Thursday 18th January 2024

Exclusive extract:

December 1938

Hotel Sroubek,

Prague

 

 

Two Englishmen were standing at the window, overlooking the centre of Prague.  The hotel room was furnished in the standard way, bare of all essentials except for the narrow bed, a small table, chest of drawers and a writing desk.  A single, black telephone stood menacingly on the bedside table, its brown thick cables twisted together in a confused state of readiness for when the call would come.   

One man was smoking, sporadically flicking ash into a cheap, metal ashtray provided by the hotel, as he looked unseeingly out of the small, sash window.  The other was of slight build, wearing a striped tie at his throat, and studiously puffing away at a pipe.  Every so often, he would remove the pipe from between his lips, search for a crumpled pack of tobacco in his jacket pocket before refilling and tamping down his pipe.  His black-framed spectacles gave him a studious look, belying the fierce intelligence lurking behind the thick, myopic lenses.

Both men were agitated, every so often walking this way and that as they explored every avenue available to them in this foreign country.

Outside was bleak, great flurries of snow lying heaped on the roofs of neighbouring buildings. Down below at street level, a few passers-by hurried along, heads bent against the elements and the rigours of life. 

Nicholas Winton and his friend Martin Blake had been friends for decades. Both had grown up politically motivated by the many injustices in the world, but had been drawn together also by many shared interests.  They both loved skiing and had enjoyed many winter holidays together, indulging in their favourite sports. As such, they were very much of like mind.

“It’s clear that Chamberlain’s stance at Munich was a complete disaster for the world,” said Martin.

Winton concurred.  “Yes. Instead of appeasing Hitler by handing him the Sudetenland on a plate, it’s encouraged his aggression even more.  Now, I fear for the whole of Europe, including Great Britain.  Unless something is done, nothing will stand in his way.” 

Both men stood silent, gloomily surveying the scene out of the window, the intermittent swirls of snow and ice matching the vagaries of the political storm brewing and building all around them.

Turning his thoughts to the plight of the many local people in Prague who were suffering from the political climate, Winton recognised the achievements of his friend. He already knew that Martin was a special emissary for the British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia, known as BCRC.  “What plans do you have for these people?” asked Nicky, as he liked to be called by his friends. 

Martin turned away from the window.  “Well, the brief from my committee is to try to get as many adults who are in the greatest danger, out of the country as possible. But, as  you know my friend, it won’t be easy. We need to somehow get each of them a permit, a job and a personal guarantor.”

Nicky scratched his head.  “But what of the children, Martin?  What can we do for all those innocents, caught up in a war they can’t possibly understand?  My heart grieves for them.”

“I know, I know,” replied Martin.  “Our records show that there are many children whose parents were either forced to leave them behind, or cases where desperate parents felt unable to leave without them so sought a safe refuge for their children…”

Nicky interrupted.  “Yes. That all tallies with my own findings.  I know for a fact that those people who apply for a job in Britain are more likely to find success if they don’t apply as a family unit.”

Martin was thinking frantically.  Both men were united in their quest for a solution, but somehow the question of the defenceless children had risen higher up the agenda.

Since the infamous Munich agreement had been signed three months earlier by Great Britain, Italy, France and, of course, Germany, the BCRC had opened an office right there in Prague. Turning to Nicholas, Martin promised to contact the very next day his colleague Doreen, who headed the committee’s office. Quickly, he described Doreen’s efforts to Nicholas. It was clear that Doreen was working night and day to help the adult refugees to safety as quickly as possible. 

“Yes, but what of the children, Martin? What of the children?”  Already, Winton’s pipe needed refilling as he searched anew for his tobacco pouch.

“Well, I know there are a few people who are trying to help them, but as far as I know there’s no-one drawing all the threads together to make the kind of difference we need,” replied Martin.

Listening to all this, and watching the night sky darken still further, Winton came to a decision. 

