cornishcat

Happy holidays, one and all!

2016-12-24T15:06:11Z

I couldn't let the occasion pass by without wishing you all seasons greetings.

I have moved house and it is verrrry slowly starting to feel a little more comfortable. We have built walls, inserted new doorways and repaired the heating system, to name just a few of the essential jobs so far undertaken

I am expecting to feel more settled once I get my things out of the storage container. I suppose it shouldn't even cross my mind that this place could possibly feel like home without all my beloved personal possessions around me. I haven't seen my books, furniture, pictures etc for over 18 months now and I miss them terribly. Fingers crossed I can afford to get them transported here from Cornwall early in January

Whose bloomin' idea was this, to set off on a grand adventure at my age? Yep, I must be completely bonkers!

Anyway I have a present for you which I hope is as new to you as it is to me:

I think it was probably taken at the same time as this one.

And this little picture is a different version of the second one we've probably all seen. Wish I had a bigger copy though.

.

Nice present, or what?

Have a great time. Eat, drink and be merry... or simply do whatever makes you happy.

a bit of a manipulation

2016-02-10T12:11:56Z

I do like to see the lads standing nice and close together so, in this picture, I've drawn Ray a little nearer to his Bodie. Not by much because they were almost there anyway but every inch counts, don't you think?

wishing you all a very happy Christmas

2013-12-21T11:18:56Z

Prosfic!

2013-10-17T13:33:31Z

Here's a little something I've written on my holiday. Miraculous, or what?

The Perils of Partnerships by cornishcat

Perversely, Bodie acknowledged with pride that in the end it had taken a professional to bring him down… and finish him off.

He had finally stopped struggling against the restraints, having accepted the futility of it. He’d have gnawed through the ropes if he could have reached them but his hands were tied just that bit too high, just that bit too tightly and anyway, he couldn’t feel the bloody things any more and he wasn’t completely sure where, in the pitch black, they were now.

For a long time he was totally confident that Doyle would figure it out and come charging in, cursing him for getting caught like some wet-behind-the-ears recruit. There were so many occasions when they’d watched each other’s backs, kept each other safe or dragged each other out of some hell-hole but he felt too tired, too numb, to recall any one particular incident. He just knew that it was Ray who had kept him alive this long, much longer than he had expected to live considering the life he’d led.

But now it was too late even for the Seventh Cavalry and he just hoped Doyle wouldn’t be the one to come rushing in to find his body. There’d thankfully be no goodbyes, he hated those, but he’d give anything just to be able to say ‘I love you,’ one last time. So a message of sorts was needed, to give Ray some comfort, to know he was in his thoughts right to the very end.

With the last of his strength ebbing, he gathered together a contented smile and then let go, allowing the cold fingers of death to slide insidiously ever deeper.
…..

Doyle pottered distractedly in the kitchen, looking for new homes for a few of his accumulated pots and casserole dishes while he waited for the kettle to boil. Finding himself standing there with the battered frying pan in his hand, he realised that this was the first time in years that he’d lugged around his own boxes without Bodie there to help him move flats.

‘Bodie’, he whispered into the stillness.

Just the sound of his name took him unerringly to the chipped and stained Liverpool FC mug sitting forlornly on the top shelf. Reaching it down, he cupped it between his palms, searching for some residual warmth, a familiar smell, anything to reawaken his sense of its owner.

“Chuck that bloody thing away, will you? I’ll have my tea in something a little less disgusting, if you please.”

Doyle looked up over the rim and his breath hitched at the sight of Bodie leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed over his bare chest, with the diffuse early morning sunlight washing away the last of the colour from his familiar form.

Doyle still couldn’t get used to this; Bodie silently appearing whenever he was feeling maudlin.

“Oi! Anything going on under that curly mop of yours?” Bodie asked when there was no immediate response. “Ray?” Suddenly wary that a building fury was about to mark the end of a broody few days.

“You bastard!” Doyle spat after a long pause. “You just gave up, didn’t you? Gave up on life, gave up on us. I’ll never forgive you for this, you selfish, fucking bastard!”

Bodie straightened slowly, reached out an arm and drew Doyle in close, waiting patiently for the anger to burn itself out. He sighed with relief when he felt the tense muscles gradually relax beneath his own and, resting his head in the warm curve of Ray’s neck, he was reminded yet again of his recent fear, that he might never experience this again.

