Roaming Brit
  • Blog
  • The Story Of Us
  • Other Blogs
    • Forever Enduring Cycles Blog 2015 >
      • Forever Enduring Cycles
      • Bipolarcoaster
      • Books For Sale
  • Gallery
  • Spain
    • First Month
    • Three Months
    • Six Months
    • One Year
    • 2 Year Anniversary
    • Spanish Views
    • Gran Alacant >
      • GA Advertiser
      • Gran Alacant News
      • LoungeD
      • No Wives Club
  • About
    • New Life
    • Wedding
    • 21 Years
    • Timeline
    • My Story
    • Australia 2016/17
  • Guest Bloggers
    • Penelope Wren
    • Debra Rufini
    • Claire Coe
    • Richard Guy
    • Optimistic Mummy
    • Julie Rawlinson
    • Letters Of Hope
  • Links
  • Contact
  • My Writing
    • Short Stories From My Youth
    • Verruca Almond
    • The Streets

From a new life in spain, to an old life in britain, 'roaming brit' documents uncertain times!

Picture

On 31st January 2016, my partner and I left Southampton to start a new life as Expats in Gran Alacant, on the Costa Blanca. This blog will document our journey, as we navigate the Spanish system, travelling a path untried and untested. With Brexit looming, political turmoil in Europe and an unpredictable future, harsh decisions have to be made. Illness, family bonds and a Change of heart all make for challenging times in a life of a 'Roaming Brit!'

Picture

Betty's Revenge Part II!

27/2/2018

0 Comments

 
Picture
In July 2015 I wrote a series of short stories entitled 'Betty's Revenge.' 'Betty's Revenge,' describes the turbulent, terrifying relationship between a Headmistress and her secretary. Betty had worked at the school for many years,  suffering bullying and abuse on a daily basis. As her predicament reaches crisis point, Betty finally snaps!

In total I wrote three short stories about Betty and never finished the series; something I aim to do in 'Spanish Views.' I have readjusted the words and tidied up the grammar, for a new readership. 'Betty's Revenge,' was written at a stressful time, published in my first blog 'Bipolarcoaster;' as such a rehash is needed.

'Betty's Revenge,' in part refers to the difficulties I was experiencing whilst, working for Oxfam, under a sociopathic boss. My writing then, very much centred around what was unraveling in my life and documents a very grueling twelve months. Betty was a way of offloading my frustrations and anger, without incriminating Oxfam employees, who at the time were under investigation.


Betty's Revenge Part II

I had always planned her murder, I knew one day I would; if she just pushed me enough, I would crack.  I could not take any more, could today be the day; could I really do it, push that letter opener straight through her cold heart.  Yes I could, I would, for me, for Frank, for the children and School, for the damn good of humanity.  I really will do it this time, she had it coming to her....

For a brief second she nearly had me, down at heel, at her level of immorality and lack of self control; temporarily I had reached such depths of depravity, that I became her. I AM NOT HER!  I am a good, moral and truthful person, who only seeks to right her wrongs.  I may be just a secretary, but I am a damn good one and she knows it; I stay because of circumstances, not out of loyalty.

She stood there, towering above me, as I lay on the floor.  I had such fear and loathing, I was unable to distinguish between the two; a momentary loss of faculties, that could have quite easily turned bad; I must practice self control.  I am better than her, she is but a spineless shadow, manipulating her way through life, through the misfortunes of others;  give me strength!

Her alcohol soaked breath, engulfed my senses; the disgusting smell of a drunk, nothing more, nothing less.  Her strength came in a bottle, her control through hate and her violence through lack of character.  She could barely stand up and her voice was racing; virtually inaudible.  Suddenly I felt strong, better than her, above her warped deeds and for the first time, she was lower than I'd ever seen her.  She was an old, near blind middle aged spinster, caught up in her own game of power and control. What the hell was I doing on the floor, confronted by this shell of a soul.

I placed my arms firmly on the floor, my nails dug vigorously into the parquet wood beneath; gripping onto all the wrongs that she had done to me and others.  The more I thought about her terrible acts, the firmer I gripped, the angrier I became and the more determined I felt.  One nail broke, followed by another, then the rest.  My perfectly manicured hands, turned into those of a navvy; I had always looked after my fingers, they were my livelihood, but today it did not matter, they became the hoist to lift me from the depths of despair; suffered all these years.  

