One might assume that the work of a funeral director in Coldford would never be done. The streets of the Shady City are perilous after all with violence, corruption and oneupmanship waiting around every corner. Eugene Morris doesn’t let that distract him though. His job isn’t a pleasant one but it must fall to the hands of someone. He finds himself in homes from the Shanties strips to the mansion houses of Filton. Death is equal in its pursuit.
He treats his clients with the utmost respect, courtesy and dignity. In return he expects nothing less for himself. No matter the name, BECKINGRIDGE, OWEN, DOYLE or FULLERTON, they all lie the same way on the Tailor’s table. Eugene pays no mind to disputes and squabbles rising around him. It is simply his job to clean up the mess and kiss the foreheads of those who would otherwise be forgotten about. No one would want him choosing sides anyway. When death favours, things get really messy.
He earned the title of The Tailor because of the attention to detail he places on his client’s final suit. Exceptionally talented at capturing the life of the deceased in how they are laid to rest, his skills as an actual tailor come in quite handy. He is whimsical in appearance, timeless and elegant. Eugene is a personable enough man, pleasant and kind but like the death which he serves no one really wants him to be knocking on their door.
Coming May 02 2020
Harbour House rehabilitation clinic brings together regrets, losses and life long bonds. If the program doesn’t work then there is always space on the Tailor’s table.
A husband and father first, Reginald is a gentlemen above all else. He is known as the King of City Main. A gentleman he may be but his control of his kingdom can be a violent one when necessary. His strength comes from the loyalists of City Main, the fan group of the COLDFORD CITY football team.
Father of the triplets – MARCUS, SIMON and REGGIE – Reginald’s boys follow in their father’s footsteps in that they will do whatever it takes to keep their name as the resounding power in the busiest part of the Shady City. Reginald’s wife, Rita, has been his partner since their parents introduced them as children. He is wholly dedicated to his wife.
Reginald’s weapon of choice when entering an altercation is a heavy chain which he has named Belta’ . She has been with him since attending the football games as a young boy. Belta’s slinky body was easy to slip into a sleeve and into stadiums into the city. When violence erupted she was heavy enough to deliver head smashing damage.
Reginald pays no mind to the law when it comes to protecting his friends and family. He’s a noble king but not one to be threatened.
They call her The Baroness and her activist spirit is legendary. To some she is the lovable KNOCK KNOCK show girl. To the LAWMAKERS she is the next target and rehab will not excuse her.
Coming May 02: Welcome Tawny McInney to Harbour House.
Complete season 1 of the Knock Knock graphic novel series is free to read HERE.
Like a military parade the nurses of Harbour House were set in a neat line ready to hear their orders for the day. They were waiting for their super star doctor to begin his rounds. The polished wing tips, sharp, well tailored suits and neatly combed hair he was like a film star within the facility. Although, Beverly wished he hadn’t shaved his moustache. He looked so much better with the moustache. Without it his face seemed longer, more angular.
“Good morning ladies,” said he. Beverly handed him a clip board of notes.
“Good morning doctor,” they all rhymed off like obedient school children.
Winslow read through the notes quietly.
“Beverly?” he turned to the burly, middle aged matron. “We need some vitals and a urine sample from Mr Finn.”
“Yes doctor,” she replied.
“He can be a bit of a challenging rascal so if he gives you any trouble call a porter.”
Beverly set off to her task.
She glanced in the window of the room to see artist, David Finn, lying on his bed sketching on a scrap piece of paper with a blunt charcoal pencil. She knocked on the little window and he looked up. She pointed to the back wall. David grinned and raised his middle finger at her. She frowned and darted her finger more severely. David rolled his eyes but he stood and put his back against the back wall. It was rules in Harbour House that addiction residents had to keep away from the door when nurses were bringing in the carts. A nurse had been attacked recently when one of the addicts tried to steal medication from her trolley. Beverly didn’t feel unsafe around David. Having his back against the wall wasn’t going to make much of a difference anyway. If he really wanted to feed his addiction he would and the cameras watching wouldn’t stop him.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked as a nurse’s general enquiry as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.
“Been better,” David replied. “Been worse.”
The cuff began to inflate to the point he felt his arm was going to pop off. It made him self conscious of the track marks the needles had left behind. He found this strange because they never seemed to bother him before. When the blood pressure was taken and pulse checked she handed him a urine cup.
“I need you to fill this,” she instructed.
David made to take it from her and head to the bathrooms.
“Sorry,” she said stopping him. “You have to do it here. They weren’t happy with your last results.”
“That’s abuse,” David protested with some humour.
“When you are sufficiently clean and sober you can take it up with the city Medical Authorities. In the mean time fill the cup please.”
David wrinkled his nose. “I’m a nervous pisser.”
Beverly shook her head. A smile traced her rosy lips. “Hurry up Finn. You haven’t got anything I haven’t handled before.”
David giggled like a school boy. “Okay nurse kinky, you said just fill the cup.”
