Last Stop Hotel E-Book

Michael David

• Herausgeber: Grosvenor House Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 213

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

An imaginative and captivating collection of short stories, micro fiction, and poetry. From gritty, darkly comedic tales of crime in the underworlds of London and New York, to doomed romances, gothic horror fantasies, and thought-provoking science fiction, each of these stories speak to the state of the world and the challenges faced by everyday people. Bookending these stories, the author tells us more about his life growing up and what has led him to explore writing and the themes that permeate his work. This unique collection, full of humour and heart, is not to be missed.

Leseprobe

Contents

A Crazy Life

Last Stop Hotel

The Thin Blue Line

No Rest for the Wicked

Customer Service

Who Needs Friends

The Mexican with the New Shoes

Suckers Come and Go

Hits from the Bong

The Joking Dead

Moaner Lisa

My Brush with the Black Widow

Living in America

Mother’s Day

More Money for Me

The Trigger-happy Hood

Cowboys and Gangsters

Law of the Jungle

What’s a Little Murder Between Friends

Licence to Steal

Pimping Ain’t Easy

Valentino’s Big Break

The Brother in the New Suit

Brother John

Have-a-go Charlie

When the Going gets Tough

The Dickless Soldier

The Deviously Rich

Our Friendly GP

Yin and Yang

Bats in the Belfry

Black in America

The Little Guy

The Cockney Rebels

Mack the Knife

The Quiet Life

National Security

The Beginning of the End

The Coronavirus

The Greater Good

Death

Winter in July

Man’s Best Friend

Let it Flow

Monsters and Demons

Poor Little Caesar

In a Godless World

A Wager with Death

See You on the Other Side

Open Season

When an Angel Calls

The Power of Words

Fools in Love

The Comfortable Preacher

Black Boy Joe

Questions

We Reap What We Sow

Bad Boy

Respect for the Dead

Discovering who I am

Copyright

I would like to thank everyone at Grosvenor House Publishing for making my book possible. And I would like to dedicate this book to my agent, Melanie Bartle at GHP, who helped and supported me along the way. Your advice was much appreciated, thank you.

And who else? Oh, yes, and to my readers. Thank you, enjoy, and have a very pleasant life. What was that? I was laying it on too thick? Give me a break. I was trying to be nice…

A Crazy Life

I remember being a kid growing up in south-east London. I’d sneak into pubs with my friends, and they’d turn a blind eye. In the ’70s, not even the cops were interested as long as we kept quiet and behaved ourselves, but back then nothing was predictable. In 1973, when I was 11, my family moved to a council estate in Lee Green. The local pub was a place called the Northbrook. When I was a youngster, I’d go in there, have a drink and watch the entertainment. I was shy and had problems socializing, but after a few, I was everyone’s friend. I remember sitting at a table with the comedian Max Wall. He’d have a few and do his funny walk. Had us all in fits. And having a drink with Patrick Murray who played Mickey Pearce, the cockney conman in Only Fools and Horses. He had problems later with cancer. Rest in peace. He’d wander in occasionally and tell us funny stories. The punters loved him. There were plenty of jokers in the Northbrook and you were guaranteed a laugh. You’ve probably heard the saying fact is stranger than fiction. Well, I remember one time when they had trouble finding a landlord.

The Northbrook was owned by the brewery. Every few months they’d send a new landlord because the last one had to leave in a hurry. One landlord was only there a couple of hours. Someone knocked him out with a punch, and while he was sleeping on the floor everyone was serving themselves. “And don’t forget the till and the smokes.” So, the brewery sent another landlord. And people used to roll joints on the bar and get Rizlas behind the counter. You’d see the bar staff walking around stoned. I don’t know how they did their job. If you were an idiot, you were in good company. I went there for the free booze and a bit of work and kept out of trouble. A couple of years later, there were bouncers on the door.

I know what you’re thinking: people can’t be that stupid. I knew a dealer that used to drive around stoned. When the cops pulled him over for dangerous driving they found two kilos in his car. It’s a good job he wasn’t working for the Columbians. He’d be lying in some wall. And there’s a saying in London: where there’s mugs, there’s villains. Some of the pubs in London serve stolen goods behind the bar, or they know a man you can go to.

You just whisper in the bar guy’s ear, “I’ll have a pint, and I’m looking for a TV.” And he’ll tell you to come back later.

And if you want drugs, he’ll point to a dealer. “See that fella over there.” And he’d get a commission from the dealer.