Arthritis or not, there was no pain today. I stood taller than the cheap heels on her feet, firmer than the bottle in her hand; I was now in charge.  As I pushed my self upright, I noticed, just how small she was; a fake person, stooped over through years of abuse and bitterness.  Her clothes were soiled, unkempt and her sarcastic grin became a quivering lip of submission.  She actually looked scared of me, the woman she took great pride in destroying, for her own satisfaction.

This was my time and I wasn't going to let it go........


First Written 18 July 2015
Picture
Picture


0 Comments

Betty's Revenge!

25/2/2018

0 Comments

 
Picture
In July 2015 I wrote a series of short stories entitled 'Betty's Revenge.' 'Betty's Revenge,' describes the turbulent, terrifying relationship between a Headmistress and her secretary. Betty had worked at the school for many years,  suffering bullying and abuse on a daily basis. As her predicament reaches crisis point, Betty finally snaps!

In total I wrote three short stories about Betty and never finished the series; something I aim to do in 'Spanish Views.' I have readjusted the words and tidied up the grammar, for a new readership. 'Betty's Revenge,' was written at a stressful time, published in my first blog 'Bipolarcoaster;' as such a rehash is needed.

'Betty's Revenge,' in part refers to the difficulties I was experiencing whilst, working for Oxfam, under a sociopathic boss. My writing then, very much centred around what was unraveling in my life and documents a very grueling twelve months. Betty was a way of offloading my frustrations and anger, without incriminating Oxfam employees, who at the time were under investigation.


Betty's Revenge Part I

We always dreaded Monday mornings, they were her worst days.  The stale stench of woodbines, cheap cider and bad breath always tainted the air.  As I approached the office, ever so gently, no shoes on, creeping slowly, oh so slowly towards her badly beaten door, my anxiety got deeper and deeper. Sweat began to pour from my brow, into my blood shot eyes, down my frequently broken nose and onto my dimpled chin. A bead of moisture hung there for just a fleeting second, before falling to the floor outside her nicotine stained office.  The sound of that single drop, was enough to wake her from where she passed out the night before; the slightest, tiniest most insignificant sound always heard, from her cauliflower ears; able to hear distances, only a cat could detect.

'Oh crap, I'm in for it now!' Shaking with fear, I placed my trembling hand on the brass handle to her office. Inscribed on the door were the words, 'Worlds End;' I continued with the worst task of the week, entering that disgusting, decaying  room; a left over from a bygone era.  I never liked to knock, preferring if possible to keep her in a passed out state; a victim of her exhausting, timeless, painstaking task, of 'doing her best for everyone;' our boss, our friend, confidante, person to look up to.  She was feared throughout the building; everyone's nightmare; our poor misunderstood headmistress, as she always referred to herself.

It was like a game of 'Cat and Mouse', would she move or not; had I got away with it this time or was she going to beat the hell out of me again.  I had got used to the bruises, but on this particular Monday, I was still in pain from her neck brace, inflicted as she passed out the Friday before.  She accused me of lies and falsehoods; ironic, considering its the only way she knew herself. She said I was scum, a no good for nothing used up old secretary, who only owed her existence to her kind and generous nature.  In her terrifying mind, she was a martyr, do-gooder and humanitarian; the truth was rather more terrifying!

I know I should have stood up to her, but we needed the money; my husband was disabled and the medication wasn't cheap.  We ate very little, barely had enough to get by, but at least Frank had the pills he needed.  My only hope, was that she would change into that person I once knew, the one who used to help others, smile sweetly and cast a motherly eye over everyone, who worked in that run down dilapidated school.  Of course that would never happen; she had become unrecognisable, a deranged shell of evil thoughts and vicious ungodliness.  She was demented with rage, piercing even the thickest skin with her satanic, alcohol fueled eyes; a woman who cracked open bottles of Stella with her teeth.  She scared the living daylight out of me and she knew it; her nasty grin, decomposed voice, loud, gravelly and animated, booming from one end of the staff room to the other.  She was bitter and twisted, dangerous, a thing to be avoided and she loved it!

