GO BACK IN TIME with Ringo11: story of the century!!
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This was near the bottom of page two.
Is anyone still out there?! I do wish Ringo11 would post more of this fabulous story, but it seems her interests have changed and she has moved on and left us all hanging.
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I'm still here, although I haven't visited this board in quite a long time (what happened to the layout??
) I wish Ringo11 would post more of her story, but I'm thinking life has gotten in the way.
Cheers, Ringo - your story was fabulous!
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I just found the new link for this sight.... I thought I'd lost it forever!
Although I would love to read a new installment, I understand Ringo has a life besides this story. She should really think of becoming a writter....
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Where was I? This has become the bump thread! I'm very flattered, not to mention pleased, that you've managed to keep it at the top. I guess my reader base has grown without my even having been aware of it! You're right, I've been quite busy this year. I've been writing, but not for me. I think I must have done at least 10,000 words in essays in the last month alone, then exams on top of that, but I'm on holiday again now. I can't believe I started all this back when I was 17! That's over 4 years ago now. Amazing. I someone would let me know what I posted last I'll see if I can find where I left off.
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Hi ringo! Glad to see you're back! Here's where you left off, if you haven't found it already: SIXTY-NINTH INSTALMENT You cautiously turn over your card. Someone has to get a snap soon or you?ll both run out of cards. A touch of red, a heart, a face, a king, all register in a split second. Just as you drop the card on the pile and make to thump your hand down you hear a knock at the door. ?SNAP!!? ?Hold on, I?ll see who it is,? Paul says as he gets up off the floor. He peeks out the front window to make sure it isn?t anyone likely to cause trouble. ?It?s John,? he tells you and goes out to let him in. You watch the door while you listen to the sound of him entering the house, and John comes through followed by Paul, as though it were John?s house. ?Ooh! Who?s winning?? he asks when he sees the cards. ?Hi John,? you reply dryly. ?To what do we owe the pleasure?? Paul asks in his posh accent. ?I come with a proposition. I have got a bird,? he announces. ?Very nice,? from Paul. ?Yes?? you ask. ?She wants to go on a double date.? ?Ah,? from Paul. ?You want us to come,? you state. ?Well done, top of the class, lots of A?s and a gold star.? ?Can I have that in writing?? you retort. ?So waddaya say, kids?? ?Why us?? asks Paul. ?Why, who else but you?? ?Alright,? you say. Paul looks at you questioningly. ?Well, could be fun!? you decide. Paul shrugs. ?Where are we going then?? he asks. ?There?s a place on Gilpin Street, Lacy?s. Meet you there at one?? ?Yeah, go on then, why not,? Paul says. John leaves you to your card game, but you seem to have lost interest in snap. Paul suggests strip rummy, but you insist on playing with matchsticks again unless there?s a bottle of gin handy. There isn?t, so you spend the rest of the morning playing gin rummy with matchsticks. Before you go you both have a quick bath and dress up as nicely as possible, which under the circumstances, for you at least, isn?t really all that nicely, and involves the nasty balloon trousers you bought on your unexpected arrival. You catch the bus back into town and find Lacy?s Café on Giplin Street when John said it would be. There?s no sign of him inside, but you go in and find a table for four. The place is nothing fancy, and you don?t expect much of the food, specially for a vegetarian. You see a menu on the wall on the other side of the room and although you eyesight never won an award you can make out ?with chips? written beside most of the choices. Well, nothing wrong with chips, you think. After 20 minutes of waiting and politely smiling at the girl behind the counter, John and his bird turn up. ?Hullo,? Paul greets him. ?You did say one didn?t you?? ?Oh, did I?? John says innocently. He introduces you and Paul to his date, who goes by the name of Jenny, and you go and order. You have egg and chips, for lack of anything else not meaty, and the others have similarly chippy meals. The food is nice, and John behaves relatively well despite the occasional sarcasm and the odd sharp quip, usually aimed at Paul, who never seems to mind. The girl, Jenny, is nice. Too nice for John, and he knows it. She asks you the occasional polite question about where you?re from etc, but nothing too personal or too hard to lie about. You finish your mains and they boys buy everyone ice cream for desert. ?Okay,? Paul says when you?re all finished. ?What do you mean okay? The afternoon is still young!? John exclaims. He gets up, Jenny does the same, and Paul shrugs at you and follows. You follow them all out onto the street. ?Where to now then John?? you ask. He wiggles his eyebrows at you. ?I know this lovely cosy little bar,? he says. ?Oh sure, and your grandmother?s favourite cousin?s uncle twice removed runs it and won?t mind selling us drink I suppose,? you remark. ?Better,? he says, and winks. Again, you all follow him off down the road as if he?s the pied piper leading all the children out of town. When you get out of the central business district to an area with fewer shops and more houses, not