Beverly checked the watch clipped to her breast pocket. “And if you could hurry along I’d appreciate it.”
With raised eyebrows David filled the sample cup. The nurse wiped it, stored it and finished checking temperature and pulmonary rate.
Down the hall the beautiful cry of the violin sounded. A group of nurses sat along the bed listening.
‘So handsome,’ they cooed. ‘So talented.’
Vincent Baines had first picked up the violin at age six. It called to him in a way no other instrument did. It cried. It laughed. It covered a whole range of emotions and from the first time he struck the bow across the quivering strings there was love between them. His relationships with people were fraught with emotional turmoil but the violin always hit the right note when needed.
He loved to write concertos for the cry of the violin because only its soft strings seemed to understand him. Sure, the piano had a lot to say and they were well acquainted but it didn’t fill Vincent’s heart and mind they way the violin did. Even with everything that lead him to Harbour House the violin still made sense. It never changed. It never judged. Highs, lows, soft and harsh the violin concerto had it all and for as long as he could play it would always love him.
After the last note was drawn the emotion of the piece still lingered.
A nurse wiped a tear that was forming in her eye. Thy all applauded. Vincent, holding the bow in one hand and the instrument in the other bowed graciously.
“That was beautiful,” one of the nurses gushed.
“Thank you,” Vincent responded politely, storing the black violin with red trimming back in its case. “Just a little something I’ve been working on.”
A bell rang.
“Time to get back to work,” announced the self appointed leader of the group. They filtered out chatting merrily. Vincent followed behind them but took a right in the corridor towards the rec room.
In another part building lay a dressing table. It was old, well used. A special addition to make the occupant of the room feel at home. Tawny was a longer term resident so the good doctor gave some special allowances. The mirror was covered in old fliers from the Knock Knock club as well as photos of old friends, Agnes and a young Tabitha.
The lady herself was found on her way to the rec room. She had her arm linked in that of Glenn’s. “You spend way too much time in here,” she was saying. “You’re a big, handsome fella. You should be out there.”
Glenn smiled shyly. “Between two jobs and my wee lass to look after I don’t really have time …”
“You must be going blind old girl. He’s an ugly cunt,” Curtis teased, sauntering along beside them.
Tawny laughed. She patted Glenn’s arm. “Don’t you listen to him.”
“I don’t,” Glenn assured.
They reached the rec room. “Anyway boys, this is where I get off.”
Vincent was seated at the piano preparing to practice some exercises. Tawny wrapped her arms around him and kissed him as she passed.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” she said. Vincent smiled and patted her arm.
David was leaning over the sofa trying to find the remote so he could switch off a Coldford City football game. City were up three nil against Swantin and he couldn’t bear to watch the celebrations of the arch rivals of his beloved Coldford Athletic. Tawny slapped his backside.
“Good morning, handsome,” she winked. She held out a cigarette. “Ciggy?”
When he looked up he could see Beverly waving the remote at him.
The three took seat at their usual table by the fireplace. Winslow watched them from the door way. Like a fine, oiled machine his beloved facility ran. It was his passion project and like all his other pursuits, Harvester Farm for example, things had to run a very particular way.
Time is ticking by for the residents of Harbour House. A unique rehab facility with standards, laws and regulations all of its own.
Located in the CHAMBERLAIN DOCKS area of SWANTIN in the south of the city, Harbour House Clinic is a stand out feature in the area. With a beautiful expanse of gardens to one side and the main port to the Hathfield Bay islands on the other, Harbour House is the perfect place for recovery.
At Harbour House the residents can enjoy peace and serenity. Most of them are survivors or trauma or recovering from surgery.
Some of the residents are once pillars of the community who have grown tired. At Harbour House they will find the motivation they need.
Longer term residents of Harbour House require special care. The caring and committed staff are all too happy to provide.
Despite having the best psychiatric nurses and doctors on staff, CEO DR G WINSLOW states that it is not an institute but a rehabilitation clinic.
What do a drug addicted artist, a disgraced former music teacher and a night club owning show girl have in common? They are all residents of Harbour House.
Elizabeth is a real force to be reckoned with. Some say she should have been the one to lead the BECKINGRIDGE EMPIRE but as she would quite happily state, she wants nothing to do with the running the family business. Her only interest in BECKINGRIDGE TOWER lies with her own investments, her family name and the support of her brother ERNEST.
A former wild child Elizabeth opts for the quiet life mostly but when she does appear in public she is guaranteed give the press reason to talk about her. She is a snappy dresser, bold conversationalist and you will find yourself either loving or hating her. She doesn’t care which.
Although she is impatient and challenging she is also warm hearted. When things are getting out of hand at the Beckingridge Manor it is she who still stands in protection of the family. As her nephew, George, begins to get out of control it is she who calls upon the music teacher, VINCENT BAINES, to try and give him something to focus on.
