The Brandy of the Damned
Language: English
Pages: 210
ISBN: 0956416357
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Russell, Penny and Will have not seen each other for twenty years. Why, then, do they spend a month driving around the coast of Britain in a van refusing to listen to music? Why do they find little blue bottles washing up on the shore containing pages from a future Bible? And why is Penny carrying such a huge spade? Funny, surprising and good-hearted, The Brandy of the Damned is a dream-like short novel that leaves the reader strangely grounded and which reveals different things each time it is read. It is the literary equivalent of stepping off the path and heading out into the woods, knowing that if you can't see what's ahead you are never bored. The Brandy of the Damned is a genuinely original story told by a unique voice. It exists in a genre of one.
back but she stayed out.' 'She stayed out?' 'She was determined to drink.' 'Ah, okay,' I said. 'Did you two not have a drink then? I thought you'd been getting on better.' 'We've been getting on fine. It turns out that there are pubs that have no music playing, but they're not the type of pubs that let you in if you're carrying a spade.' 'Is that right?' He nodded. 'It turns out, a spade can be considered a weapon.' I thought about this. 'It's not a very practical weapon though, is it?'
tumbled down to the surf on three sides. To the east were the dramatic cliffs of Hell's Mouth and to the west lay the northern end of the long, sweeping sands of St Ives Bay. To the north, the Atlantic Ocean stretched to the horizon and beyond. Ah, the north Cornish coast by moonlight. Is there anywhere else on earth that has that atmosphere? I walked towards St Ives Bay. I chose that direction because the moon lay that way. It hung low over the horizon, only a few days away from full. Faint
the outgoing tide revealed two sandy promontories on either side of the eyes. But the line between the sea and the sand shifted. It shifted into a smile. I'm not proud of this, but what happened next is that I passed out. You're in no position to judge me, you understand? Wait until the sea smiles at you and see how you handle it. I was woken by Will. It was early in the morning. I opened my eyes and saw a blue sky with a covering of turbulent purple clouds above me. The sea had taken on a
aware that I am in a state of shock. I am also aware that he knows this, and is amused by it. If I had known that at the time it would have angered me, but from my current perspective I can see his point. 'You're going to be a little bit shocked to see me, but that's your own fault. If you invent a fictitious character with the power to leave the world of fiction and come into the material world, then you're going to have to put up with this sort of stuff.' I look at him. He is making tea.
I stepped out of the van and noticed that the front section of the structure had slumped into the sea. A larger, Victorian ballroom stood in the water behind it, and the walkway that had linked it to the collapsed front section pointed down at 45 degrees, plunging into the surf. This was the abandoned West Pier; the lights and bustle of the Palace Pier lay a few hundred yards further down the road. My memory of this pier was that it was considerably more ruined than this, that it was nothing but