'How dare you enter without knocking'  her booming voice, like knives through my nerves. Shaking uncontrollably, hardly able to speak, I offered my deepest apologies!

'I didn't want to wake you, Miss!' I replied.

With a single backhander, to my face, she knocked me to the floor.  Stunned, I shook my head.  Tears began to fill my eyes;  oh god, not again;  So much pain.  I was thin and pale, badly marked, and inflicted with the scars of my job, and for what, for taking her the post on a Monday morning......


First written 18 July 2015
Picture
Picture


0 Comments

    Author

    51-year-old Author and professional blogger. Expat formerly living in Gran Alacant on the Costa Blanca! Currently, residing in my adopted home of Perth, Western Australia.

    Picture

      Contact Luke.

    Submit
    Picture
    Click me & email for more information!
    Picture
    Picture

    Categories

    All
    Asia-2019
    Australia
    Australia 2022/23
    Bettys-revenge
    Bipolar
    Bipolarcoaster
    Britain
    Bullying
    Business
    Cancer Research
    Cats
    Characters-i-have-known
    Charity
    Charlatan-or-confidant
    Christmas Thoughts
    Claybornes World
    Coming-out-stories
    Cooking
    Coronavirus
    Croatia 2022
    Current Affairs Politics
    Darrell In The Uk
    Death Of Queen Elizabeth
    Dunbars
    Easy Horse Care
    Events
    Events That Shaped My World
    Family
    Fascinating Facts
    Friends & Colleagues
    Gran Alacant
    Guest Bloggers
    Ibs
    Immigration
    Information
    Inspirational People
    Interviews
    Japan And Thailand 2020
    Jersey-2019
    Lifestyle Break
    Lockdown-life-in-photos
    London 2022
    Lounge-d
    Luke-martin-jones-awards
    Marmite Watch
    Memories Of Fareham
    Memories-of-home
    Memories-of-southampton
    Memories Of Spain
    Me-too-oxfam
    Milestones
    Moving
    My Life
    My Writing
    Non Touch Toast
    Oxfam Sociopathy
    Penelope Wren
    Photographs-of-hope
    Pippa
    Platinum Jubilee
    Quotes
    Rabs-world
    Remembering Gran Alacant
    Reviewing Gran Alacant
    Santa-pola
    Self-isolation
    Shopping
    Short Stories From My Youth
    Southampton
    Spiritual
    Teaching Jamie
    Thailand 2022
    The-darkness
    The-streets
    The Two Of Us
    Travel
    Verruca-almond
    Villa In The Sun
    Visits From Friends
    War In Europe
    Weight Loss & Health
    Year In Review 2015
    Year In Review 2016
    Year In Review 2017
    Year In Review 2018
    Year In Review 2019
    Year In Review 2020
    Year In Review 2021
    Year In Review 2022
    Zest

    Archives

    February 2023
    January 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015

    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Tweets by realtruthblog
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture


    Instagram
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    A place to call home
    Finally, a place we can call home.  A community of like minded individuals, who used to call Britain home.  Now Spain is our choice, an altogether gentler, happier, sunnier and safer experience!
            Luke Feb 16
    Picture
Picture
Picture

Telephone

+447999663360

Email

lukemartin.jones@gmail.com
  • Blog
  • The Story Of Us
  • Other Blogs
    • Forever Enduring Cycles Blog 2015 >
      • Forever Enduring Cycles
      • Bipolarcoaster
      • Books For Sale
  • Gallery
  • Spain
    • First Month
    • Three Months
    • Six Months
    • One Year
    • 2 Year Anniversary
    • Spanish Views
    • Gran Alacant >
      • GA Advertiser
      • Gran Alacant News
      • LoungeD
      • No Wives Club
  • About
    • New Life
    • Wedding
    • 21 Years
    • Timeline
    • My Story
    • Australia 2016/17
  • Guest Bloggers
    • Penelope Wren
    • Debra Rufini
    • Claire Coe
    • Richard Guy
    • Optimistic Mummy
    • Julie Rawlinson
    • Letters Of Hope
  • Links
  • Contact
  • My Writing
    • Short Stories From My Youth
    • Verruca Almond
    • The Streets