Won’t it be grand, Jessie?

Midnight Quatermass 27: Robots, a Letter from 1944 and a Hospital Tale.

Earlier this week a Texas law enforcement robot took down a dude by deploying pepper spray into his motel room despite a barrage of attack bedsheets and at least one bullet. The fucking thing then pinned him to the ground until backup arrived.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of this single page comic that Dave and I came up with many moons ago. It has a happier ending I think.

For those of you ridiculously young people who may not be familiar with The Crystals here is the definitive version of the song.

I’ve been in love with Elisabeth Shue for 37 years and counting because of those two minutes. Also that movie still has the best version of Thor to grace our screens. Sorry Hemsworth.

I’m slowly sorting out my paper archive from a huge fucking mess to a smaller fucking mess and tucked away inside a folder I found this envelope:

The handwriting within is in very faded pencil and I don’t think I’ve been able to read it properly before, but this time I took a couple of photos and tweaked the images to make it a little more legible. I read it to Jess and she said that you guys would love it.

Of that I’m not so sure, but I mentioned it online:

Found a letter sent from my grandfather to my grandmother in 1944 when he was in the army. Jess tells me this is the kind of thing people like and that I should put it in my next newsletter despite him not mentioning any cable car attacks on Nazi strongholds.

A few people certainly did want me to do something with it and (yet another Dave) pointed out:

We had a beautiful show come through our theatre based upon a couple's wartime correspondence. Valuable to remind folk that war is as much about people living as it is bang shooty stuff.

So I’ve put the photos up on Instagram over here, but I’ll give you guys the easier-to-read version below. I couldn’t transcribe it without adding a little extra punctuation here and there, but I think his voice is just as true even tidied up a little. Here we go:

The letterhead has the YMCA WITH HIS MAJESTY’S FORCES logo and PLEASE ADDRESS YOUR REPLY TO No.14573069 Rank: Pvt Name: B. Atherton Address: No.1 Welfare Equipment Depot (Rear) B.L.A. Date: 5/10/44.

My Darling Wife Jessie and our little Michael.

Well, Jessie, just a few lines to let you know I am alright. I received a letter from you today which you wrote on Sunday teatime. Glad to hear that you went to the Ritz on Saturday night with our Michael. I bet our Michael looks forward to going to the pictures now doesn’t he?

You say that you called at your Annie’s on the way back. Jessie, you mustn’t stay out too long now that the dark nights are on. Be careful, Jessie.

Well, Jessie, I am glad to hear that you are having your hair permed. Tell you what, Jessie, that two pound will pay for having your hair permed won’t it?

Jessie, does our Michael want a picture book every time you take him to Wigan? Never mind, Jessie, it won’t be long before I am buying him a book or two now. I bet when I go to Wigan with you, our Michael will come back loaded with everything he wants.

Won’t it be grand, Jessie?

Well, Jessie, look after yourself and our Michael. I shall have to close now. It’s time for me to go on guard now. Tell your mother and Dad I have been asking about them. I wrote them a letter the other day.

Well, Jessie, goodnight and God bless you both.

From your loving husband Bentley Xxxxx

I think he just really liked writing her name.

The bottom of the letter states NATIONAL WAR EFFORT. PLEASE USE BOTH SIDES OF PAPER but the text is obscured by pencil kisses.

Bentley didn’t use the reverse of the first page, but he did use both sides of the second sheet:

Horse for our Michael from Daddy

My dad, Michael, would have been maybe three when his mum took him to the pictures that Saturday in 1944. The Ritz is the same cinema that I saw SUPERMAN at in 1978 along with RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1981), BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA (1986) and scores of others. It sounds facile to say that my grandfather’s generation fought and died so that I could see RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD PART II (1988) on the big screen, but that was exactly what they were fighting for. I doubt the Nazi fucks would have liked THE BLUES BROTHERS (1981) either, but my nan took me to see it the first week of release at the Ritz because she rocked while those murdering pricks did not.