I don’t know what the pubs are like in your area, but in those days, London pubs were run by villains and somebody else’s name was on the door. The cops knew what was going on, but long as they got paid, who’s judging who. And they’d get a free drink from the tap. “Hey, snap my picture with Ronnie Biggs here.” I know, you can’t make up this bullshit. I look at the trouble in some of these areas with drugs and booze and I’m not surprised.

You’ve probably heard the story. Two strangers sitting in a bar. One turns to the other and tries to impress him about how important he is. He’s done this and that and knows a lot of people. So, the other guy gives him a funny look. “So, what’s it to me?”

“Just wanted you to know I can get any drugs you want.”

So, the other guy brought out a badge and told him, “That’s good to know.”

I know, every pub has one. Don’t get me started. Before we had social media, we had word of mouth. In London, people were known by reputation. The Criminal Wall of Fame. If you didn’t hear about a face, they weren’t worth knowing. I remember sitting in a pub watching the villains come through the door with their birds. They thought they were movie stars. They were admired and respected. Everybody wanted to be one.

“Is that who I think it is?”

“Yeah, a legend in his own mind.”

But if you smiled and played along, they were good for a few drinks. Like the saying goes, ‘a fool and their money’. And the people they were trying to impress were cretins just like them. Then they’d disappear for a while, and you’d hear they were in prison. Just another forgotten legend. The glamorous life of a crook.

You’re probably thinking, this guy’s clued up. He should have been a criminal psychologist. Joking! The crime rate would go up. I’ve been here a long time, but I’m still bumping into things.

Once I got a job as a security guard watching an old building at night. I was the only one there and thought the place was haunted. It gave me the creeps. First week on the job, my boss turned up on the site and saw me gone. He found me later in the pub. I was fired on the spot. And I got another job behind a bar. It was the landlord’s night off. People came in, bought a drink – “And get one for yourself.” The landlord came in later and found me unconscious on the floor. Money was gone and the place had been raided. I was sleeping, so it wasn’t me. Lost that job too.

I remember going into the job centre before I signed on sick. I’d be half-cut with a bottle in my pocket. They can’t bar you from drinking. They’d look at me and shake their heads like I was a lost cause. They were happy I was gone. I’m not proud of it, but I was a hopeless drunk.

Yeah, and there’s more bullshit. I’ve met some characters in my life. Some of them I’m embarrassed to talk about. Alcohol is like a truth-teller. It lowers the inhibitions and brings out your true self. I’ve seen gentle people turn nasty under the influence. I knew this little old man who wouldn’t hurt a fly. The sweetest guy you could meet, but after some Gold Label, he was Jekyll and Hyde. I was drinking with him and another guy. Just a regular Saturday night. After a few drinks he wanted to fight everyone. I thought it was funny, but the other guy knocked him out with a punch. It was like a Popeye movie. I couldn’t believe it! I thought he was dead! I made my excuses and got out of there fast! I know, naughty, naughty. Should have stuck around to make sure he was alright, but I was drunk. Anyway, I saw him the next day and he was okay. Didn’t even remember it. It was crazy. But for me alcohol had the opposite effect. It made me stupid and funny. Some like being around a crowd, but my biggest fear was shopping and crowded places, but once the alcohol hit me, I didn’t have a care in the world. And I always had a bottle of Dutch courage in my bag. Like the American Express advert. Never leave home without it. I remember drinking some White Lightning cider. That stuff will turn you into a zombie. And it was cheap. Talk about rocket fuel. I’m lucky I still have a brain to think with.

Once I was living in Great Yarmouth, drinking with some bums. One of them had cirrhosis of the liver from years of booze. His stomach was so big. He looked like a beached whale. The doctor warned him to stop drinking, but he didn’t care. He used to joke about dying. Then one day he got his wish. A group of us were drinking in his living room when he fell asleep and didn’t wake up. The ghouls gave him a minute’s silence and carried on drinking. Life goes on. It was like a Guy Ritchie movie. I don’t know about you, but I get a little paranoid drinking with a dead body. I thought, what am I doing here? These idiots were brain dead. That could be me lying there, and the only thing we had in common was the booze. It was a wake-up call. Adios, amigo, time to jog on. So, I hopped on a train and went to Colchester. Stayed a few nights in a night shelter, and they moved me onto bedsits and flats. The last place was like living on Elm Street. And the neighbour thought he was Freddy. I couldn’t sleep at night. Thought he was staring at me through the wall. I spent ten miserable years there, then got out before I ended up in a mental hospital. Gave the landlord one week’s notice and went to Suffolk. That fucker was sad to see me go. Who was going to play with Damien? I now live in a nice place with friendly people. And I’ve been sober and drug clean for more than ten years.

