Bluebottles
Year 10 have been writing the beginnings of short stories in preparation for their English
Language Paper One. They have been looking at nineteenth century fiction and at descriptive
writing. Here is how one student, Dan Nash, began his short story about a crime in early
twentieth century London.
The smog hung low in the freezing winter’s chill, as the blanket of the night smothered the
street. A gas lamp hissed and flickered quietly on the corner, whispering to itself. It stood
sentinel on the junction where Vine Lane joined the Uxbridge Road, protecting the occupants
of the buildings from any untoward shadows. The area was bursting with silence, as if all the
walls, railings and cobbles were dying to express some long-held truth, and yet felt they
could not.
There was a slight disturbance to the silence, as the door of the Red Lion Hotel cracked open
a few inches, and hushed voices floated across Uxbridge Road, and trickled off down the
various side streets. It appeared one man was describing to another how a bill should be paid,
but the voices were quiet, unnoticeable even, and the conversation was disjointed. The door
opened wider, and a pair of gentlemen emerged. The first wore dark clothes, but even from a
distance it was clear that he was a man of the law. The tall hat and wide belt gave it away,
though the dark blue tunic blended seamlessly with the background.
The second gentleman was slightly shorter, but wider. Very little other than his skin and white
shirt collar could be distinguished from the darkness. They paused directly opposite Vine
Lane, and discussed the best course to take to West Drayton station.
They walked briskly into the fog, their figures reducing to silhouettes, before vaporising
completely as the hungry night swallowed them whole.
Chief Constable George Streatly had had moved to the Metropolitan Police force
from Reading in 1903, and had served in London for four years, following a previous
fifteen years of work with the Berkshire Constabulary in the Borough of Reading.
He was experienced, and was known for his creativity. Where others failed to
solve problems by force Streatly could be relied upon to see the pattern and find a
clue. It was this that had gained him such high status, and it was how he had come
to join ‘the met’.
Streatly was a solidly built man, and could tower over many, yet wouldn’t intimidate
without good cause. He had defined features and gently piercing dark eyes that
would track you down when you least expected it. He was rugged in appearance,
and yet somehow appeared extremely civilised and was polite in his mannerisms as
one would expect in good society. Want more detective fiction in London? Read "Rainmaker".