The cinema is long gone now and I once had to do a good week of research tracking down exactly when Dave saw which HERBIE movie there in the early 80s (don’t ask) so it’s doubtful I can find out what was playing that exact week forty years ago.

However, one movie on general release that week would have been the rather astonishing A CANTERBURY TALE (1944) by Powell and Pressburger.

Considering I grew up at my grandmother’s knee watching classic movies that she loved I’m holding on to the idea that she sat in the dark with my dad on her lap and a little of the cinematic magic got through to him between naps.

My own son Connor’s first cinema trip was to see my friend Eric Heisserer‘s ARRIVAL (2016) which I don’t think is too shabby a start.

The horse drawing may have turned out to be prophetic. I believe that Bentley’s only overseas posting during the war was to France where he and another soldier were given the vital task of looking after an officer’s horse. Apparently it didn’t end well, but the details are lost in time. I imagine it was something akin to CARRY ON SERGEANT (1958) with a little ANIMAL HOUSE (1978) thrown in.

I only have two vivid memories of my grandfather.

I often forget that I’m as old as dirt myself now, but then a flashback comes in faster than a Colonial Viper and I’m reminded that I grew up in a world so far away from here that it may as well have been a different planet.

The strongest memory I have of Bentley is this one.

I’m in their kitchen wearing a WWII gas mask. There were no toys there so I made do with what I could find under the stairs and the government issue gas mask was a firm favourite. I’d watch the tv wearing it all day if they’d let me, but on this occasion I remember my granddad announcing that we were ‘off out’ and there were no gas attacks forecast in 1977.

We left via the back door and back gate and walked down the ‘the backs’, an unpaved lane that ran the length of their road and lead you directly to the gates of the Uncle Joe’s Mintball Factory. When I was older I’d bike there and ask the workers on their way in and out for freebies, often rewarded with a paper bag full. But holding my grandfather’s hand that day we were focused on one thing and one thing only.

Plopping.

My kids lose themselves in Netflix and the their Nintendo Switch, but my grandfather would encourage me to pick up good plopping stones instead. When our pockets were full we’d pick a decent looking grid on the lane and sit either side. We’d slowly empty our pockets and drop the stones and pebbles through the grate down into the drains below and wait for the satisfying plop before awarding each other points on its quality.

We’d then retrace our tracks and be rewarded with Jessie’s freshly baked fairy-cakes.

In the other memory he’s lying in a bed downstairs in my nan’s house. I believe now that he was dying although I was far too young to understand that at the time. It was probably his last opportunity to see me and I remember his hand on my cheek and his smile.

You probably want to meet Bentley and Jessie. I don’t have many photos, but here they are in Blackpool about to rob a bank:

I was named Michael after my dad, but my middle name is Bentley.

Connor’s middle name is Michael so there’s a little continuity there. I’ll frame the letter this week and when they’re a little older they can ask me about him.

I will of course tell them that they should just go watch his biography, WHERE EAGLES DARE (1968).

Enough of all that. Story time.

THE MOON ON A STICK

They got to the hospital right on time just as the sun was setting.

This was day three of the cycle - the last day - and they were both already looking forward to the weekend. Jim had suggested the beach and Laura was already looking forward to it. She had that new Korean novel to finish and a swim in the sea after tonight would do them both a world of good. Therapeutic even.

She sometimes worried about the toll this was taking on Jim but knew he’d brush it off if she ever raised it.

“It’s not about me,” he’d say. “It’s about them.”

Tonight there were three of them.

Even though the whole thing left her melancholy this was the best part. Watching them smile again despite everything else. Despite what they were facing. She knew they were doing a good thing and even though Jim was right about it being for them she knew it was good for him too.

He needed this too. Purpose.

So yeah it’s hard sometimes, but her parents didn’t raise no crybabies (except for Debbie) so she’d tough it out.

Besides, three days a month wasn’t the end of the world.

Not for her anyway.

-

In the lift she checked her rucksack so make sure she had Jim’s stuff for later. Tracksuit, trainers, water. Check, check, check.

“Who’s first?” he asked.

“Mr Keith Brewer.”

