Stretching his long legs he eased his cramped muscles. Sitting in the tiny seat for so many hours was not his idea of fun. The paperback slid slowly from his lap to land at the feet of the airhostess.
‘We will be landing in ten minutes Sir, please fasten your seatbelt’ she said smiling as she handed him the retrieved book.
He returned the smile mumbling his ‘Thanks’ as his fine hands grappled for the webbing belt at the side of his seat.
He was a young man in his late twenties with good features. He must have reached 6ft 1 when standing. Broad shoulders filled his shirt, which was open to the second button revealing a hint of darker blond hair on his chest. A light brown lock of hair slipped across his forehead in front of his hawk like eyes, as he turned his attention to the buckle, snapping it firmly closed.
Letting out a deep sigh of relief mixed with regrets of the life and family he had left for good, his thoughts slowly returned to the green hills of England now nine hours behind him, the book once again forgotten and tucked safely into his pocket.
He knew life would never be the same again. This was a new start, an escape, he hoped, from his past. Leaving home and England was not how he had planned his life. Fate had dealt a nasty trick leaving him with no alternative but to escape its clutches and to seek out a new life and anonymity in the USA.
Drawn back into the present by the change in the jet engines as they roared through the aircraft, signaling that the airbrakes were now at full power. The 747 made its final approach. He could feel the aircraft drop in the sky as it made its descent towards his new life in America and towards the freedom from his past. His eyes peered at the whiteness of the small window searching for signs of land below. Suddenly the vision cleared as the aircraft broke through the low cloud. The runway below rushed up to greet him and with a gentle bump, the plane landed to jolt him into action.
******
2 - 1991 Three years earlier....
He threw the letter down to the breakfast table amongst growing pile of unopened mail.
‘Bloody Margaret Thatcher and her ‘poll tax’ he growled. ‘I’ll go to jail rather than pay those extortionate rates. Well there’s another ‘demand’ to add to the pile, they can whistle for it as far as I am concerned.’
Unable to remain upright with the latest addition, the pile of envelopes gradually slid into a sprawl across the tabletop. Envelopes, of all shapes and sizes, each containing demands for money for bills and tax covered the center of the table.
Lisa looked at him nodding in agreement ‘How are we expected to live and pay that tax as well….’ She added ‘that woman should never have been voted in as prime minister. No wonder so many people are refusing to pay. There’s another march on Downing Street next week, they are presenting her with a 50,000 signature petition’ she continued as she firmly pushed the envelopes back again into an untidy heap.
‘Dammit, I’m going to be late for work’ he growled. Exasperated and angry he stomped out of the kitchen slamming the front door as he went. The car engine roared in the driveway and dissapeared up the street.
With Rick now out of the house, peace and quiet took over in the house again as Lisa went back to drinking her coffee and reading her magazine spread across the table.
~
As the weeks went by the pile of mail on the table grew. Daily more and more layers were added to the heap of envelopes. Some were opened and returned with their contents roughly pushed back inside, others lay unopened since their appearance through the letterbox.
As usual the postman arrived on time, the letterbox squeaked open and was followed by the soft thud of the mail as it landed into the hallway. Lisa’s slippered feet shuffled along the hall and stopped as she bent down to retrieve the morning post from the mat. Her toweling robe loosely wrapped around her to keep the morning chill and the eyes of prying neighbors out, as she passed by the bare windows.
Bleary eyed she wandered sleepily to the kitchen. Dumping the new pile of envelopes onto the table she flicked the switch on the kettle.
The coffee was hot and sweet and she closed her eyes savoring its refreshing taste. Slowly her mind was awakening to the new day. As her eyes surveyed the unwashed dishes piled by the sink, left over from the previous evenings meal, a groan escaped her lips at the task.
The second cup of coffee was almost as good as the first, and Lisa was starting to feel more human. Her attention turned at last to the four envelopes, which had arrived that morning.
Two brown ones, ‘nothing unusual there’ she thought to herself, obviously more bills not to be paid too soon. Those can wait their turn.
The third one was a small blue envelope with a handwritten address. She smiled as she recognized the writing, a letter from her mother, she was sure it would give her all the latest family news and gossip from home.
Memories of her childhood life and people she knew flowed into her thoughts, once more transporting her back to her teenage years.
She was barely 22, but her family home seemed many years in the past. Her life was here and now with her boyfriend and in the home they shared. Firmly she shoved the pages back into the envelope and tucked it safely into her dressing gown pocket.
The final envelope was larger than the others, white and A4 in size. The address had been typed on the front. There was something ominous about this envelope and she eyed it with caution as if not wanting to touch it.
With her cup filled for the third time, she sat down to the table to stare at the letter, which lay there. The name on the outside loomed up at her, Mr. R McDowell. It smelled almost clinical and was overpowering. An official postage mark was smudged across the top, with a lion and crown logo visible in the red ink. Her mind was trying to read its contents as if willing the words to appear without opening it.
Lisa was still trying to read the postmark when Rick wandered into the kitchen, startling her from her concentration as he kissed the back of her neck.
‘This one is addressed to you, personally’ she said pushing the envelope into his hands.
‘Go on, open it up, while I get you a coffee’ she urged.
Rick sat at the table and obediently tore open the envelope. She could hear the sheets of paper slide from it and waited expectantly as Rick went quiet in concentration.
Unable to bear the silence any longer she turned to see Rick’s white face staring at the exposed contents.
‘What is it Rick?’ she gasped.
His eyes rose from the sheet of paper in front of him to meet hers, ‘They’re taking me to court for non payment of poll tax’ he finally blurted out. "Its a summons to appear in court. The case comes up on the 15th of next month."
