The Mice Will Play

Members writing in the style and using the characters of W.E.J. (Fan Fiction)

The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 10:59

It's been awhile since the lads stopped by to tell me a story. I would like to thank TS for the suggestion that started the ball rolling.

I really hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading. :hellochap:

**

Thursday

Biggles replaced the phone in its cradle and drummed thoughtfully on the tabletop with his fingers.

“Everything okay, chief?” asked Ginger from where he sat in a chair by the fireplace, reading a magazine.

“That was Dickpa,” Biggles replied. “He’s got the family solicitor coming round tomorrow, and he’d like me there to go over some of the finer points of his will.” Biggles sighed. “He’s not getting any younger, so I suppose I’d better go, though I don’t like the idea of leaving you here all by yourself.”

Ginger shrugged. “I’ll be all right. I’ve managed on my own before today.”

Biggles smiled fondly. “I know you have, laddie. But don’t forget Mrs. Symes is away at her sister’s until Monday, so you’ll have to go out if you need food. I’ll make sure to leave you plenty of money, so you won’t starve. I’m not sure how long I’ll be needed at Dickpa’s, but surely not for more than two or three days.”

“Algy is due back from his parents’ place on Sunday night, and he’s likely to catch an earlier train if – make that when – his mother drives him round the bend,” Ginger reminded him. “So really it’s only for Friday afternoon and Saturday. If I can’t look after myself for a day and a half, I’m in really poor shape.”

Biggles hesitated. “I might ring Smyth and ask him to check in on you.”

Ginger brushed off that suggestion with an impatient gesture. “Honestly, Biggles. I’ll be fine. Quit mother-henning.”

Biggles grinned. “Sorry. I’d best go see about packing a bag. I’ll leave after breakfast tomorrow and be at Dickpa’s in time for lunch.”

But things would not go exactly according to plan…
"For goodness sake stop that Yankee drawl, or you'll have us all doing it before you've finished."
"OK baby - sorry - I mean, righto."
"That's better."
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby tiffinata » 12 Aug 2016, 11:18

Oh oh.... surely Biggles knows better than to leave Ginger on his own.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Spitfire Girl 1 » 12 Aug 2016, 11:21

Good to see this posted KK, looking forward to more! Just what will Ginger get up to... :D
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby RAAF Spitfire Girl » 12 Aug 2016, 13:09

Oh goody!!! Looking forward to seeing how this plays out. Fancy Biggles thinking he could leave Ginger alone and not have anything happen... :lol: :lol:
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Kismet » 12 Aug 2016, 13:14

Will Biggles regret not sending Ginger off to stay with Smyth? Leaving a teenager home alone is risky.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 16:21

Friday

Ginger waved goodbye as Biggles’ Bentley pulled away from Mount Street, then, feeling rather bored, he wandered around the flat for a while, organizing and adjusting the books and knickknacks on the shelves in the living room. He finished pasting up a few photos from their most recent adventure in his scrapbook, then put it away. After that, he went through his collection of aviation magazines, clipping out a few noteworthy articles and stopping to re-read some of the more entertaining sections, but this didn’t occupy as much time as he had hoped. By lunchtime, he was thoroughly and completely bored.

Ginger regarded his reflection in the mirror on his dressing table. “What should I do?” he wondered aloud, his voice sounding curiously loud in the otherwise empty flat. He jingled his pockets and felt the weight of the extra money Biggles had given him to cover expenses while he was gone. Ginger grinned at his reflection. There was only one thing to be done. Go out.

**

Ginger wandered down Mount Street, enjoying the late summer sunshine, and found a small café, where he bought himself a sandwich. He could, he reasoned, spend as little as possible on food, and he would have enough spare change to catch a flick at the Plaza that evening. As he finished up his sandwich, it occurred to him that nearly all of the people he knew in London were technically Biggles and Algy’s friends, and while they were happy enough to have Ginger along for nights out, they probably wouldn’t be too keen on hanging out with him by himself.

He toyed with the idea of inviting the pretty girl who worked behind the counter at the stationery shop to come with him to the flicks, but quickly dismissed this idea. They went into the shop all the time, and it would be too embarrassing if she said ‘no’… and he’d never hear the end of it from Algy if she said ‘yes.’ And anyway, he grumbled to himself, kicking a pebble on the pavement, she probably already had a boyfriend.

