  • Farewell Note

    I love my work. I own the magician’s magic and uncanniness, the surgeon’s artistry and dexterity, the butcher’s rapaciousness. It’s about skill, fearlessness, muscle, a sparkling eye, a shining knife. Be systematic, it’s also about control. This is how it is done. Smack the chestbone to rob the heart of its breath, it quietens the…

  • Josephine & the Detective

    At first, Josephine had suspected her pretty young dresser Maxine.  Who could have blamed her? They were such beautiful creations; any girl might be tempted.  But Maxine had beat her fists against the dressing room mirror and sobbed, protesting her innocence. A month later, three more exotic costumes went missing, including her famous banana outfit….