The lift was playing a muzak version of Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer.

“How long?”

She sighed sadly.

“Any day now.”

“Fuck. Right,” Jim growled.

We’ve got each other and that’s a lot for love…

She stepped forward to look close into his changing eyes.

“Game face on, honey.”

“Check.”

The lift doors open and they step into the hospital hallway.

“Suit up and meet me in there?”

He nods already moving to the window at the end of the hallway

She goes in.

Mr Keith Brewer is sitting up in the bed expecting them.

Sat next to him, holding his hand, is his husband, Terry.

“Hello. I’m Laura from Fur & Square.”

They both nod but say nothing.

Laura takes the form from her bag already attached to a clipboard and offers it to them both.

“Jim will be in in a moment. If you’re ready. I just need a signature and we’re all set.”

Keith takes the form and she passes him a pen.

Terry looks unsure.

“I’m a little confused as to who pays for all this?”

Laura smiles.

“We’re a non profit rather than a charity and all proceeds go back into what we do. We luckily have a number of generous donors. Some of them have had family members who benefitted from our services in the past while others just believe in the work and want to help any way they can. It means we can provide the service without you and Keith having to worry at all about the financial side of things.”

“And it happens tonight?” Keith asks as he hands the clipboard back.

“Guaranteed.”

This seems to be what he was waiting to hear and he looks visibly calmer.

“Good.”

The door behind Laura opens as Jim walks in.

“Oh my God!” says Terry, his eyes wide as saucers.

But Keith is smiling. Almost laughing as he speaks.

“Ha!” he says. “Fucking brilliant!”

~

A few minutes later and they’re walking to the next room together.

“Next client is Joanne Carter. She’s filled everything in online so this is just a formality. No paperwork.”

Jim looks up at her and she smiles at him as she stops at the door. She knocks quickly and puts her head in. Jim waits patiently as she introduces him.

“Hi, Joanne? Laura from Fur & Square. We exchanged emails. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve got Jim here if… great!”

She pulls her head back and opens the door for him.

“I’ll wait here.”

Jim nods and goes in.

Laura rests her head against the closed door and takes a deep breath.

The next one is the tough one.

She looks at her watch and crosses to the snack machine in the hallway. Kit Kats. Fucking brilliant as Keith would say.

She’s pushing her selection when a doctor turns the corner and nods to her as he also stops at the machine.

“Evening!”

Laura just nods at him as the machine whirs. He looks at her visitor pass on its lanyard.

“Make a wish foundation?” he guesses.

“Something like that.” She takes the Kit Kat. “All yours.”

He punches in the number without looking.

“Thanks. I’m on an a double shift and boy do I need some chocolate.”

“You work on this ward?” Laura asks.

“No. Too tough for me. I’m down in A&E. but the machines down there are all broken again.”

He grabs his Mars Bar from the machine and begins to unwrap it.

“Fucking mad house down there. Pardon my French. Full moon of course. Brings all the crazies out.”

He brings the bar to his mouth and then instantly drops it to the floor as Jim walks out of the room and pads down the corridor towards them.

Laura smiles and waves to him as she eats her Kit Kat.

Jim cocks his head to one side as he looks at the doctor.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t get your name, Doctor…?”

“Wren. Doctor Peter Wren.”

Doctor Peter Wren is pushing himself into the wall of the corridor as hard as he can. His fight or flight instinct is frozen as every ounce of his will power is used up in an attempt to stop him from soiling himself.

Also he’s making room for Jim who now takes up most of the corridor as he walks by.

“This is my boyfriend, Jim.”

The doctor’s throat is suddenly too dry to respond so he just nods as the girl smiles and waves goodbye as she walks behind the werewolf.

Jim closes his eyes gratefully as Laura scratches behind his ear.

The third night of the cycle means he’s at his most powerful, the new muscles that ache and burn on the first night feel perfectly natural now. His vision and hearing are at optimum efficiency and he can still smell the fear radiating behind him.

His razor sharp teeth feel glisten as his tongue moves over them and with the first hunger pang still an hour way this is the best he’ll feel until he feeds.