He wandered slowly through the streets of Mayfair, generally in the direction of the cinema on Regent Street, where he checked the times of the films for that evening. There was nothing he felt particularly strongly about seeing, but he decided it was better than hanging about doing nothing, so he bought himself a ticket. There was an hour yet before the film started, so he wandered down to Trafalgar Square, stopping periodically to poke around in interesting shops here and there, half hoping he might run into someone he knew, the way Biggles often did, but in this he was disappointed.

He checked his watch after a bit, and decided to walk back to the cinema, which he did. The film was all right, nothing special, and when it had finished, it was time for dinner. Ginger wandered about rather aimlessly for about an hour, before heading back to Mayfair, stopping to buy himself some fish and chips on the way. He was eating as he walked, licking the salt off his fingers, when he rounded the corner and bumped – literally – into the girl from the stationery shop.

After the initial embarrassment and apologies from both sides, she said “That smells really good. I’ve been on my feet all day and I haven’t had a chance to eat anything.”

“Would you like some?” Ginger asked, holding out his parcel. “There’s plenty.”

“Let’s sit down,” she said, steering him to a bench. “I don’t want to fall on anybody else.”

He grinned. The evening was looking up.

They conversed about trivial things for about twenty minutes. When they had finished the chips, she looked at her watch and said with real regret “I’m sorry, I need to catch my bus. I live with my uncle and he gets cross if I’m late.”

Ginger nodded, wishing he could think of something witty or charming to say, but he just blurted “I’m having a little party tomorrow night.” (Why did I just say that? he wondered.) “Can you come? It’s just down the street from your shop. Number Sixteen. It says ‘Bigglesworth’ on the bell.”

She looked surprised, but pleased. “I think so. I’ll have to think of something to tell my uncle. He’ll probably make me bring my cousin. He doesn’t like me going out alone, but otherwise he’s not too bothered about how I spend my time.”

“That’s okay,” Ginger said brightly. “The more the merrier!”

Oh, Lord. Why did I just say that? Now I have to find some other people to invite or she’ll think I’m some kind of idiot.

But she smiled at him as she rose from the bench and walked toward the bus queue, and he forgot everything else.

It wasn’t until later, as he let himself into the flat, that he realized he had no idea who else he might call and invite to his little soirée. Or what he should buy, to have something to serve his guests. Or what money he would use to do so. Biggles had given him enough to feed himself for the weekend, but he hadn’t given him that much.

Ginger wracked his brains and went through some papers in his desk and came up with the names of two lads from his engineering course whose families were in the phone directory. He rang them up straight away and asked if they’d like to come round the following evening for a little party. He asked them if they had knew the phone numbers of any of the other boys from Brooklands, but they didn’t.

“No problem,” Ginger told them each before he hung up the phone. “If you're at Brooklands tomorrow, and you see them about, you might mention it.”

It briefly occurred to him that Biggles might not appreciate him having several people over at once, but Biggles hadn’t said he couldn’t invite a few friends around. And anyway, Biggles and Algy had friends over all the time.

It was just a few friends, he told himself. They’d find something to eat and listen to the wireless or a record on the gramophone, maybe play a game of cards or something. What could go wrong?
"For goodness sake stop that Yankee drawl, or you'll have us all doing it before you've finished."
"OK baby - sorry - I mean, righto."
"That's better."
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Spitfire Girl 1 » 12 Aug 2016, 16:48

Ah, teenage logic... what could possibly go wrong!
Looking forward to the mayhem :lol:
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Kismet » 12 Aug 2016, 17:30

I wonder what sort of an example Biggles and Algy set, when they have friends round?

Waiting for the train wreck, KK.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby SopwithCamel » 12 Aug 2016, 18:06

Kismet wrote:I wonder what sort of an example Biggles and Algy set, when they have friends round?



Probably similar to the atmosphere in a Mess? Lots of drinking, boasting, and random gambling...