to mention the occasional pub which you walk straight past, John finds a quiet spot and stops. You all gather round him expectantly, and with a certain amount of ceremony, he pulls out of his coat two bottles of gin in paper bags. ?Where did you get that load from?? Paul enquires. ?A bottle shop of course.? ?You couldn?t afford all that, and if you could they wouldn?t sell it to you anyroad.? ?Well that?s why I had to nick it, didn?t I.? ?Oh, alright. Give us one of them then,? Paul says as if he?s very used to John nicking stuff. John hands him a bottle, which he opens and takes a swig from. Pulling a face, he hands it to you while John opens the other bottle. You only hesitate slightly before taking a swig yourself. Usually you are more sensible, but today some of John?s daring (or foolishness) has rubbed off on all of you. Jenny seems to know more than you and Paul about John?s plans though. You continue on down the road, following John and taking turns at drinking from the bottles. After a while you stop feeling so cold, and not long after that you feel your hands go slightly numb. Your head seems to be fine though, since spirits doesn?t ever seem to effect your brain as fast as your body. Good thing he didn?t steal wine. You all walk along drinking, your jokes getting more frequent and your laughs getting louder. This is turning out to be more fun than you had anticipated. After what must have been quite a walk, none of which you really took in, John stops once again. ?This is it folks.? ?This is what?? you ask. ?This is our cosy little bar.? By this time you are quite drunk, so you take his word for it. ?Don?t worry, it?s been empty for months,? he explains. You realise he?s talking about the house you?re standing beside. It was once part of a row, all joined up, but now it has a gap on one side and a sort of an old stable on the other. There are boards over the dirty windows and one to nail the door shut. ?So how do we get in?? Jenny asks John. ?Ah,? he says mysteriously, and goes around the side with you all following. You stop where he does, and he points to a kitchen window at the back of the house where the boards have all fallen or been pulled off. ?Come on then,? he says, handing you his bottle. OH! I almost forgot, BUMP!
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Hello Ringo! So happy to hear from you!
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Oh boy, I didn't realise we were this far in. Why did I stop just as it was about to get interesting?
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SEVENTIETH INSTALMENT John goes to the window of the old house and Paul gives him a leg up. He disappears inside and a moment later sticks his head out and asks ?Who?s next?? Paul then helps Jenny climb through the window. ?You coming?? he asks you once she?s through. ?Hadn?t you better go next? It?ll be harder to pull you through from that side,? you suggest. ?That heavy am I?? he jokes, and you give him a leg up while John helps him from the inside. Your turn. You approach the window with caution. Paul and John stick their heads out and after taking the bottle you pass to them, they offer you their hands. You take hold of them as firmly as you can in the state you?re in. ?Okay,? you instruct, and they take your weight. Your feet scramble drunkenly on the bricks below the window. Eventually they manage to haul you up enough for you to take your own weight on the window sill. You hang there for a moment, your legs dangling out and your arms straining to keep you there. You wiggle yourself bit by bit over the sill with the lads attempting to assist. Suddenly you feel a pain in your side. ?Ow! Stop pulling!? you say. ?Shh, not so loud! What?s the matter?? Paul asks. ?I think I just got impaled on a nail. I?m okay? I think.? You manage to pull yourself over the sharp object sticking into your side and finally in through the window. On the other side you attempt to stand up, get dizzy, and almost fall flat on your face. John catches you and hands you the bottle, from which you take another drink to try and distract from the scratch on your side. You look around you at the little room you?ve broken into. The floor is bare and there?s little left of the kitchen save for a tatty and empty cupboard and a bare bench top with exposed shelves under it. There is grime on the wall above where the stove once was, and a shadow of darker colour on the wall behind what would have been the fridge. John and Jenny disappear out the door and you and Paul follow just in time to see them go into the next room and shut the door with a sense of finality. Paul laughs. ?Come on,? he says, and leads you to another room at the back of the house. It?s totally empty and has a boarded up window and a door leading outside. The door is hanging on one hinge and slightly open, allowing enough light in to dimly light the little room. You take a look around and have another few gulps from the bottle, handing it to Paul who does the same. ?Ouch,? you say, remembering the nasty scratch you got from the window. Paul shuts the door that leads out to the hall. You lift up your top a bit and try to see how bad the cut is, turning to the light and almost falling over yourself again. You can?t see much from this angle. ?You okay?? Paul asks. ?I don?t know. I can?t see properly, and I can?t feel anything. I thought it might be bleeding though, but I can?t see it.? ?Here, let me have a look.? He comes over to you in time to prevent you straining something trying to look at your ribs. ?Here,? he says, gently steadying your hand