Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 9 (5/5) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/5), (2/5), (3/5), (4/5), (5/5). Part 1 Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Part 2 Prologue, Chapter 1, 2, 3.

We were nearing the North Bridge over the River Hull. The river was narrow and shallow; it also served as the main sewer for the houses and industry clinging to its banks. I looked over the side of the bridge and noticed the tide was out. Keelboats and barges that fed the riverside mills and factories lay stranded like beached whales on the mud, waiting for the incoming tide from the Humber to bring them back to life. Getting across to the other side of the river made no difference to the foul smell. We continued walking along a street called Witham.

Here the reek of overcrowded humanity living in tight courts with overflowing outside privies mingled with the acrid smell of oil mills and hot blacksmiths' shops. 'Glad we don't live 'round here.' George mumbled from behind a hand that now held a grey handkerchief. 'Let's get a move on. Let's follow the tracks. The tram's moving' too slow.' I'd had enough of the stink.

We gave up on caution and ran along the pavement ahead of the tram. Not many yards later we saw the words 'Holderness Road' written in white letters on black tiles half way up a house front. Gradually the stench subsided and a more palatable sooty smell from house chimneys filled the air. We moved into an area of newer terraces of houses where there was less industry. In between the groups of buildings open fields were still waiting to be built upon as the town stretched further out into the countryside. 'It is on Holderness Road, ain't it?' George looked worried.

'Course it is!' I was less sure than my words suggested but when we saw a crowd ahead of us our uncertainty disappeared. When we reached the corner of Buckingham Street a rag tag army of boys was filling the pavement and spilling out onto the main road. 'There's no point waiting boys!' A brown suited man in a bowler hat was shouting at the throng. 'We've got all the boys we need to sell programmes.' The accent was strange to my ears; it was one I had never heard before.

Boys' heads dropped dejectedly but none slumped further than mine. 'Is that it?' George's face mirrored my disbelief. 'Can't give up now!' I was determined to stay despite us being engulfed by the swarm drifting back in the direction of the town centre. 'Come on!' I urged and we swam against the tide of unsuccessful would-be programme sellers. The football ground was set back a few yards from the main road. Its entrance was squeezed in between houses and a chapel.

In front of newly erected fences covered in bright posters stood burly looking men offering further dissuasion to non-paying intruders like us. 'There's got to be another way in!' I wasn't going to be discouraged that easily.

Copyright © Frank Beill 2005

Continued Part 1, Chapter 10

Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 7 By Rich Mills
	I've pulled more stuff from the box-o-stuff. I now know that it belonged to someone called Alan Miro. It seems he was a student in Hellville over the end of last century. I've found diary entries, half finished essays, random rantings, emails, and all manner of fragmented files and documents that give me Read more...

Fiction - Second Chances by Nick Quantrill
	Available now, Second Chances is a crime fiction novella set in Hull that is already attracting praise from readers. Influenced by crime fiction heavyweights Ian Rankin and Hull's Robert Edric, Second Chances is set to be a great success. For a taster, see the extract reproduced below, only available Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 3 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	'Master Smyle! You have to take off all your clothes to have a bath!' The thick Scots accent of Mr Rodgers boomed in my ear. This man became the bane of my life. 'Jolly Rodgers' we children called him but the nickname came from the pirate flag - not from his sense of humour, if indeed he possessed one. Read more...

Fiction - Invasion By Bob Spence
	Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar and the coarse material was driving him to distraction. You could also say that Moody was distracted anyway. He was waiting for a letter from his fiancee and there was none. Read more...

Fiction - The Death and Birth and Death of a Legend By Bob Spence
	Goober liked to be busy. Some people could handle doing nothing, not Goober Walton. Running the tidy but ancient gasoline concession suited. Suited well. It was orderly and everything clearly had its place. Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it Read more...

Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
	Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you? I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it. It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral. Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why. It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a Read more...

Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Nine By Steve Rudd
	Life is a race against time, didn't you know? Sometimes I'm worn out by my own energy, but as we four walked first towards Langtang, right on through the cosy cluster of weather-beaten buildings and then so far past the village that even the strangely surreal Read more...

Fiction - Fishheads By Michelle Dee
	Monstrous silver and blue -green severed fish heads emerged at the forefront of her mind. Open, close, open, close the gaping mouths. She fancied there were others behind it. Each time the razor sharp teeth were bared she looked into the blacker than Read more...

Fiction - Firm but Fair By Mark Pollard
	Cry-Baby Jim Breaks. He pioneered it, they say. And the hushed, almost ecclesiastical tones of Ken Walton had heralded it's entry into Saturday afternoon folklore: the bright lights of Blackpool and Great Yarmouth, down to the lesser reputes of Ilfracombe and Skegness had all borne witness Read more...

Fiction - Puzzles By Denis Price
	I've got a really nice room, when the door's closed I feel ever so safe and warm. It's quiet as well, just the swish of the wind in the trees outside. I like the trees; they hide the big tall fence. My watchers say the fence is there to keep me safe, and that's their job too, they're always there Read more...

Fiction - COLD WAR TALES- THE CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS By Denis Price
	The piercing insistent wail of the siren woke him. `For Christ`s sake now what!` Over the tannoy the smooth expensive voice intoned languidly that this was only a drill and that all personnel should continue with their normal duties. He groaned and thought, this is my normal Read more...

Fiction - Scrawls Of The Unexpected By Mark Pollard
	Professor Colin Pillinger, lead scientist on the Beagle II programme, was calm but well pissed off inside. He had been clinging to the idea that his £35 million Mars Probe was stuck in a crater, waiting for some narrow rays of sunlight to banish the shade for a few precious hours each day in order that Read more...

Fiction - A Short Story - The Beaver Stalker By The J.E.M. Cult
	I stepped out into the cold frosty air. I pulled my muffler tighter round my hands and crunched across the frozen grass. Today was the first day of the beaver season- and by golly, I was sure gonna get me one. I love beavers. I can't help it. There's just something about stroking that damp fur that sends me Read more...

Fiction - The Art Of Being Alone In A Crowded Bar By Rich Mills
	What music are you into, man? The American exchange student who had earlier introduced himself, without any regard for Jean-Paul's need to be alone, suddenly threw a curve-ball of a question in his direction. Well I listen to... What followed was a definitive list of bands from Jean-Paul's wide ranging rare vinyl Read more...