Doyle relented and hugged his partner tightly. Unfortunately, a supressed hiss of pain abruptly reminded him of the damage Bodie had sustained, and he let go quickly, stepping back to review the evidence. White bandages stood out starkly on Bodie’s wrists, a mishmash of dressings covered numerous other wounds and he was obviously favouring his right side.

“What the hell are you doing up again, you moron? You know the doc only allowed you home provided you rested… and you did promise.”

“It’s your fault, I could hear the bloody cogs whirring in that pea-brain of yours and the noise woke me up. Come on Ray; I’m alright, we’re alright. This isn’t the first time either of us ‘ave taken a bashing and it certainly won’t be the last, so why’re you so upset?”

Ignoring the question, Doyle carefully wrapped Bodie’s good arm over his shoulder and braced himself. “Come on, let’s get you back into bed. Can you manage to walk or do I need to carry you?”

“Gerroff, you berk!” but even with Doyle’s support, it still took them a good while, particularly as it involved a detour to the bathroom, Bodie having exhausted himself getting as far as the kitchen unaided in the first place.

As Doyle turned to fetch the promised sarnie and cup of tea, Bodie snagged his wrist, pulling him back down on the bed beside him. “Stay a bit? Hospitals are foul places; revolting food, too much noise and no decent conversation.”

Doyle kicked off his shoes, settled on top of the duvet and just listened to Bodie’s steady breathing, fully expecting him to drop off to sleep again quickly. He was therefore taken aback when there was a quiet demand. “Come on then, Ray. Spit it out.”

Doyle didn’t want this, didn’t want to have to recall those terrifying moments when he’d forced his way into the basement and, scanning the darkened room frantically with his torch, had found his partner’s body, broken and bloody, hanging from the long-disused overhead heating pipes.

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” he mumbled, really not wanting to hear himself say the words but now realising that he’d have to. “I thought you were dead. I couldn’t find your bloody pulse and you just lay there with a fuckin’ stupid grin plastered across your ugly mug.”

“But that was for you. I was thinking about you!”

“It was grotesque!”

“Oh… ”

“And you stank to high heaven!”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to see you hang around for days on end without so much as a wet tea bag available and then try and come out smelling sweetly of roses and lavender.”

“Suppose I’ll just have to keep some rubber gloves in my pocket, just in case you’re stupid enough to get strung up again.”

“Ooh, kinky!”

“Bod-ie!”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to be recuperating…”

“I’ll show you recuperation,” he said, as he guided Doyle’s hand beneath the covers.

a little gift for my flist

2012-08-27T18:13:20Z

Oops, it's been yonks since I lasted posted anything on my lj.

My life has taken a very unexpected and drastic turn recently but, hey ho, you sometimes just have to accept what's thrown at you and move on. One of the repercussions of my new perspective is that I'm on a bit of a health-improvement thing-y and feel loads better for it. I'm certainly more relaxed and have more enthusiasm to try different things.

Because it's raining heavily, today's new pastime really had to be an indoor one so I decided to attempt a spot of drawing and what greater subjects could I have than our gorgeous lads? This is what I came up with...

Hope I haven't done them too much of an injustice. I can see it's a bit harsh and heavy-handed but you have to start somewhere and you really can't expect to produce a masterpiece at your first attempt with a 6B pencil and a sheet of A4 photocopy paper!

(Bodie's left eye did my 'ead in and I ended up nearly rubbing a hole in the paper trying to get it to look reasonable. Even contemplated giving him an eye-patch, yo, ho, ho and hoist the jolly Roger, me mateys!)

Oh well, might try a bit of writing next! *g*

20 minute (holiday) drabble

2011-09-12T11:13:49Z

“Ah, go on!”
“Bodie -no!”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not bloody showing myself up!”
“It’ll be fun.”
“I said ‘no’. Look, just do it if you must, you don’t need me holding your hand!”

Doyle eventually found Bodie in the first-aid tent… sling concealing one arm, face grazed and bloodied, both knees heavily bandaged.
“You know, Cowley’s going to murder you. What possessed you to challenge that kid?”
“But you wouldn’t race me.”
“I can’t balance a penny-farthing, you moron… and clearly you can’t either! If you’d wanted a ride, why didn’t you wait till we got home?”

Bodie grinned.