While I'm enjoying the story immensely, I rather think that Ginger was the sort of kid who took himself overly seriously and thus tended to be more responsible than others would have been at his age. His awe of Biggles (and to a certain extent, Algy) would probably also have kept him out of a lot of trouble. In fact, in Flies West, I get the impression that he really had grown up quicker even compared to others in the same era or even those living in similar conditions.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 18:15

Ginger, yes. His guests? That's anyone's guess.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 18:28

Saturday

Ginger slept in on Saturday morning, enjoying the solitude and the fact that nobody came in to tell him he was ‘burning daylight.’ He rolled out of bed around one in the afternoon, and only then because he was starving. Heading out into the bright sunshine, he went into a café, where he had a small sandwich and a cup of tea. He decided he should probably buy some food to offer to his guests that evening, so he next went to a bakery and got a few small things. He was just paying the bill when the girl from the stationery shop walked in.

“Oh, hello,” she said, smiling brightly. She nodded at the pastries the baker was boxing up. “Are those for tonight?”

Ginger nodded enthusiastically. “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I told my uncle I was going out to the cinema with a couple of girls I work with, so I can’t stay too late,” she said with a shy smile. “I still have to bring my cousin. She’s all right though, she won’t tell. I’m excited about going to a party at such a posh address. Will there be a lot of people there?”

“Not too many,” Ginger said vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed.

She collected her order and said “Well, see you later. What time should we come over?”

Ginger hadn’t thought about that. “Oh,” he said. “What time do you finish work?”

“Six.”

“Come over right after. I’ll be there.”

She gave him a smile and disappeared out the door with her purchases. The man behind the bakery counter gave Ginger a wink.

“Havin’ a party, eh, sonny?” he asked.

Ginger shrugged. “A small one. Just some friends over.”

The baker nodded sagely and tapped his nose with a flour-coated forefinger. “The Major’s away then, is he?”

Ginger went scarlet.

The baker laughed. “When the cat’s away…” he chortled.

Ginger hurriedly grabbed his box and scurried out of the shop. He paused on the pavement outside, thinking about the baker’s words. Surely Biggles won’t mind, he thought, giving himself a mental shake. It’s just a few people.

**Saturday Night**

Ginger waited nervously for the clock to strike six, pacing back and forth on the hearth rug. He was worried that nobody would come, but this, he came to realize shortly, was not what he should have been worried about. It so happened that the two lads he had called from his engineering course had been working at Brooklands earlier that day, and each had mentioned to a few friends that Ginger was having a party. Word spread quickly.

There stood, in Biggles’ living room, a tall glass-fronted cabinet that held a wide variety of objects. The top shelf was full of small trophies for minor competitions at Brooklands or the Aero Club that they had earned, singly or together, and a couple of souvenirs of their travels. The next two shelves held numerous drinking glasses of various shapes, the names of most of which Ginger had not yet learned, despite a bit of tutelage from Algy.

There was a decanter with some sherry on the next shelf down, and a couple bottles of other decent, but not terribly expensive, beverages that Biggles and Algy enjoyed periodically and offered to their guests. The lowest level held a handful of other assorted bottles, most of which had been received as gifts from well-meaning friends and acquaintances over the years. Most of these were not to Biggles’ liking, or else were being saved for some unspecified “special occasion.”

Ginger had never been particularly interested in its contents. Biggles had given him a glass of port last Christmas, and he hadn’t really enjoyed it, though he had pretended to. Having seen his father the worse for drink too often in childhood, Ginger had never been tempted to sample any of the others.

His visitors, however, held no such compunctions.

**
"For goodness sake stop that Yankee drawl, or you'll have us all doing it before you've finished."
"OK baby - sorry - I mean, righto."
"That's better."
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Fairblue » 12 Aug 2016, 18:32

I'm really enjoying this, KK. Thank you.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby SopwithCamel » 12 Aug 2016, 18:57

Ginger slept in on Saturday morning, enjoying the solitude and the fact that nobody came in to tell him he was ‘burning daylight.’


Biggles, obviously. Algy is a friend to those who sleep in :love:

The top shelf was full of small trophies for minor competitions at Brooklands or the Aero Club that they had earned, singly or together, and a couple of souvenirs of their travels


Awwww *heart*

On an unrelated note, they seem to have an awful lot of drinks. Secret alcoholics? Discuss...
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 19:04

I don't think it's a lot. We have a drinks cabinet at our house that is full of bottles that were gifts - some of which we have had for years without opening. I've got a bottle of butterscotch schnapps that has moved with me three or four times and I haven't touched it since about 2004. Or I'll have a recipe that calls for an ounce of sherry or whatever, and I'll have to buy a whole bottle. I've got some Grand Marnier that I won in a raffle (at church!) and set of miniature weird flavored vodkas that were part of a gift basket my boss got and he didn't want them, yet I haven't been able to bring myself to throw away perfectly good drinks that a guest might some day want to try.

