I went into a wool shop… (ii)

Yesterday I shared the first part of a short story… here is part two, and the introduction:

Like many writers, I quite often end up with scenes from novels which never actually get included. Sometimes the scenes are just ideas inside my head, sometimes they get written down and filed away; they might get used, they might get changed and used in a completely different story, or they might just sit there.

In my second Radwinter story, Magick, there is an episode where Thomas Radwinter is searching for a missing woman and goes to a small village out in the country. There is a wool shop and he goes in and there is a scene between him and the wool shop man… and that is it. However, in my head something else happened, which I have never written about until today… and here is part two. In the story his little son is only three – in my current novel he’s much older!

(Here’s a link to part 1 if you want to read that first: https://wp.me/p2hGAs-71c   )

I went into a wool shop… (ii)

 I put my laptop on the table and set the video going having watched it a couple of times to check I knew what I was doing… maybe, on reflection, not enough times… It actually didn’t start too well… and I got a bit knotted and had to cut a couple of foot of wool off and throw it away. I think I should have realised then that this simple task was completely beyond me… Maybe if I had known how to knit in the first place I might have had a bit more of a clue, and seen the logic in the instructions. As it was the lovely lady in the video led me completely astray…
I think the mistake was to involve the chair. I thought its arms would do as an extra pair of hands and I somehow managed – and I don’t know how, to attach myself to the chair, and the more I tried to untangle, the more tangled I became. I had used the arms, but a ball of the sparkly pink and purple wool fell on the floor, and when I picked it up with a free hand (the other already secured to the arm) I didn’t realise but it had rolled under the brace and when I picked it up I became further attached but this time to the strut between the legs… I was on my knees now.
I used my mouth to try and position the ball correctly so I could bring it back through the loop but of course that made the wool very wet (I must have drooled a bit with the effort), and what I had not noticed was that somehow I had stepped over the ball so it was now pulled tight in a rather uncomfortably intimate place.
I never realised that wool was so strong. It wouldn’t break however much I tried to pull with my tightly bound hand and my less tightly bound other hand. In fact what I was doing by pulling was making another bit which I had sort of successfully knitted, tighten even more round my arm – how had it got there? I was getting very hot by now. We don’t have the heating on during the day and I had put two jumpers on… maybe if I took one off…
I didn’t think this through. I got the jumper over my head, but of course then the sleeves were pulled down my arms sort of inside out and hid the wool so I could no longer even see what I was doing. At this point I also thought it would be a good idea to try with one foot (still wearing a shoe because I forgot to take them of when I came in) to try with the other foot to loosen the wool round my ankle.
The chair, no doubt as fed up as I was, had had enough and threw me to the ground, twisting me painfully, with the damned heavy piece of furniture on top of me… and this was when I began to laugh…
… and then stopped laughing…
What to do? Shout? The neighbours who we didn’t know, were out at work. I began to inch my way towards the closed door into the hall… Even if I got it open I couldn’t drag me and the chair through… I needed to get into the hall, get to the ornamental Chinese pot, tip it over and get my phone… But it was impossible…
I was doomed… doomed to lie here like an idiot, thirsty yet dying for a pee until Kylie came home… doomed, doomed, doomed…
Then to my joy I heard a banging on the front door! I was saved!! There was more banging… not the sort of banging from the postman but the banging of someone coming to save me!
I took a big breath to bellow ‘HELP!!!! in the loudest possible voice but inhaled a great fluff of wool – honestly I thought I was going to choke to death… I was hacking and coughing, eyes streaming, trying to spit the damned wool out of my mouth but it seemed determined to stick to my tongue and inveigle its way down my throat… oh this would be too much! After finding true love and true happiness, to be killed by pink wool!
Suddenly the kitchen door burst open and Geoff and Pete stood there looking shocked… within seconds one of them had whipped out his handy penknife and I was cut free and helped to my feet as Daph came rushing in looking alarmed, anxious and almost frightened.
“What the heck have you been up to, lad?” asked Geoff as Pete began to chuckle.
With as much dignity as I could muster (which wasn’t very much to be honest) and pulling bits off wool off me and pulling my jumper back on, I told them what had happened… I have to confess I didn’t get very far with the story because they were all convulsed with laugher.
“I hate to be sexist,” Daph had her hankie out and was wiping her eyes, “I hate to be sexist, but I can really understand why more men don’t take up knitting…”
I’m going to buy Kylie a scarf, and damn the expense!

If you want to read Magick, and see if Thomas found the missing woman, here is a link:


and a link to my other Radwinter novels:


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