OUR GUEST AUTHOR, SARAH MCMAHON, SHARES A BRIEF BIO AND A GREAT EXCERPT FROM HER NOVEL, 'THE SINS OF ATTICUS HAWKSHAW'

AUTHOR BIO

I am a writer from Leeds, in the North of England. To date I have self-published two novels (Here She Comes Now and the Sins of Atticus Hawkshaw). Both are adult urban fiction with Here She Comes Now being based around the red-light district of a large city. The Sins of Atticus Hawkshaw has historical and supernatural layers to its principal focus of the issue of homelessness. I have written a number of short stories, which can be found on the Armley Press website https://www.armleypress.com. Currently I am working on a further two novels which I hope to complete (at least one of them) this year. I have chosen an excerpt from my second novel, The Sins of Atticus Hawkshaw for this blog.

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EXCERPT

CHAPTER 1

‘You’ve been drinking.’

My boss seemed furious. I shuffled my bulk in the rigid office chair, attempting to straighten up from my usual slouch. The hard profile of my metal hip flask nudged, knowingly, against my side.

‘No, really, I haven’t. I swear, I'm just feeling a little unwell today that’s all. I think I have a virus.'

I sniffed a little and forced out a weak dry cough for effect.

‘You fell asleep at your desk this morning and I can smell it on you.’

I wondered why she had asked the question when she so clearly knew the answer. Should I protest that you can't smell vodka on a person’s breath? I thought better of it.

She doesn't know the half of it, of course. If she thinks this is drunk, then she ain't seen nothing.

I attempted to sound contrite.

‘Look, I’m sorry. Things are a bit up in the air for me right now. At home, I mean. I didn't mean to bring it to work with me. You have my word that it won't happen again.’

‘I’m afraid your word doesn't mean very much, does it? Because this has happened a number of times before, hasn't it? Plus, there is, of course, this morning’s ‘incident’. What have you got to say about that?’

I affected a look, of what I hoped to be surprised innocence. I could tell from her face that she wasn’t buying it.

She had started pacing back and forth behind her desk, causing the sunlight that was already annoyingly streaming in from the window to strobe. I dearly want to tell her to sit the hell down, but the tiny sober part of my brain told me that I should keep quiet.

Boss lady paused to stare me out again, a mixture of frustration and disgust writ across her face. She never had liked me, even without a belly full of booze.

Slam!

Her hands smacked down hard on the desk.

‘So, do please tell me what you were actually thinking this morning? That poor young couple were so upset, and more importantly, we lost a sale!’

Yeah, that’s it, you utter harridan, get your priorities right, I thought.

I shrugged a little.

‘I don’t know, I thought they took it quite well.’

‘Took it quite well? Are you having a bloody laugh? This is no joke, you know. I mean, where do we start? You took their car keys, then refused to give them back. You swore at them.’

I bit my tongue, desperately wanting to point out that she had just done that exact thing to me. The swearing, I mean, not the car keys. Since I've been back on the sauce, I’ve packed in the driving. Even in my cycles of denial and acceptance, I recognised that the drink and driving just don't mix.

‘They were kind of being arses.’

I knew that it was red rag to a bull, but they really had been.

Boss lady spluttered, and her face turned a lovely shade of pinky-red. It made me thirsty for a nice rosé, and I idly wondered if I could get her angry enough to turn her head into a juicy Rioja.

‘Well, that is indicative of your attitude to our customers. When I think of all the chances I have given you, and since day one, you have let me down. You have messed around, your sales figures have never been at an acceptable level for the company, and now, on top of your appalling outburst this morning, you have the nerve to insult the very same customers!’

‘Yeah, but …’

‘Yeah, but nothing. We are here to sell quality secondhand cars, and that is all.’

‘What, so I don’t even get the right of reply, a chance to explain myself?’

She looked close to exploding but managed to take a breath.

‘Okay, I like to consider myself to be a fair manager. Give it your best shot.’

‘Well, that couple came in first thing this morning, and I could see they were time-wasters from the get go. They wandered about for two hours, asking me to get keys for millions of cars.’

I do love a good exaggeration.

‘I mean, basically, they were massive procrastinators, and I knew they were never gonna buy anything.’

I was warming to my story now. I leant forward and straightened my jacket. The movement caused the hip flask to thud against the chair. The liquid within it glugged, as if I was taking a good gulp. I hoped she hadn't noticed, although I’m pretty sure she had. But she let me continue.

‘So, I was stuck with these no-hopers, and company policy being that you stick it out until you get a sale, I couldn't very well dump them, could I? So yes, I was frustrated seeing other buyers coming in and other members of the team making sales. Yes, I got a little tetchy with them, and I swore. I mean, I’m only human.’

‘But you were going to get a sale from them, weren’t you? You had them in the office with the paperwork, poised to sign.’

‘Hmm, well yes, that is the case, but they were taking so damn long to read everything. They discussed each blasted page of the agreement. But to cap it all, after all that effort, all MY effort, they decided not to go through with it. I think I was justified in being a tad annoyed by that point.’

‘Yes, but why didn't they go through with it, eh? Why?’

‘Okay, okay, I admit that I did tell them to get on with it.’