(So... party at my house?)
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Fairblue » 12 Aug 2016, 19:11

We had quite a few odds and ends when we came back from Italy. Like KK, it was because we were given bottles as gifts, usually as a thank you for a function we had hosted. One day, back in the UK we decided to make a concerted effort to use them, but as neither Mr FB nor I were keen on spirits our friends helped.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Kismet » 12 Aug 2016, 19:55

I, too, have a lot of odds and ends. There are various fruit and almond flavoured things that flavour a dessert dish once in a blue moon. A few strange bottles have been collected by daughter number one on her travels and have entered the cupboard only to stay within. A few have been left after parties, and I hang onto them because surely they'll come in useful one day. (I am a hoarder). There's a decent bottle of red, and another of champagne, awaiting a celebration. There are some bottles of sweet stuff the kids take to parties with them and keep in my cupboard in between times. There are bottles of tonic for the gin, which sit there for weeks as I don't often drink gin, and a half full bottle of whisky that I kept for my father's visits (he's been dead four years). Then of course, there are the strange things at the back which no one will accept responsibility for, and I think are the results of the bottles breeding in the dark.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 20:34

I thought I'd better post the ending before I go home for the day, or you'll be stuck waiting until Monday to find out what happens.

**

** Sunday **

Ginger sat in the middle of the living room, a bucket of sudsy water next to him, and he scrubbed at a spot on the carpet with a sponge, though he had far greater concerns awaiting his attention. A chair lay on its side, a number of books had fallen from the bookcase onto the floor, and the gramophone was tilted and perilously close to the edge of the sideboard. He looked up, startled, as a key rattled in the lock.

“Good heavens,” Algy exclaimed as the door swung open. “Did we have a burglary?”

Ginger shook his head mutely and resumed his scrubbing, hot tears of shame pricking at the edges of his eyes.

Algy came in and set down his traveling case, closing the door behind him. He eased the gramophone back to its normal position and righted the chair, sitting himself in it.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

“I was lonely,” Ginger said, sitting back on his haunches, setting the sponge back in the bucket.

“So… you decided to tip over the furniture and throw the books on the floor?”

Ginger made a face. “I called up a couple blokes I know from Brooklands, to see if they could come round and keep me company,” he began. “I was only going to have a couple of friends over, I swear, but they each called a couple of people, and then they each called a couple of people…”

“Uh huh,” Algy said, settling back in his chair, trying not to smile. “I know how that works.”

“Oh, and Algy…” Ginger hesitated. “They drank your Glen… Glenfi…”

“Glenfiddich,” Algy supplied helpfully.

“Yeah.” Ginger nervously bit his lip, waiting for Algy’s reaction.

Algy looked momentarily annoyed, but then he shrugged. “Matthew will probably give me another bottle at Christmas. What else?”

“Someone finished off your crème de menth.”

“Thank goodness,” Algy said easily with a shrug. “It’s about time! I was wondering how long it would take me to finish that bottle. Goodness knows how long it sat there.”

Ginger breathed a sigh of relief that Algy wasn’t furious at him, and then something else occurred to him. “Oh, and someone got sick all over the bathroom.”

That,” said Algy, making a face. “Is disgusting. And I’m not helping you clean that. But I will put the books away.” He bent over and collected some volumes and began inserting them into the gaps in the bookcase. He paused. “How come there are books on the floor anyway? Did you suddenly decide that you needed some knowledge?”

Ginger blushed. “Lainey …”

“Who’s Lainey?”

“The girl from the stationery shop. Her proper name’s Elaine.”

Algy raised an eyebrow. “Continue. I’m curious now as to why you need an encyclopedia to learn about girls. I thought Biggles covered the basics years ago.”

Ginger made a face. “Oh, stop it. Anyway, Thomas was being an ass and he shook up his beer and sprayed her blouse – it was white, you see.”

“Who’s Thomas? Wait, never mind about that. You had a damsel in distress, in our flat, and you offered her… an encyclopedia?”

Ginger glared at him. “No, I didn’t. I hit Thomas.”

