How it started......

(This is the starting of the first chapter of a novel that I planned some months ago. I think I wrote it in July 2013 and this idea has been in the closet for long. Now I am thinking of proceeding wit

Miss Lily Swange curtly nodded at her gardener and picked up the newspaper. Life had been one of routine since her husband had passed away a decade ago. She had had three grandsons and five grand daughters. Every year she visited all of them. Laboriously she sent them gifts and cards. She remembered everyone’s birthday. But still the spirit had gone out of her life. She was eagerly waiting for the day when she would be relieved of all these duties and could be happy and carefree. Her only joy was her great nephew George who visited her every week. His parents had been killed in the airplane crash in Sweden. His parents hadn’t left him much to survive on but enough to help him study till the university. But George, young, in his early teenage was carefree. His persuaded his caretaker to leave him, took up lodgings with some friends of his and led an enjoyable life. Aunt Lily, as he called her, persuaded him ‘n’ number of times to come and live with him but it fell on deaf ears. George wouldn’t hear of it, he just visited her every week and livened her up.

                        Aunt Lily sighed as she picked up the newspaper and went inside. Her maid Marie, a nice plump French girl, was preparing toast and coffee. She had been with her for more than 10 years. Aunt Lily opened the newspaper, at the same time taking a toast. The first article called up for an exclamation from her. She called out to Marie, “Marie, Ask the baker to deliver the meat in advance. Its price is going to shoot up this week.” Marie, who was going out nodded. Aunt Lily turned to the next page. She gasped and the newspaper slipped from her hands. She called out to Marie but Marie had already left. Aunt Lily rallied herself and picked up the newspaper again. She went through the article again intently.

Turnselmouth: Yesterday, the police busted the French gang of Art Thieves who have been active in Britain for the preceding three years. The gang had stolen many of the reputable pictures and sold them off to the rich Arabs. They would usually target the museums and the auction warehouses. What’s more surprising is that a minor, a teenager boy was caught with them. It seems that the boy had been helping them collect information about antique pictures in the neighbourhood. It is unfortunate that a boy should be thieving at such a young age. The boy, George Earlow had lost his parents and so had sought his friends for help. The friends had roped him in their gang.

 

 

 

Author's Note

(This is the starting of the first chapter of a novel that I planned some months ago. I think I wrote it in July 2013 and this idea has been in the closet for long. Now I am thinking of proceeding with this.)

Reviews

[Konigin]

I like This Neeraj! I am not usually into these kinds of novels. But this captured my attention. Looking forward to the next installments. :)

[Neeraj V Murali]

Thanks... :)

[melissa]

this is amazing chapter so far i hope you write more if this book keep up the great work i hope to read more

[Neeraj V Murali]

Thanks Melissa. I will post more, I think....

[melissa]

You're welcome

[New Theory]

Thrilling start, I will only comment on the story, you check the grammar and all. Lets see the next chapter :)

[Neeraj V Murali]

Right. Thanks ;)

[New Theory]

You are welcome :)