“Well, if no-one else is going to do it, it had better be me.”

Martin turned.  “Do you realise what you’d be taking on, Nicky?  You’d be the focus for the hopes of thousands of parents.”

Winton smiled, feeling a surge of adrenalin as it fired his belly and flooded every ounce of his being.  He thought back to his own childhood where he’d always been sympathetic to anyone in trouble.  Even back then, he remembered the sneers from other boys, who thought it was somehow less manly to show compassion for others.  He’d always shrugged the other boys off, nevertheless. His innate self-confidence enabled him to be adventurous and to always attempt the impossible by any ways and means available to him.  So it was now, as he watched his friend nervously smoothing flicks of hair away from his creased brow.  He was only twenty-nine, fortunate to be a British stockbroker. His parents were of German Jewish descent. Winton realised how fortunate he, himself, had been in life. He felt that the least he could do would be to help others who were suffering through no fault of their own. There and then he decided he was going to give it his best shot.

The plan that was forming in Nicholas’s head seemed simple enough, but in truth was very dangerous.  “Don’t you see, Martin?” he told his friend.  “To be successful in this world, you have to have a mission that overrides all others.  You must think large, my friend, and be as positive as humanly possible.”

Martin sat on the edge of the bed, watching Nicky snatch a small hotel notepad from the bedside table and jot down some indecipherable scribble.  Outside, a sudden flurry pushed a ton of snow off the hotel roof to land in an enormous heap on the silent pavement below.  It was an avalanche of predestined proportions, heralding something amazing.

“So, my foolish friend.  I take it your answer is yes?” 

 

……


To buy, click cover image on the right.

13th January 2024

 New year, new novel.

 📘🇨🇿𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗔𝗟. 🇨🇿📘


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𝗪𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝗢𝗹𝗴𝗮 𝗦𝘄𝗮𝗻. 


𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝟭𝟴𝘁𝗵 𝗝𝗮𝗻𝘂𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝘃𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘄.


https://rb.gy/nnv6yw


𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗦 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀, 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗵𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮 𝗯𝘆 𝗢𝗹𝗴𝗮 𝗦𝘄𝗮𝗻.


𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗹-𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼 𝗡𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘀 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗶𝘅-𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀-𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗟𝗶𝗹𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝟭𝟵𝟯𝟵 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲, 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲-𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁. 


𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗟𝗶𝗹𝗮’𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗘𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗼𝘁𝗵.


Follow her journey from childhood angst in Prague, her amazing rescue, followed by a lifetime of stress as a Jewish immigrant growing up in Birmingham.

As she matures, along comes wonderful Patrick, bringing the sunshine and laughter of Trinidad into her life, but was he the right man for her? 


At ninety-years-old, Lila at last finds success in London as a novelist, but it has come at an enormous cost to her health, self-belief and her decades-long fight against adversity. She realises, though, that each part of her life had not been diminished by new beginnings, merely reinforced. But suddenly love blooms again for Lila alongside a new quest. She simply has to find the answer to the mysterious puzzle about her late father’s identity, even though her family’s Czech records have long gone. 


A wondrous saga, which takes the reader from wartime Prague, to post-war Birmingham, and finally to Jerusalem. 


#preordernow #historicalfiction

18th September 2023

 My home city of Birmingham, run by a Labour Council, has declared itself bankrupt. The Council leader has apologised to the city but has not resigned. This whole situation highlights the essential difference between the two opposing Parties.  Labour has always seen itself as the ‘nice’ Party, championing those in need, and dubbing the Tories as ‘nasty’.  The current Labour leader, Sir Keir Starmer, is seen as a non-charismatic, middle of the road manager, dubbed ‘Mr Hindsight’ because he spends more time responding to the already-happened rather than proposing radical, innovative policies. Rishi Sunak, the PM (like every other country in the world) has the unenviable task of overseeing the inevitable economic fallout following the pandemic shut down of the whole country. But, as we rush headlong to the next General Election, what do we see? Labour is promising the earth, e.g. a childcare revolution but, like Birmingham City Council, has absolutely no idea of how they’re going to fund it. And the Tories, like accountants everywhere, are desperate to balance the books.  As the ST put it, parodying Blair “things can only get bitter”.