“With the encyclopedia?”

“No. With my fist. Quit interrupting.”

“All right,” Algy made a sweeping, theatrical gesture. “Please, continue.”

“Anyway, I punched Thomas and then he lunged at me, but Lainey kicked him really hard in the… well… you know. That’s when he got sick on the floor.”

“In the living room?”

“Yes.”

Algy screwed up his face in disgust. “What then?” he asked.

“Then he got up and sort of lunged at Lainey, so she grabbed a book off the shelf and walloped him upside the head with it. The other books kind of fell off when she grabbed the first one.”

“Ah, so that explains the encyclopedia,” Algy commented dryly. “At last.”

“But she knocked him out.”

“That’s quite a girl you’ve managed to find.”

Ginger stifled a smile. “But then we had an unconscious drunk on our floor. Oh, and vomit.”

“Lovely.”

“Andrew and I managed to drag him downstairs.”

“Wait,” broke in Algy, holding up a hand. “Who the hell is Andrew?”

“A boy from my engineering course at Brooklands. He’s the one who got sick in the bathroom – but that was later.”

Algy buried his head in his hands. “How many people did you have over?”

“I’m not sure. At least eight. It changed a bit as the night went on, some people came and others left.”

Algy rolled his eyes. “Go on. You dragged Thomas downstairs and…”

“He was sort of coming around by then. So we put him in a taxi and told the driver to take him to the train station. The driver looked a bit upset, but I paid him extra.”

“I bet you did. And having got rid of your obnoxious drunk friend, what happened next? This is getting good.”

“Well, then Kate…”

“Kate? Kate?! You had more than one female over? How did you manage to meet these lovely ladies anyway?”

“She’s Lainey’s cousin. She was supposed to be her chaperone, but it turns out she really likes the Glen…Glenfi… That stuff your brother gave you. Anyway, she was awfully tipsy and trying to help Lainey with the beer on her blouse, but she rather made it worse, so then …”

Algy closed his eyes. “Dare I ask?”

“I kind of had to borrow one of Mrs. Symes’ blouses,” Ginger said sheepishly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

Borrow?” Algy raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. She promised to bring it back – and anyway, it means I get to see her again.”

“And how are you going to explain to Mrs. Symes that the girl from the stationer’s has her blouse?”

Ginger shrugged. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Algy grinned. “Let me know when you do. I want to watch.” Algy stood up. “I’m going to unpack. You keep scrubbing. By the way, where was Biggles when all of this was going on?”

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t know. He went to Dickpa’s for the weekend.”

“You were home alone. And you had a party.” Algy gave him a flat look.

“He didn’t say not to,” Ginger protested feebly.

“Well, no, but I bet he didn’t say ‘Sure, go ahead. Invite a whole load of people over and let them drink all my booze and vomit in my living room,’ did he?” Algy asked with biting sarcasm.

“Well… no.”

Algy gave Ginger a hard look. Ginger dropped his gaze back to his sponge and bucket. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling very small.

Algy sighed. “Keep cleaning. I’m going to unpack and then we’ll sort out what to do next. And for the love of Mike, the bathroom had better not smell.”

“Uh… don’t go in there yet. I haven’t got that far.”

Algy groaned.

**

By the time Biggles arrived home several hours later, Ginger had managed to air out and scrub the flat to a respectable level of cleanliness, albeit with a great deal of help (and quite a few scathing comments) from Algy.

Biggles tossed his hat onto the rack and plopped himself into his chair by the fire. “So, how did you manage while I was away?”

“Oh, fine,” Ginger said casually. “I went to the flicks on Friday, and I had a couple friends from my course at Brooklands round on Saturday to listen to a concert on the wireless.”

Biggles looked up. “Nothing crazy, I hope.”

“No, just your average, run-of-the-mill Saturday night,” Ginger said innocently.

Biggles looked at him suspiciously. “Uh huh,” he muttered. “Right.” He looked around the living room. “You managed not to destroy anything, so I suppose you managed to keep things under control.”

The buzzer sounded before he could comment further and Ginger jumped up eagerly saying: “I’ll get it!” and he ran down the steps in some haste.

Biggles exchanged a puzzled look with Algy. “What the devil…?”

Algy shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Ginger reappeared a short while later, and gave a small parcel to Biggles. “The fountain pens you ordered came in at the stationer’s.”