holding up your top. You stand as still as you can. He lifts your top a little higher so he can see. Putting a hand on your hip, he gently rotates you to get better light. Bending to the side, he looks at the scratch. ?I can?t see very well. Is it??? he raises his hand from your hip and gently touches your side, looking at his fingers to see if there?s any blood on them. He strokes the scratch with his thumb, ever so gently, and looks you in the eye. You blink at him, vaguely aware of what?s going on and in no mood to stop it. You take point, ask yourself whether you?re okay with this and whether you?re in any state to make that decision, decide the answer to both questions is yes, and then you look down at his hand on your bare skin. You take a little sharp breath when his hand brushes the cut making it sting slightly. His other hand comes up to your cheek, slowly and gently, and his face moves close to yours. You watch him from that separate view that alcohol seems to bring, as though you?re looking out from you body like it?s a robot that you?re sort of driving, but not actually you. Your noses are almost touching. You are aware of his hand still on your side and his other on your cheek. You watch him for just a moment longer before your lips meet his. His kiss is confident and lovely. You run your hand through his thick dark hair. Your lips part again and you linger for a moment, still close, before kissing again. He moves his hands to your back, supporting you as you sink to the floor. You don?t notice how hard the bare boards are, you don?t care about the layer of dust. Your whole world is contained is his kiss. His hands move under your top again, careful not to be rough or hurt the gash in your side. You are propped up on one elbow as he leans over you. He shifts his weight slightly and subtly puts his hand on your arse. He moves it down the outside of your thigh and you bend your leg to accommodate. You hear an almighty crash from somewhere in the empty house. ?Bugger,? he says. ?Bloody John.? Then he kisses you again. Another crash, this time sounding like it?s from a slightly different location. He stops to listen. There is noise coming from outside the door. You look in that direction. Suddenly, you see smoke coming under the door. ?Shit! Paul, look!? you say, and he responds quickly, turning to see the smoke. You can smell it now. ?Fucking hell, what?s going on?? He gets up and goes to the door. You sit up, and he looks at you before opening it. The roaring is overwhelming. He jumps back. There are angry orange flames on the other side of the door. You feel the heat from half way across the room. He slams the door and comes back to you. ?Fuck, what do we do?? he says. You go to the other door, the one leading outside, and try and push it open. Even with the extra strength you gain from your panic, the door won?t budge. He comes over to help you, but the both of you can?t move it. ?Could we get out that way?? you ask, indicating the door he?d just closed. ?I don?t think so. I couldn?t really see.? You decide to look for yourself. Carefully, you make sure the knob isn?t hot before gently turning it and opening the door a crack. Just as you do so, there comes another great crash, and you jump back just in time to avoid the debris that hits the door, flinging it open. Flames and smoke pour into the room. You?re trapped. You back away from the heat. Paul is on the other side of the room still battling with the jammed door. You take a step towards him, and just as you move the ceiling caves in a shower of sparks. Smouldering wood and plaster miss you by inches. You call out to Paul and hear his answer drowned by the noise of the inferno. He is blocked off from you and you from the door by a pile of flaming rubble.
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WOW!! On the edge of my seat!!
Wonderful! (damn fire!)
Thanks Ringo!
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Love the new installment, great job!
Bump!
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Thanks, Ringo, nice to hear from you again!
You really should be a writer. You do it so well, I always assumed that's what you were studying. Thanks for taking a break from the real world to indulge us once again.
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ooooh! So good
Thanks Ringo. I needed that
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Hello again!
Exciting stuff! Glad you're OK, just busy. Life has a habit of getting in the way doesn't it, just lots of things to do! I enjoyed that! a good start to the weekend! Julie
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Woo! XD new stuff! but it's more cliff-hanger-ish than usual! lol cool good to see y6u back too ringo11!
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middle of the page. BUMP!
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yay!! Thank you so much for this, needed it!!
Glad to hear you're doing okay.
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bump again!
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BUMP!
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so basically I just found this thread a few days ago....and it's taken me up until now to get to this point. holy crap I'm in love. amazing!
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Macca's_Tuba_Player:
so basically I just found this thread a few days ago....and it's taken me up until now to get to this point. holy crap I'm in love. amazing!
I'm blushing
ops: I really appreciate that, it mean a lot to me that people like what I write. Cheers