Arts
The Swaling, Part Eighteen
And that was our routine. For the following nights, I would collect Tammy from the Royal Maroc, just after dark, take her to my establishment and pay her in. The night would be spent on [more…]
The Swaling
Arts
The Swaling, Part Seventeen
We’re at a beach near Tangiers, saved from the worst of the city’s sprawl and its hustlers by being some way around the coast. Tammy has just told me that she assumes our mission to [more…]
Arts
The Swaling, Part Sixteen
We’re in the western Mediterranean, on the North African side. Literally in it, myself and Tammy are embarked upon an afternoon swim having escaped from the ever-present pestering mob of Tangiers hustlers, to the empty [more…]
Arts
The Swaling, Part Fifteen
After breakfast, myself and Tammy addressed the world beyond the comfort of the Royal Maroc Hotel. We were rewarded by being mobbed, pulled at and tugged. They wanted to take us to shops, the Casbah, [more…]
Arts
The Swaling, Part Fourteen
Rather than being in a nun’s hostel, or a train compartment (with the Spanish army sleeping in the luggage racks), we’re on a balcony at the Royal Maroc hotel in Tangiers, thanks to Tammy and [more…]
Arts
The Swaling, Part Two
Miss Ng was a council house kid of sorts. Her family rented from Mr Lee’s Housing and Development Board. A truly Utopian organisation, it leased affordable property in projects that contained any and all of [more…]
Arts
The Swaling, Part One
I began to obsess about Mr Reginald Stein on the evening that a party guest, a Mr Hong Gildong, tried to read Mr Stein’s Turkish rug. My wife thought him ill. Our student maid, Rose, [more…]