No Gangplank Feet



Will you help me with a litle experiment? If I ask nicely?


Thing is, I'm working with a digital marketing expert to create a fiction only web-site. Part of the attraction is intended to be an invitation, on the first of each month, to 'take time out' for a cup of coffee and a quick read free of charge. I'm interested in the optimum target read-time for the story - 2 or 5 or 10 or 15 minutes. Will you e-mail me with the gen on how long it takes you to read the following brand new story. It's a very very short one, don't panic! Ttoo short for purpose? Let me know?

No gangplank feet.     

He had to give up trying to dislodge the ginger tom from his lap. What was it with Brits and cats? ‘Thanks for seeing me Mrs Roberts,’ he said, ‘It’s a long way from LA but you know how it is. Guess we all want to know where we came from.’
‘That’s all right, love. Alvin, you said? Took me right back you did.’ The old lady indicated the framed photo in his hands. ‘She were my best friend, your grannie. She gave it me. That’s her, Daisy, second in from right. The Big Bang Club we called ourselves.’ She chuckled. ‘But different meaning today. In the war we used to go off shift at t’ bomb factory, quick wash and change then the dancing at Burtonwood. All those lovely Yankee jitterbuggers! You know what they used to call us in the war, Alvin? ‘The girls wi’ gangplank feet,’ that’s what they called us.’ She laughed again, shook her silvery head; ‘I only wished I’d had ‘em, meself. Not that there’s ‘owt wrong with here.’ She paused as if in defence, as if to remember then, ‘Any road, I can remember your grandfather going off  back to the States then coming for your daddy when he were still just a little bit of a baby. After Daisy died. He were right shook up, were Hank. That there high explosive stuff we were making bombs of? It killed more than just those bloody Germans over time, that knows.’
‘Yeah? I guess it did. Anyway as I said, grandfather passed away last year. He’d often told me about it, how he’d tried to get grannie out to LA after the war finished but she wouldn’t go.’ 
‘Hank told you that? Maybe it’s right but that’s what they all said, Alvin, after they’d had their wicked way and got away, like. Oh well, it’s just human nature.’ Outside in the street a dog barked. The ginger tom dug in his claws. The picture went flying, broke up in the fireplace. Amongst the pieces he found an ancient, unused BOAC ticket: Manchester - Los Angeles, one way.                                            ENDS

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