11th September 2023

The G20 leaders are in India but their individual competence is a lottery. In the US, to stand for president requires lots of money. In the UK, anyone can choose to go into politics but with little assessment.  The job of prime minister/president is the most important in the land, so it’s crucial we choose the right contenders. Nothing to do with personality, all to do with ability. Each election candidate should first be tested via a vigorous educational assessment, at least degree level attainment, including comprehensive, proven political knowledge not just of the candidate’s own country but globally too. Vocal skills and quick thinking should also be tested alongside a sound psychological assessment. These attributes should also be mandatory for each member of the leader’s Cabinet/team.  The current Shadow Labour deputy leader in the UK has no school qualifications at all! She should not be allowed into politics. As a writer, I have written about the lead up to the last war in Germany, France, Poland, Austria and China, with another similar work in progress. So many past leaders were psychologically deranged, causing the deaths of millions. If we are to avoid another world war, we must choose more able leaders!

3rd September 2023

 Tomorrow, it will be 54 years since I gave birth to our beautiful daughter. The 60’s teenage revolution was still in full swing. The Times They Were A’Changing, including my life.  Elvis, The Rolling Stones and Marvin Gaye were in the charts, and there I was with a beautiful baby to nurture.  There was no Google to consult in those days, nor extensive family support to advise and guide me, just a local welfare clinic. Yet, over those crucial early years of motherhood, somehow I survived. At four years old, when she first came home from infants’ school with a tin containing words to learn, I helped and guided her, glorying with her as she successively over-achieved at every stage. At 10, a year early, she passed for the exclusive King Edwards High School, followed at 18 by acceptance to read languages at St Andrews University. Today she’s Vice President of a big insurance company on Park Avenue, New York, and was a recent finalist in New England’s Funniest Comedian contest. Still over-achieving. I am a very proud mother. Happy Birthday Julie.


27th August 2023

 Here in the UK there’s been a high-profile case about a young nurse who’s been convicted of killing seven new-borns, over a 4 year period, on the neo-natal unit of a Chester hospital. It wasn’t so much about the baby deaths - terrible as those were - but of how the hospital managers supported the nurse over the whole period.  At one point, they even forced the accusing doctors to send her a letter of apology for their evidential accusations, and to offer the nurse a better job in a top children’s hospital in London. The crux of the matter is that there’s a culture in our hospitals and other top institutions of protecting their integrity and reputation at all costs.  Looking back at my own life, I’ve noticed the same protectionism in many of my former workplaces but especially our universities. Nothing must rock the boat of the establishment!  Something needs to be done to bring out the truth in this world, despite the opinions of those in exalted positions, who strive to sustain their own positions no matter what.  Feel a book coming on….

20th August 2023

Did you read about that elderly couple’s nightmare with budget airline Ryanair? It’s a symptom of today’s digital world. The airline’s booking system was so complicated, the couple downloaded the return boarding pass by mistake. At check in, the airline said unless they paid £110, staff wouldn’t print their correct outward boarding pass! But at least the couple had managed the rest of the online booking system. It made me think of my late brother who never learned IT, didn’t possess a laptop or mobile phone, or even possess any credit or debit cards. How would he have got on in today’s world where human interractions (like physical banks, train ticket offices, etc) are being phased out? So many film franchises today  - I’m thinking Game of Thrones, Avatar etc - and practically every TV ad have cartoon-like people and childish voiceovers - all aimed at the young. So, as hinted at last week, I decided to write my 14th book, but this time from the point of view of a very old person. There are a lot of us out there, a neglected commodity. Time to redress the balance.