A large presence in the Shady City like Beck Tower needs a strong leader to steer it through dangerous waters. They call the financial industry in Coldford the Shark Tank and even although Elizabeth has sharper teeth than most it would take a tragedy to find her at the helm.
When Elizabeth’s young nephew starts asking of the murder his mother was acquitted from she feels it’s time to find the disturbed little boy something to focus on. Music lessons might be key.
The Doyle family have a reputation in the Shady City and cousin Micky has his eyes set on the position of City Mayor. He will be given the opportunity to do what he can to make sure order reaches every part of the city from the comfort of City Hall.
If the KNOCK KNOCK CLUB is responsible for Mayor Feltz going missing Micky can’t be too mad. It has left a spot open for him. Micky is ambitious, so when the door of the Mayor’s office opens he sees opportunity. Why shouldn’t he? He can play a round of politics better than most. Will he improve matters in the Shady City though? He does have some skeletons he can’t let escape his closet.
His powerful friends need his particular charm. Whilst his cousin rules with fear from the HIGH COURT, the LAW MAKERS need someone who can win over a city. Micky Doyle is the wild card of the Doyle family. He is the happy face they put on in times of trouble.
Complete season 1 of the Knock Knock graphic novel series is free to read HERE.
“Yeah fine,” he said. “I may be going away for a few days.”
Leslie was preoccupied emptying her bags.
“Oh? Did you get a new job?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s good pooky.” She took a jewellery box from the bag. Karrer. Diamond merchant. Expensive. “Did you cancel the reservation at Le Worde?”
He hadn’t even made it in the first place.
“No,” he lied. His acting skills coming into call once again.
“I was thinking, you’ve had such a hard time lately with that awful soap opera so you need to relax. Let’s just have a quiet night. Just you and me.”
Laurence smiled. Relief. No acting required.
Leslie took the jewellery boxes. “I’m going to pop these little gems in the safe.”
He hoped she wasn’t planning on wearing them any time soon. He was going to have to return them to get the flight back to COLDFORD.
“Pooky?” She called from the hallway sounding quite distressed. He found her staring into the safe. “Where’s mum’s pearls?”
Oh sugar covered shit stain!
“The last time you wore them they looked a little mucky. I sent them to get cleaned.”
Leslie batted her thick, black eye lashes and puckered. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?”
Laurence committed to the scene. “Not as sweet as you.” He rolled his eyes. “I was keeping it as a surprise.”
Leslie put her silk gloved hands to her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Why don’t I run you a nice hot bath?”
“Only if you’ll join me.”
Get this man an award.
After a week stay at the HARBOUR HOUSE facility in the city Laurence was glad to get back to his rambling beach house in LUEN, away from it all, even if he came sans a kidney.
“The operation was a massive success,” said DR WINSLOW. “ With your kind and generous donation some poor soul with kidney disease will live to see another day – without dialysis.”
“So are we quits with the debt?” Asked the actor feeling a little queasy.
The doctor ignored him. “You know, it’s a pity I’m such a stickler for doctor/patient confidentiality because my patient would get such a kick out of knowing they had a kidney from the Laurence DuBoe. It would have drove the price up …” He turned to Laurence, sat upon a ward bed in the old house styled clinic, clutching his suitcase. He laughed. “Oh don’t look so concerned Laurence. We are talking about people who are clinging to life. They don’t really care where the kidney comes from, they’ll pay the price. We wouldn’t want to start some frenzy now would we?”
Laurence hadn’t thought about it like that before. People had wanted a lot of strange things from him before – signatures on breasts, spat on napkins, old play bills from some of his early plays.
So Laurence was sent home to complete his recovery. He told a distraught Leslie that he had sustained an injury on set and just needed to rest for a few days.
“Just give me a little tinkle on the bell and I’ll bring you whatever you need Loo Loo,” she had gushed, tucking him up in bed with a tray of tea, toast and his favourite orange marmalade.
He must have fallen back asleep. The trip from Coldford to Luen was a simple hour flight. He couldn’t have been jet legged.
“You have just been through major surgery,” he could hear Winslow saying.
It was almost two in the afternoon when he was awoken by the noise of the bells. Their house was large but he could hear voices. Mostly Leslie shrieking.
When he got downstairs he found two repo men carrying out expensive pieces of art.
“Oh Loo Loo!” Leslie rushed into his arms. “These men say we owe them money? That’s not possible? Tell them there must be some mistake.”
The repo men glanced at Laurence but they both had been doing their job long enough to deduce what had happened. He wouldn’t be the first husband to lie to his wife. Probably the first actor husband to make a complete scene of it though.
When the men had gone, leaving behind a notice detailing their return for more in a few days, Laurence sat Leslie down. He had no choice but to come clean to her. He explained what had happened. The drunk driving, the accident with Collette, the deal with Winslow, all of it.
“Oh poor Loo Loo!” She sobbed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How could I?” He asked in the first honest statement he had made in weeks. “I was so ashamed and I thought I could solve it.”