All stories

Way down, down deep, where the light has never been Lies the cruellest, tallest and meanest, of all different extremes Tentacles and tails, flaps, twists and spikes Every shape you can think of, designed for fear and fright

But alongside these salty denizens, others too can live Meet one little dumbo octopus, who we shall call fizz She is a very special creature, a joy to behold She brings love and merriment, wherever she does go

“Don’t be mad, Mr Snaggletooth, with your face so full of hate I know it’s just because of that nasty big tooth ache Ill get the dentist” she would cry, and of she’d pop and get him And now there goes Mr Snaggletooth with a grin from fin to fin

You’re beautiful Mr Barellfish, and Fangtooth you’re a delight Fish by fish, and squid by squid, she turned their black to bright She never said a nasty word, shout or swear or vex Her only vice amongst the murderers, was that she liked a little bet

But still she laughed and danced her way, through the deep down gloom Bringing joy and laughter, like no one else could do No one knew, why would they? You never would have guessed That behind the mask of happiness, lay the misery of credit card debt

The signs were there if anyone, could see enough to check But when surviving is optional, you don’t stick out your neck Of course sometimes she hit it big, but the moment always passes Like the time she splashed out and bought, those Elton John sunglasses

The problem with life in the starless depths, is, you can’t hide in the dark A debt is a debt that must be paid when you borrow from these loan sharks And sadly for our little Fizz, well a smile you can’t hide behind So much for helping out... so much for being kind

The evil grin approaching, hid a different truth That no good deed is sharper than, a goblin sharks tooth And as the jaws began to close, she shed a single tear drop That in the oceans gentle wash, was instantly lost

But unknown to fizz someone had, been watching all along He’d watched her lend a helping fin, but knew something was wrong He’d seen the slow swim home, when the winning streak was no more He’d seen the wild spending sprees, drinking bubbles straight from the sea floor.

And who is this silent watcher? none other than Mr Snaggletooth of course And a snaggletooth’s bite, when freshly fixed, is really quite a force So watch now as little fizz, slowly opens up her eyes And Mr snaggletooth smiles and turns away, no need for goodbye

The moral of the story, as Fizz gently sighs and swims away Is to look beneath the surface, sometimes it’s a very long way But if you truly care enough, to swim way down, deep down You might just help to save a soul, and find the answer that you seek

She should have stuck to BBWCupid, but Janet in accounts had shown her a feature in Take A Break about Feeders. Instead Sandra went with Plenty Of Fish, uploaded a recent photo (one her sister had taken when they were in Lanzarote last Easter, Pina Colada in hand, oversized Elton John-esque sunglasses balanced on her head), entered her credit card details, and waited. The responses flooded in at first and Sandra scanned through them, amazed at the interest an overweight forty eight year old sales administrator could generate. One or two caught her eye, and within a fortnight she was chatting daily to William. Mid fifties, a paediatrician, never married (bit odd but not a deal breaker), and with more than a passing resemblance to George Clooney.

Six months later and Sandra stood waist deep in the shallow end of the local council swimming pool, tugging at the too tight strap of her tankini top (as it turns out, one size does not fit all). Adult swimming lessons were easily the second most humiliating thing she’d done in her adult life, but she gritted her teeth, pulled her flaps of her swimming cap down tighter over her ears, and with a determination fuelled by the promise of two weeks in Mauritius with Dr Clooney (William. Jesus, she had to start getting his name right), she plunged head first into the over chlorinated water.

Janet thought Sandra was crazy, going on holiday with a guy she had been chatting to online for six months but never met in real life. Sandra would normally have agreed, but she hadn’t had a shag in soooooo long, and he’d paid for the trip (beachfront five star hotel, business class flights), and anyway doing the sensible thing hadn’t exactly set her world on fire in the last forty eight years.

The snorkelling trip left early on the last morning. It was with a heavy heart that Sandra waited on the beach, kicking lightly at the sand with her bare feet. It turned out he was more George Osbourne than Clooney, and as the holiday progressed, Sandra could barely conceal her boredom in his company. Would she be single forever? She wasn’t getting any younger. Maybe George Osbourne was the best she was going to get. The boat pulled up, and two young dark skinned Mauritian men jumped out to pull it further to shore. The taller of the two she recognised as Vincent, the attentive pool bar attendant from the hotel. He reached and took Sandra’s hand and helped her step into the boat. He cast her a broad smile, straight white teeth gleaming in the early morning sun. ‘Welcome Miss Sandra. Your last day I believe?’ He mock punched his chest with his fist. ‘This makes me very sad.’ Sandra blushed as she caught William glare at Vincent.