Some people say ignorance is bliss, but that’s bullshit. I left school at 15 with no qualifications. I was illiterate until middle age. Then it hit me how dumb I was. If you’re an idiot, people treat you like an idiot. Lacking an education made it difficult to survive. So, I taught myself to read and write. I told myself if others could do it, so, could I. People like ex-slave Frederick Douglas in the 19th century who became a journalist, and a leader for human rights. He helped free slaves during the American Civil War. And Malcolm X who taught himself how to read and write in prison. He showed the world that a man can change despite everything going against him. But I was more of a Martin Luther King kind of guy. Peace, love, and integration. Some think you need a classroom for an education, but all throughout history there are many great people that have educated themselves and have proved that education isn’t solely dependent on an institution. It’s determination, self-motivation, and our thirst for knowledge that inspires us to learn. And given the right environment, we all have the capability to improve our minds. And now I can read and write fluently.

At a certain age, you start to realize that being dumb isn’t an easy life. You make bad choices and get involved with the wrong crowd. But now my eyes are open. Many underestimate the value of a good education. They think its only purpose is to find work. But there’s more to life. A good education teaches us about people and the world around us. And enables us to understand ourselves.

A lot has happened in my life, but I don’t dwell on the bad stuff. I keep a positive mind and make light of a bad situation. People may knock me for having a sense of humour, but humour gets you through the day. And as they say, if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.

I look around and see the kind of world we’re living in. People have stopped caring. We’ve become insensitive and have forgotten what it’s like to be human. People see autistic people as lacking in empathetic intelligence, but when it comes to people and emotions, they see things from a different perspective and have a clearer understanding. Back then, I didn’t have the intelligence to make sense of who I was. My environment lacked the care and provisions for people with a disability like mine. So, I acquired my wisdom and understanding from my experiences and mistakes. And drinking was just a way to cope. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done, but that’s the way it was. You can’t change things so don’t dwell on it. Learn from your mistakes and turn your life around.

If you don’t drink, it may be difficult to understand why people feel the need to drink. Some do it to get wasted and forget, but I drank to help me with my autism. To help me cope. I’m not criticizing alcohol and saying it’s good or bad. When you’ve had a hard day, you need something to unwind. But it’s being responsible enough to control how you behave. And knowing when to stop. It was destroying my life, so I had to quit. When I first started drinking it gave me a nice buzz, and the confidence to face people, but it was only short-term. Then I became dependent on alcohol and needed it to survive. And then there was the misery of supporting the habit. Most of the time it was a desperate struggle. I’d be wandering the street with the shakes fretting about the next drink. Trust me, you don’t need it. It was suicidal. Some think being a drunk is a glamorous life. Well, we live and learn. Anyway, take care and have a good life.

I knew a guy who thought he was King Tut. Instead of getting on with folks and enjoying life, he had to prove he was better than them. People meant nothing to him. They were just a nuisance that got in his way. So, he made life difficult for himself and ended up a lonely and bitter person. They say too much ego can warp your mind. If you get like that, put a bullet in your head. Hey, I was only joking! Put down the gun!

Here’s a story about two bank robbers, a haunted hotel, and a full moon. Has anyone got any popcorn? Enjoy…

Last Stop Hotel

Me and my baby had just robbed a bank and were on the run from the law. As she drove the getaway car, my baby was like a demon behind the wheel. I had to tell her to slow down. “Take it easy, baby, I think we’ve lost them.”

“You think? Those cops are like cockroaches around every corner!”

“I’m sure. Now let’s dump the wheels and get another and make like a couple of tourists.”

“Anything else, my lord and master?”

“And cut the wisecracks.”

My boss gave us directions to a hideout. A hotel that catered for wanted criminals, and we were told to bring plenty of dough. I looked at the loot on the back seat and smiled.

“Is it far?” asked my baby.

“Keep going. We’ll be there soon.”

“Are you driving?”

“Let me know when you’re tired.”

So, we hijacked another car and left the owner floating in the river. Thanks, buddy. Then took turns at the wheel and slept in the car. When we got near our destination, we dumped the wheels and went the rest of the way on foot. It was night as we crept through the forest. I looked at the map and pointed. “Couple of miles that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

She gave me a funny look. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I pushed her forward. “Quit yapping and start walking.”

“Well, if it doesn’t pan out, it was nice knowing you.”

My baby made me smile. “Always the optimist.”

As we cleared a path through some trees, we saw an old mansion with lights in the windows, surrounded by a big garden.

My baby pointed. “Is that it?”

I looked at the map. “It appears so.”

“Doesn’t it seem a little remote?”

“That’s the whole idea.”

“Who owns it?”

“I never ask questions.”

“Why not?”

“Wise guys get killed.”