“They delivered them?” Biggles asked, surprised.

Ginger shrugged. “Yeah.”

Biggles shook his head and went to put them in his desk.

Algy nudged Ginger. “Mrs. Symes’ wardrobe is all set for her return tomorrow?” he murmured.

“Yup.”

Algy smiled. “I don’t know how you do it, kid.”

“Me neither,” Ginger admitted.

“Was it worth it?”

Ginger grinned. “Absolutely.”

The End.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Spitfire Girl 1 » 12 Aug 2016, 20:42

Well, Ginger was lucky to get away with only Algy finding out :lol:
Love the bit with Mrs Symes' borrowed blouse...
Think Ginger has learned his lesson :?:
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Kismet » 12 Aug 2016, 21:51

I admire Algy's dedication to discovering how the encyclopedia was involved. I, too, wanted to know.

A fun tale, KK.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 21:51

Thank you!
"For goodness sake stop that Yankee drawl, or you'll have us all doing it before you've finished."
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby RAAF Spitfire Girl » 12 Aug 2016, 22:58

Spitfire Girl 1 wrote:Think Ginger has learned his lesson :?:


Good question, SG1. Maybe K-K will give us some more insights into Ginger's teen years at Mount Street :D becuase this little closing interchange has me thinking there might be some more... :lol: :lol:

kylie_kyote wrote:Algy smiled. “I don’t know how you do it, kid.”

“Me neither,” Ginger admitted.

“Was it worth it?”

Ginger grinned. “Absolutely.”


Loved this story, K_K. Lots of fun, and having survived the teen years of my three and observing my son dealing with his three teenage sons, I had lots of sympathetic laughs.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby tiffinata » 12 Aug 2016, 23:44

*Chortle*
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 12 Aug 2016, 23:57

We'll have to see how much more Ginger is willing to admit to...

(And, in case anybody was wondering, the 'spraying of beer onto a girl at a party' incident really happened. :o Not to me, but I was there. And yes, the boy was called Thomas.)
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby RAAF Spitfire Girl » 13 Aug 2016, 01:02

kylie_koyote wrote:We'll have to see how much more Ginger is willing to admit to...

(And, in case anybody was wondering, the 'spraying of beer onto a girl at a party' incident really happened. :o Not to me, but I was there. And yes, the boy was called Thomas.)


Definitely worth a slap with the Encyclopaedia!!!
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Wanderer » 13 Aug 2016, 01:17

kylie_koyote wrote:We'll have to see how much more Ginger is willing to admit to...

Is that a promise? I really loved this and look forward to more in the same ilk.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby kylie_koyote » 13 Aug 2016, 01:18

Thanks, Wanderer.

I'll do my best.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby SopwithCamel » 13 Aug 2016, 08:21

Lots of lovely Algy moments at the end. Algy must have been a terribly easy person to live with--he wouldn't care about much as long as you let him sleep in and fed him regularly. :twisted:
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Tracer » 13 Aug 2016, 08:31

SopwithCamel wrote:Lots of lovely Algy moments at the end. Algy must have been a terribly easy person to live with--he wouldn't care about much as long as you let him sleep in and fed him regularly. :twisted:



My kind of chap...... :lol:


I've known many a drinks cabinet as described here. I hadn't, however, considered the bottles breeding in the dark. That would explain a lot......



This is lovely, kk. I'm so glad you shared it with us. I hope Mrs. Symes and Biggles didn't notice anything amiss.
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby Fairblue » 13 Aug 2016, 10:24

Tracer wrote:[


I've known many a drinks cabinet as described here. I hadn't, however, considered the bottles breeding in the dark. That would explain a lot......




Yep. Bottles and wire coat hangers. 8-)
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Re: The Mice Will Play

Postby HostileCacti » 14 Dec 2017, 21:35

kylie_koyote wrote:Ginger reappeared a short while later, and gave a small parcel to Biggles. “The fountain pens you ordered came in at the stationer’s.”

“They delivered them?” Biggles asked, surprised.

Ginger shrugged. “Yeah.”

Biggles shook his head and went to put them in his desk.

The End.


Great story. And I like that Ginger found a nice girl with brains.
She could just have disappeared with that blouse.....
I like all the details, you really set "the scene" for your stories so to speak.
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