He fucking loves this.

Right now he’s the apex predator to end all apex predators, but when Laura scratches him in just the right place she reduces him to a puppy.

But now she’s stopped at another door and looks sad.

He fucking hates this.

“Danny Lewis. He’s… eleven.”

Jim puts all thoughts about himself and Laura aside. Time to go to work and for kids he always makes an extra effort.

Inside the room Danny’s mum and dad sit either side of the bed. Danny is laid down, but sits up slowly as Jim enters the room. His face lights up and the smile almost makes Laura forget about the machines and the tubes. Almost.

“Puppy!” exclaims Danny so softly that only Jim hears it.

He walks up to the bed and carefully puts his head in the boys lap. Danny squeezes the werewolf as hard as he can. Jim waits patiently for him to release his neck and then licks the boys face making him laugh.

Danny’s dad walks over to Laura and takes her out of earshot as his wife cries and smiles watching their son excitedly laugh over the werewolf wagging his tail.

“It’s bigger than I expected.”

“Danny is perfectly safe, Mr Lewis. James would never…”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Look. Tucker. That bastard. He’s not a big man. He’s not going to put up much of a fight.”

Laura gets it and takes his hands in hers.

“Ah, I understand. That won’t be a problem, Mr Lewis.”

He squeezes her hands. Hard.

“I want that bastard to suffer. I don’t want it to be quick.”

Laura nods.

“We only have three calls tonight. Mr Tucker is the last one. James is very good at his job and will take his time. We have until dawn and I can assure you that tonight will be the last, but also the longest night of Mr Tucker’s life.”

The father nods. Relived.

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

He lets go of her hands and wipes the back of his sleeve across his eyes quickly.

“Thank you.”

They turn at the sound of Danny laughing. The wolf has carefully climbed up on to the edge of the bed so the kid can cuddle up.

Danny’s mum looks at Laura and mouths the same words as her husband.

“Thank you.”

~

Laura steps outside to pin a fresh card to the billboard and then has time to grab a coffee from the machine. A cleaner is mopping a puddle of something up along with the doctor’s discarded chocolate bar.

Jim spends another fifteen minutes in the room until Danny falls asleep.

He looks up at her as they head back to the lift.

“You’re a good dog, James Singh.”

They get in the elevator and she pulls up the list on her phone.

“Closest is Bradford Burns. Swindled Keith out of his life savings. Joanne’s old boss is next. Claimed not to know her workplace was contaminated, but was actually given a list of all the work that needed doing before he could open. He ignored it and went ahead anyway.”

Jim growls a little.

“And then the last one this month is an MP. Opposition now, but when he was in power he helped turn a blind eye to the international reports on the drug that Danny was prescribed. Not just Danny of course. Over fifty children… His place is a little way out, but nice and isolated. You won’t be disturbed.”

The growl this time is a little deeper, a little longer.

“I know. You’re getting hungry.”

As the doors close she rubs behind his ear.

“Let’s go get you something to eat.”

~

The cleaner pauses on her way past the notice board and reads the card that Laura left there.

Don’t leave angry! We can settle any score!

We GUARANTEE peace of mind:

Fur & Square

“If revenge is a dish best served cold let us do the chewing!”

She jots down the number and email address into her phone and then reads the last line aloud not wanting to pass the opportunity to practice her English before calling at the pharmacy for her mother’s pain medication.

“Philanlycanthropy: the desire to promote the welfare of others, expressed specifically via the assumption of the form and characteristics of a wolf.”

She smiles as she turns away.

“Philanlycanthropy!” she says again.

She likes it. A new word.

Outside the large window the moon is full and bright and a long howl can be heard moving away from The hospital and into the night.

Quick puppy update. A few nights ago I was walking back into the living room and I heard Jaime talking to the dog very quietly so no one else would hear.

“I used to be the smallest person in the house, but now you are. Don’t worry, Cooper. I’ll look after you.”

Be still my Grinchy heart…

Night night. Stay safe and I’ll see you next week.

Michael Bentley