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Then enter the Secret Attic Short Story Competition!

Each month you can submit an entry that will be passed onto our judges who will pick the best and award a winner. During some months the subject matter will be a 'free for all', where you can write anything you like, other months will have a specific theme.

Previous Competition Winners

February 2005 David Willshaw

April 2005 Christine Sutton

May 2005 George L Darley

July 2005 Robyn O'Hara

August 2005 Richard Adamski

September 2005 Hannah Southgate

October 2005 Heather Parker

December 2005 Feathers by Bob Lakin

January 2006 RD Larson

February 2006 Debra Spiller

March 2006 Nethi Sette

April 2006 Joe Louis

May 2006 Kim Montgomery

Love of Literature by Raymond Hopkins, Kronoby, Finland

Missing by Debra Spiller, Kent, UK

Diary of a Ghost by Suzanne Ralphson, Leicester, UK

Shreds of Love by Irene Edwards, Angus, UK

The shredder chewed and crunched and spat, but a hurricane from hell couldn’t stop Gemma. She was on a mission - to reduce her husband’s beloved dinner jacket to pulp. He’d asked her to have it cleaned for the firm’s annual conference.
“ Your floozy won’t get to cuddle up to this again, Sam Briars,” Gemma yelled, above the clatter of the shredder.
It seemed another life since she’d found the hotel bill and, crouching on the floor, had sobbed like a dumped teenager. Through the tears, came the questions. How long? Why hadn’t she seen the signs? And who was this other woman…?
It was the last that got Gemma to her feet. Scooping up the jacket she’d raced out of the house and through the garage, plugging in the rusty machine as she went.
Tatters of expensive silk and wool mix were still spewing out when an upstairs window banged open and a tousled head appeared.
“ What’s all that racket, Mum? It’s the middle of the night.”
Ben, a graduate with no job, and a mountain of debt, needed plenty of sleep.
“ Guess what? ” Gemma shot back, “your father’s having an affair.”
Ben’s shocked response rattled the neighbours’ decking. “Where did you hear that rubbish? And what are you doing with the shredder?” His voice dropped to a low moan. “Oh God, Mum, what have you got in there? Switch it off, I’m coming down.”
Gemma’s fury died with the machine’s final grunt and she fell into a garden chair, tears raining down her face.
“ What’s happened, Mum,” Ben demanded. “What’s going on?” His gaze moved from the shredder to the patches of cloth decorating the lawn.
“ And what’s that?“
“ I’ve told you,” Gemma muttered defensively. “Your father’s having an affair”
“ C’mon Mum. You don’t believe that. Not Dad. He’d never cheat on you. You’re the best.”
Ben put his arm round her, and as Gemma stared into the concerned brown eyes, the curl of hair straying across his ears, all she could see was his father, and the tears started again.
She rubbed them away, her face determined. “I know you don’t want to hear this Ben, but it’s true. I saw the bill. Classy hotel, double room, and a drinks bill that would sink the Royal Navy. Anyway, I’m phoning the hotel later. I’ll find out what he was up to.”
Ben looked doubtful. “It doesn’t mean he was with a woman. The firm could have booked him in there. Maybe there wasn’t a single room free. Where did you find this bill?”
“ In the pocket of his dinner jacket. And of course he was with a woman.” Gemma sniffed furiously. “I’ve checked the dates. According to my calendar he was supposed to be in the Midlands. This hotel’s nowhere near there.”
“ It still doesn’t prove anything.” Ben insisted. “The firm could have changed his schedule at the last minute. You know what they’re like.”
He moved over to the shredder, flicking chewed strands between his fingers.
“ Was that the dinner jacket? Not his only one I hope…?”
“ Oh yes,” Gemma said defiantly. “His only one.”
“ What about the bill?” Ben asked. “I suppose you’ve kept it - to show Dad?”
“ Of course, when I find it. It’s on the bedroom floor somewhere.”
Ben turned, his look thoughtful. “Why don’t you go inside and I’ll make you some breakfast.”