‘Err no, what you did was tell them to get – and I quote – “a fucking move on, you wankers”. Isn’t that how it went?’

‘Might have been.’

‘And then you ripped up the contract, and they say you were virtually snarling at them as you did so. Then you totally lost it. You picked up a chair and threw it across the room, shattering the glazed partition and showering them with glass.’

‘You make it sound so dramatic.’

‘It was bloody dramatic! Thank goodness no one was injured.’

‘What can I say? We all have our breaking points.’

‘What does that mean, huh? Are you saying this violent outburst is not the first time? You’ve actually thrown furniture around before?’

‘Well, if I’m honest, yes. I’m not proud of it, of course.’

I hung my head a little, hoping it looked apologetic. Unfortunately, the vodka had loosened my neck muscles, and my head bobbed up and down, like one of the nodding dogs you used to see perched on the back seats of cars. She must surely have concluded that I was not taking our 'little talk' seriously.

The flat, hard line of her mean little mouth opened again.

‘No, I'm sorry, but this is just not workable. You need to get yourself sorted out, and we need someone who can do the job, properly and safely. You’re just too unpredictable, and after today, there is no way we can trust you to treat our customers with respect. The company simply has no choice now. We have to let you go.’

Oh crap, sacked.

Letting me go made it sound like they were doing me some kind of favour. Yeah right, thanks for nothing, more like.

But I can’t pretend I didn't know it was coming. The supportive friendly chats over the past few weeks had turned into disciplinary discussions as my behaviour had worsened. Being caught in the toilets, swigging from a bottle at break time, and that time the cleaners had found me passed out after everyone else had gone home. It was all a little too obvious, wasn’t it?

Not that I really cared that much about the job. It was, after all, a shitty second-hand car dealership. The main aim here was to forcefully sell poorly maintained, overpriced, and sometimes downright dangerous vehicles, that the fools we offloaded them onto neither really wanted or needed. I was never a good fit for it. I hated the pushy approach to it all, the way they wanted you to harass the mugs that came in here. Keep them here all day till you had worn them down to the point of accepting the astronomically high interest rate deal on some old rust bucket.

Still, annoying to be finished like this, as it did mean an end to my main source of funds to buy, amongst other things, drink.

‘You're quite the bitch when you want to be, aren't you?’

I had sealed my fate.

‘Get out.’

‘Don't worry, I'm off, and you lot can all go fuck yourselves.’

I rose from my chair, swaying a little. It kinda undermined my cool, but at this point I couldn't have cared less.

‘You need help,’ she said as I left her office.

‘Not as much as you do.’

I cursed myself for this feeble playground response. Really, I could do better than this under normal circumstances. To reinforce my childish behaviour, I let the door slam hard behind me.

Back at my desk, I noisily gathered my belonging, muttering profanities under my breath.

One of the drones I sat opposite, Charisma or Charm or some such ridiculously named girl, gave me a pitying look.

‘Are you okay?’

She pouted at me, feigning sympathy.

‘Look Chlamydia, or whatever your goddamn name is.’

I can be a little mean when drunk.

She sniffed hard.

‘It’s Chandice.’

‘Well look, Chandice, I don't need your pity or your fake concern. I'm glad to be leaving this shithole and you brainless bunch.’

Yeah, like I said, I'm really not very nice when I’m drunk.

‘No need to be so rude.’

‘Isn't there?’ I retorted.

With which, I deftly swept up my coat and bag and stood to make my grand exit. My dignity was only a little dented by my managing to trip over the leg of my chair. Drink on an empty stomach will do that to you. Some stifled, but also some more overt laughter, leaked from the throats of my bottom-feeding colleagues.

‘Bastards,’ I growled, heading for the door. I could see that my boss had kindly arranged for our security guard to come and show me the way out. Playing along, I held my hands up in mock surrender.

‘No need for any assistance my good man, I know my way.’

I flashed the room my best fixed grin. Even to the last, I wasn't going to let this lot see that they had in any way ground me down.

CHAPTER 2

It was still mid-afternoon when I was ejected from the car dealership. Not that I was unwilling to go.

Hated the job, hated the people.

The whole ethos of pushy sales sickened me. The idea that you should be willing to say anything to win a sale was, and always had been, abhorrent to me.

Maybe that’s what had driven me to the drink?

Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s an easy get out. Blame the crap job for my own deficiencies. But surely it had to have played a part, right?

Whatever. The outcome was that I was unemployed.

I needed a drink, but that was the last thing I should be doing right now.

So just how does a drunk, who’s trying not to drink, pass the time?

The dealership was on the edge of the town centre. I found myself walking on autopilot towards the centre, with no thought to what to do next.

Being in the town centre was sure to be a trial of temptation, and I wasn’t one for trailing around the shopping centres. For one thing, I didn’t have the money. Plus, the state I was in, they would probably take one look at me and escort me from their premises.

It seemed like every street corner, every alleyway, every goddamn arcade in this town had a bloody pub or an up-itself bar on it. All wafting out heady, intoxicating fumes from the bar pumps, or so it appeared to a thirsty soul like me.

Man, I so needed a drink.

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COMING SOON: On Friday, 2nd May, our amazing team member and author, Lorraine Carey, shares a chapter from her novel, 'Between the Realms'.