We’re in the underground gaming room of the Lucky Saddle Craft Company, sat around the Kranji table. We being the unlikely finalists of an unlikely competition, raised from Singapore’s high and not so high society, [more…]
Being an independent author is a tough gig at the best times: not only do you have to write, edit, proof-read and typeset the manuscript without assistance (unless you have contacts willing to help), but [more…]
“Point of order,” I called optimistically while raising my hand. “Mr Worth,” snapped Jeremy Tan, “you can’t have a point of order in an auction.” “We’re not in an auction,” I pointed out, “nobody’s made [more…]
Mr Hong Gildong opened the double doors of the Lucky Saddle Craft Company’s underground Salon Prive gaming room to reveal a diminutive figure wrapped in a sodden pac-a-mac. A hood was pulled over the face [more…]
“Mesdames et Messieurs, welcome to Le Salon Privé of the Lucky Saddle Craft Company, Geylang Road, Singapore. Are you ready to rumble? I said, are you ready to rumble?” Mr Tan was enjoying himself. A [more…]
We are in a secret corridor beneath the Lucky Saddle Craft Company at the quiet end of Geylang Road. ‘We’ being myself and Mrs Dora Clogg (still clutching her handbag) both of the Spanish intelligence [more…]
“Hostage swap.” “Hostage swap?” I repeated. “Yes, hostage swap. You’re going to be late,” said the voice at the other end of our Dumfries Street townhouse street gate intercom. I shouted to my Chinese cousin, [more…]
Pandemonium has broken out. “Why the f___ would I want to marry you? Why would anyone want to marry you?” Natasha is yelling and has started to throw things about. At first, Jakey laughed so [more…]
I’m in the lobby of an Islington apartment block. Natasha has directed me and my ward, a wet and dripping pushchair containing a toddler called Jakey, to the lift. Too small for the three of [more…]
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