Gemma had to admit she felt better after Ben’s culinary efforts. He’d gone upstairs and she could hear him moving around. It was a surprise then, when, minutes later, she heard the front door closing and his motor bike revving up. Can’t blame him, I suppose, Gemma sniffed, through more tears. He must be hoping it’s not true.
She knew it was, though. She’d seen the proof.
The rest of the day passed in a skelter of emotions, from sobs of despair, to furious activity.
She was rummaging around in kitchen cupboards when her mobile phone pinged. Gemma froze, waiting for it to dawn on her husband that she wasn’t answering.
She stared at the tiny screen, her eyes filling with tears. I’ll be home on the usual train tomorrow night. Hope you’re okay.
Strange, she thought, that words she’d heard him say so many times, were now breaking her heart.

It was late afternoon when Ben appeared, his sunny face a circle of gloom.
“ You haven’t had a row with Francie, have you?” Gemma asked, almost forgetting her own heartache.
“No way,” Ben said. “Everything’s great.” He was striding nervously round the kitchen, finally collapsing into a chair. “It’s you I’m in trouble with.”
“ What’s happened Ben?” Gemma groaned. “This is turning out to be a really bad day.”
He drew in a ragged breath…”The thing is…it’s my bill, mine and Francie’s. Dad lent me his dinner jacket when I told him I wanted to splurge my birthday money on a treat for Francie. She’s amazing, the way she stays around.”
“ Mum, the hotel was great, the food to die for. And me in that dinner jacket - Francie was well impressed…”
Gemma stared at him, her eyes widening.
“ Are you saying your father isn’t having an affair - that he wasn’t at this hotel with another woman?”
Ben shot her a nervous grin. “Didn’t see him there.”
Gemma shook her head in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me all this?”
“ C’mon Mum, you wouldn’t exactly have approved. Not with my credit rating.”
“ At least, if I’d known I wouldn’t have trashed an expensive jac….”
Her knuckles shone white on the mug she was holding, her voice threading the air in a precursor of doom….”I’ve shredded your father’s dinner jacket.”
Ben leaned over and hugged her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Mum. It’s hardly grounds for divorce.”
But Gemma was already moving round the kitchen, her damaged heart revitalized. “Maybe not, but I’m still going to cook him this really romantic meal - and something special for afters.”
“ You’re a wicked woman, mum. I suppose you’d like me to crash at a mate’s tonight?”
The smile she gave her son was a young girl’s - head over heels in love. “That would be nice.”
Gemma smiled at the thought; she might not need her big apology till tomorrow.

The aroma of lamb nestling in plum sauce drifted through the house as Gemma fussed excitedly with the softly lit table, her silk dress revealing no more than she intended.
She heard his car on the drive, his footsteps on the gravel, key in the lock.
Her cap of chestnut hair had turned to deep flame from the flickering candles, the flimsy dress a beguiling signal against her slim figure.
Sam walked slowly towards her, a puzzled frown on his face. “What’s all this?” he asked, his gaze moving to the exquisitely laid table.
Gemma moved closer, deliberately flirtatious.
“ Just my way of saying how much…”
Sam stepped back, his face ghastly pale against the dancing light. “Please Gemma, don’t do this.”
“ What is it Sam,” Gemma whispered.
He stared at her, lines deepening across his face. For what seemed a blip in time he hesitated.
Then the words were tumbling over each other. “That hotel bill you found…I am so sorry Gemma. Can you ever forgive me?”
Gemma stared at him. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “Ben told me…”
“ Sam turned from her puzzled gaze, his voice a low moan. “He phoned when he found the bill. Said he’d make up some story. Didn’t want you to be upset. And now all this” Sam waved his arms across the decorated table, with its glowing candles and special occasion silverware.
“ What’s happened,” Gemma said quietly. “Tell me.”
He stared at her, his eyes clouding with tears.
“ I can’t keep lying to you, Gemma. And to have Ben back me up. That was despicable.”
Gemma stood frozen between the sputtering candles. Her dress, with its swirls and sequence, suddenly felt tawdry, She knew she’d never wear it again.
“ Are you saying you’re having an affair,” she whispered.
“Not anymore,” he protested. “It’s over, has been for months. Please forgive me Gemma. I never meant to hurt you. It was a stupid fling. It didn’t mean anything. You have to believe me.”
He was moving towards her, arms outstretched, his smile a white flag of hope. “I love you.”
The pleading in his eyes was more than Gemma could bear. As she turned and walked away his cries followed her through the house and out into the garage. Driving off she could still hear him.

Gemma….