Higher Ground
Costa Short Story Award 2020 – Highly Commended
The siren sounds around midnight. I’ve never got used to it. The eerie, wavering first note of the melody reverberates in my rib cage. Luckily, the kids always sleep through it; most do apparently. I pretend to read my book, the duvet pulled up to my chin. Paul is flicking though a gaming magazine. The siren slides into the second note in the scale. I expected that as it’s been raining for three days solid. But then another sounds. Three. That will be all tonight, surely, but no, the next one rings out, high and shrill, demanding our attention. I keep my gaze fixed ahead. Paul’s magazine drops. When yet another piercing warble follows, our heads jerk round to look at each other. Five?
I leap out of bed and throw open the window. The wind whips my hair. The rain is needles on my face.
‘How bad is it?’ Paul asks.
In the glow of the orange streetlights I see debris in the water moving slowly. ‘It’s not rushing in,’ I report. ‘No waves.’
I peer at the houses opposite. ‘It’s over the washboards. Way over.’ Below me a woman is moving slowly so the water doesn’t spill over the top of her waders, holding a bag on top of her head. ‘Waist high,’ I say.
Human Business
Where in the name of Hanuman is everyone? The street is silent – no roar of delivery trucks, no rattle of the shops’ metal shutters as they open for the day, no cries of shopkeepers greeting each other and yelling at us. Today the sun wakes me as it creeps round the side of the temple and streams through the window. Usually by this time, tourists are visiting, posing for photos and handing us food. Of course we see fewer in the rainy season and rely on the council workers to feed us. But I haven’t seen them either. Others begin to wake. You lie still, fear seizes me and I prod you until you stir. Some young ones are gathering on the edge of the park, waiting expectantly, looking around, confused, probably thinking the same as me – where is everyone?
Originally published at Globe Soup
Last Chance Mill
When Dawn and Douglas are sacked within months of each other they worry they’re past their best before dates. They come up with a plan to run art holidays and move to ramshackle Last Chance Mill in Devon. If they’re not ready for guests by the summer they’ll go bust but things keep going wrong.
Their neighbour, flirty Anastasia, is secretly doing her best to scupper their venture. As the impossible deadline approaches, their kids return from uni to help but family tensions surface and soon all hell breaks loose.
Can they put their grievances behind them, pull together and have the mill ready in time for their first guests?
A heart-warming story of starting over, family ties and unlikely friendships.
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Susan Iona Swan 