The boat sped across Tamarin Bay before dropping anchor half a mile off shore. Sandra pulled the snorkel mask over her face and gingerly dropped into the warmth of the Indian Ocean. She had never snorkeled before, and couldn't believe the whole other world surrounding her. Slowly she swooped her arm in front of her, parting a shoal of bright blue and yellow butterfly fish. Yellow striped snapper and small neon fusiliers shimmered below her in the coral. Sandra thought of William. And Vincent. She smiled to herself as the sun beat down on her back. There really were plenty of fish in the sea.

She was a day tripper out of Falmouth, ill-suited to ploughing the slow rising swells bursting icy venom across her bows. She was twenty miles out, slow chug of her engine making a miserly seven knots. How many hours did the crew reckon before they made Norway?

Deep down Stuart knew it didn’t matter.

He was up front squished elbow to elbow on a wooden bench, sat with teachers and lawyers, and with management consultants and with doctors and librarians. What they shared was this journey and the grey hair and puckered skin that had Europe saying non and nein and nee.

Wifey hunkered in tight against the cold. Belowdecks was warm but up here was the sky and the good sea air to fill their lungs.

Maybe it was the Elton John sat on a bench facing them, back hunched resolute against the breaking spray. He had the floppy hair and the sunglasses, bright red rims the only slash of colour in this grey.

But of course not. His kind were well out of it, long gone from Blighty before this hell.

A choke from the engine, silence broken slowly as a murmur of unease rippled through the passengers. Wifey either asleep or made of stern stuff – not a flinch as the cries began.

And here came the crew, friendly smiles gone.

No more fuel. End of the trip, unless…

Stuart didn’t move. Habit held his wallet with him still, but this deal not even cash only. You have a wedding ring? You have something with a diamond? Stuart with a wallet built on plastic, everything not nailed down sold for this ticket.

As the lifeboat motor faded so to the broiling anger that scorned the fleeing crew. No mourning for the blood in the scuppers or bodies that twitched in example.

Peace had come, but not silence. People with tears to cry, Gods to call on.

Stuart Meadows sitting arm in arm with wifey, hands squeezed tight.

He said, ‘But the boys got out before the French closed the tunnels.’

A squeeze of his hand the only reply.

It can’t be Elton sitting there. Real Elton with a pocket full of rubies but theirs is statue still, the only life a trickle from beneath the rims of his glasses.

Ella is under the sea. Colourful fronds sway lazily all around her and a stingray flaps languidly past. She watches with fascinated eyes as it drifts away. Ella’s five and she’s never been to an aquarium before. There aren’t many other people here either. She’d imagined it as a busy place, but today the whirring and bubbling of the filters fills the space usually crammed with chattering families and boisterous school trips.

Earlier they’d visited the gift shop. Dad bought Ella a pile of toys on his credit card; pink glittery glasses, a stuffed octopus, some chocolate. Ella thinks it must be her birthday, but her birthday is in December and it’s only March.

Mam and Dad aren’t saying anything, so Ella becomes a mermaid, fingers stickily trailing along the acrylic tunnel, pretending that the pressure she can feel is just part of life beneath the waves. She spins, filling her long hair with sea-bubbles. She has a beautiful shimmering green tail, and...

“Ella?”

Mam’s voice cuts through the water. Ella drops her arms, opens her eyes.

“Daddy needs to tell you something.”

Ella hears Mam’s voice shaking. She looks at Dad, searching for that ‘uh, oh’ eye-roll they share when Mam gets ‘emotional’. But Dad’s looking at the floor.

“Lisa, do I have to…”

“Daniel. You’ve done this, you tell her. You don’t get to be the fun guy this time”

Mam sounded like she was going to cry. Again. This was the first time they’d seen Dad in weeks, Ella had been so excited when Mam had let them come to the aquarium instead of school. Why is she spoiling it?

“Alright” Dad sighs “Ella? Listen. I’ve got to go away for a while.”

“On a trip? For work?” Ella is dancing again. Her fingers trail through a shoal of rainbow-coloured fish She isn’t looking at Dad, pretending away the strangeness.

“No. This time I won’t be coming back to live with you and Mam.”

“Ever?” Ella stops. Dad had gone away before, but always came back.

Dad looks at Mam, who turns away. Rolling his eyes, Dad turns back to Ella.

“Yes, love. Now, you remember Kelly, don’t you?”

Ella made a face. Horrible Kelly with her stupid orange hair.

“Kelly’s having a baby - your little brother or sister! Now you’re a big girl I’ll need to help Kelly when the baby comes. I’m not going to have much time to...”

“But I don’t want to be away from you.” Ella feels the panic rising. Mam wouldn’t make Dad go - not forever?

Dad hugs her then and she sinks into his warm reassurance. But too soon he lets go and she’s adrift in the deserted aquarium.

And Mam is pushing Dad away and blocking Ella from running to him and Dad is shouting and Ella is crying and Dad is walking away and Ella doesn’t understand what’s happening, but Dad is gone and Ella isn’t a mermaid anymore, just a confused girl in pink glittery glasses.