The House Near Fallowfield

Albert left the house, walked down the path to the gate. It was cold out in the street and he could see his breath come out as white smoke, as he walked under a lamp post. The night seemed invigorating and he decided to walk into the Village and buy some cigarettes and an evening newspaper.
He had enjoyed speaking to the girl and was now experiencing a fleeting moment of happiness. He wondered how old she was and decided no more than twenty five.
Perhaps a little younger rather than older.
She had dancing blue eyes, but how they had flashed and turned dark when he mentioned the taxi. Light brown hair, straight and cut short. A beautiful little face, narrow waist. Oh yes, the type of girl who marries an American and goes off to America.
Well, he thought, this one has come back.
He turned the corner at the end of the road and began walking towards the sweet and tobacconist's, which also served as a newsagent's.
The night was dark and part of the road unlit. He heard footsteps moving towards him. For just a moment he was back in the army, his senses alert.
An elderly gentleman passed him and then a young couple. Lamp posts again illuminated the pavement. He relaxed, wandered into the shop and waited his turn behind another customer.

Extract from Chapter One of
The House Near Fallowfield
by James Fillmore
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