******
Continued in part 2
‘We will be landing in ten minutes Sir, please fasten your seatbelt’ she said smiling as she handed him the retrieved book.
He returned the smile mumbling his ‘Thanks’ as his fine hands grappled for the webbing belt at the side of his seat.
He was a young man in his late twenties with good features. He must have reached 6ft 1 when standing. Broad shoulders filled his shirt, which was open to the second button revealing a hint of darker blond hair on his chest. A light brown lock of hair slipped across his forehead in front of his hawk like eyes, as he turned his attention to the buckle, snapping it firmly closed.
Letting out a deep sigh of relief mixed with regrets of the life and family he had left for good, his thoughts slowly returned to the green hills of England now nine hours behind him, the book once again forgotten and tucked safely into his pocket.
He knew life would never be the same again. This was a new start, an escape, he hoped, from his past. Leaving home and England was not how he had planned his life. Fate had dealt a nasty trick leaving him with no alternative but to escape its clutches and to seek out a new life and anonymity in the USA.
Drawn back into the present by the change in the jet engines as they roared through the aircraft, signaling that the airbrakes were now at full power. The 747 made its final approach. He could feel the aircraft drop in the sky as it made its descent towards his new life in America and towards the freedom from his past. His eyes peered at the whiteness of the small window searching for signs of land below. Suddenly the vision cleared as the aircraft broke through the low cloud. The runway below rushed up to greet him and with a gentle bump, the plane landed to jolt him into action.
******
2 - 1991 Three years earlier....
He threw the letter down to the breakfast table amongst growing pile of unopened mail.
‘Bloody Margaret Thatcher and her ‘poll tax’ he growled. ‘I’ll go to jail rather than pay those extortionate rates. Well there’s another ‘demand’ to add to the pile, they can whistle for it as far as I am concerned.’
Unable to remain upright with the latest addition, the pile of envelopes gradually slid into a sprawl across the tabletop. Envelopes, of all shapes and sizes, each containing demands for money for bills and tax covered the center of the table.
Lisa looked at him nodding in agreement ‘How are we expected to live and pay that tax as well….’ She added ‘that woman should never have been voted in as prime minister. No wonder so many people are refusing to pay. There’s another march on Downing Street next week, they are presenting her with a 50,000 signature petition’ she continued as she firmly pushed the envelopes back again into an untidy heap.
‘Dammit, I’m going to be late for work’ he growled. Exasperated and angry he stomped out of the kitchen slamming the front door as he went. The car engine roared in the driveway and dissapeared up the street.
With Rick now out of the house, peace and quiet took over in the house again as Lisa went back to drinking her coffee and reading her magazine spread across the table.
~
As the weeks went by the pile of mail on the table grew. Daily more and more layers were added to the heap of envelopes. Some were opened and returned with their contents roughly pushed back inside, others lay unopened since their appearance through the letterbox.
As usual the postman arrived on time, the letterbox squeaked open and was followed by the soft thud of the mail as it landed into the hallway. Lisa’s slippered feet shuffled along the hall and stopped as she bent down to retrieve the morning post from the mat. Her toweling robe loosely wrapped around her to keep the morning chill and the eyes of prying neighbors out, as she passed by the bare windows.
Bleary eyed she wandered sleepily to the kitchen. Dumping the new pile of envelopes onto the table she flicked the switch on the kettle.
The coffee was hot and sweet and she closed her eyes savoring its refreshing taste. Slowly her mind was awakening to the new day. As her eyes surveyed the unwashed dishes piled by the sink, left over from the previous evenings meal, a groan escaped her lips at the task.
The second cup of coffee was almost as good as the first, and Lisa was starting to feel more human. Her attention turned at last to the four envelopes, which had arrived that morning.
Two brown ones, ‘nothing unusual there’ she thought to herself, obviously more bills not to be paid too soon. Those can wait their turn.
The third one was a small blue envelope with a handwritten address. She smiled as she recognized the writing, a letter from her mother, she was sure it would give her all the latest family news and gossip from home.
Memories of her childhood life and people she knew flowed into her thoughts, once more transporting her back to her teenage years.
She was barely 22, but her family home seemed many years in the past. Her life was here and now with her boyfriend and in the home they shared. Firmly she shoved the pages back into the envelope and tucked it safely into her dressing gown pocket.
The final envelope was larger than the others, white and A4 in size. The address had been typed on the front. There was something ominous about this envelope and she eyed it with caution as if not wanting to touch it.
With her cup filled for the third time, she sat down to the table to stare at the letter, which lay there. The name on the outside loomed up at her, Mr. R McDowell. It smelled almost clinical and was overpowering. An official postage mark was smudged across the top, with a lion and crown logo visible in the red ink. Her mind was trying to read its contents as if willing the words to appear without opening it.
Lisa was still trying to read the postmark when Rick wandered into the kitchen, startling her from her concentration as he kissed the back of her neck.
‘This one is addressed to you, personally’ she said pushing the envelope into his hands.
‘Go on, open it up, while I get you a coffee’ she urged.
Rick sat at the table and obediently tore open the envelope. She could hear the sheets of paper slide from it and waited expectantly as Rick went quiet in concentration.
Unable to bear the silence any longer she turned to see Rick’s white face staring at the exposed contents.
‘What is it Rick?’ she gasped.
His eyes rose from the sheet of paper in front of him to meet hers, ‘They’re taking me to court for non payment of poll tax’ he finally blurted out. "Its a summons to appear in court. The case comes up on the 15th of next month."
******
Continued in part 2
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