Author Archives: Ellen

Frankie and Dad are leaning on the railings facing the river, the sun’s going down over Dunston Staithes. Frankie’s staring hard at the water not looking up, waiting for Dad to say something, but Dad says nowt. A young couple … Continue reading →

his eyes are wet: I’m not proud of me Dad but I loved him: his smell, washed after work, his jokes, how he tickled me. I remember later feeling angry with him me mam keening. Now I cannot remember me … Continue reading →

to Dolly, who’s upset by what she imagines they had to go through, says she was too young to really remember. She says C’mon, this has got to be sorted out. That night after work, with another bottle of whiskey … Continue reading →

at the Library: Local Studies where old men read newspapers look at books about Pits and Shipyards remembering the old days. Bob greets him with a handshake, they sit on easy chairs; he has a briefcase, pulls out an old … Continue reading →

for something to wear, he pulls out the jacket worn once for Nan’s funeral. He tries it on and turns in front of the mirror, shoving his hands into the pockets. He finds a piece of paper, screws it up … Continue reading →

He stays at Aunty Dolly’s, works at the Singing Hinny, goes swimming with Corinne. He says, as they lap the pool: Why did Grandad go so far away, make it all so final? Turning over all the words in the … Continue reading →

Well, ye’ve all seen it now. I’ve got ter get things done. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand then points at Frank: I’ll speak to you later, and turns away. Frankie watches his Dad’s back as … Continue reading →

Dolly goes to stand at the double doors to light a tab. Eventually she sighs: So you knew. All this time. Aye. Yer knew about him gannin away. All this time. But yer never said anything ter me? He was … Continue reading →

There’s a pile of faded papers and an envelope on top – Dad takes it out, gives it to Dolly. The envelope is yellowing and furry at the corners the stamp is a man’s head with a pointed nose, wearing … Continue reading →

all those years ago about his Dad’s locked cupboard at the garage. Dolly’s not sure: Could be anything – bills old love letters from yer mam.. her voice trails off, Frankie says But what if it was something about Grandad? … Continue reading →