She gave me a worried look. “You know what they say about the dumb leading the blind. When I’m with you, I don’t know which is which.”

“Relax, baby, what’s the worst that could happen?”

She brought out her gun. “Let’s go and find out.”

I told her to put it away. “They might get the wrong idea.”

“One day, I’m going to regret trusting you,” she told me, putting it away.

So, we went to the door like a couple of honeymooners and rang the bell. It played an eerie tune that put a tingle in my toes. My baby trembled by my side. The door opened and an old man in a black suit, who resembled Lurch, greeted us. Maybe he was dressed for Halloween.

“How may I help you?”

My baby went to walk away, but I pulled her back.

“Hi.” I smiled. “I believe you’re expecting us. My boss booked us a room.”

He asked for our names. So, I gave him fake ones.

He looked around. “Are you alone?”

I raised the bag of loot. “Just us and a few friends.”

He stepped aside to let us through and showed us into a large room and told us to wait. “I’ll get the master.”

When he was gone, my baby gave me a funny look. “Do they still say master?”

“He’s a servant and servants have masters.”

“Remind me again when we meet Count Dracula.”

My baby was a racket. “Relax, baby, soon we’ll be sailing in the Bahamas with new identities.”

“Well, if I end up like him, I’ll shoot myself.”

I told her, “If you end up like him, I’ll do it for you.”

“I bet you would.”

The ghoul came back with a middle-aged guy in a black suit who looked like somebody’s dead uncle. What was with all the black suits around here? Were they in mourning?

He held out a hand. “I believe you’re looking for a room?”

I shook it. “We got your invitation.”

“Your friend is a valued client. How long would you like to stay?”

I told him a couple of weeks, maybe three.

“And you understand that we only take cash?”

I raised the bag of loot and told him, “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Want me to settle now?”

“When you leave. Would you like something to eat?”

“I’m famished.” I turned to my baby. “What about you?”

She told me she could eat a horse. So, he took us into a large dining room and sat us at a table. “Someone will come to serve you shortly.”

As we waited, my baby told me, “Remember that house on haunted hill? It has nothing on this place.”

“Would you like to take your chances out there?”

“Maybe we’d have better odds. So, what’s the plan?”

“I know a guy that can get us out of the country.”

“Let me guess, you know a guy that knows a guy?”

A man appeared by our side like an apparition and almost made us jump.

“Where’d you come from?”

He ignored the question and gave us a menu. We ordered, then he went back to the kitchen.

He came back with our meals and place them on the table.

I asked, “Where is everyone? Are they playing hide and seek?”

“They’ve retired to their rooms, sir.”

My baby looked at her watch and gave him a funny look. “This early? It’s only 10:15.”

He went away as silently as he arrived.

I told her, “Maybe they have an early start.”

My baby shook her head. “Yeah, I wonder what time they rise up in Hell?”

After the meal, I complimented the chef. It put us in good spirit and made us forget all our troubles.

I tipped him a hundred. “Hey, when you’re through here. Come work for me.”

But he shook it away. “Your money’s no good here.”

“You do buy things?”

He just looked at us with vacant eyes, then walked away.

My baby played around with her food. “Did you check for poison?”

You’ve heard the saying ‘be careful what you wish for’. My baby was wearing me down. “Are you ready for bed?”

As if on cue our host appeared.

“Man, with those Hush Puppies, you’d make a good cop.”

“Can I show you to your room.”

As we creaked along the passage, I asked, “Are these floorboards alive?”

I get how some people are unresponsive, but this guy was like the walking dead.

He opened the door. “Breakfast will be at eight in the dining room.” And left us.

As we sat on the bed, I asked my baby, “So what do you think?”

“I’ll let you know if we wake up in the morning.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

“Did you see the movie where a couple book into a haunted hotel?”

I told her it was a good film.

“It didn’t end well.”

I shook my head. My baby made me laugh. “Maybe you should swap trades. You’d make a good comedian.”

“Let’s sleep.”

“Don’t you want to make love?”

“It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

I showed her a sad face. “And my baby needs her beauty sleep.”

“Shut up and hit the sack.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

So, I switched off the light and got into bed.

I was woken by a tapping on the door. When I opened my eyes, my baby was wide awake beside me.

“Did you hear that?”

My mind was somewhere else. “Maybe someone got lost?”

“Yeah, looking for the toilet with an axe.”

“You’ve got an overactive mind.”

“Then go and see.”

“You go.”

“You go.”

“No, you go.”

“Let’s both go together.”

So, we got our guns and went to the door.

When I tried the door, it was jammed.

My baby looked like a punk on angel dust. “That’s it, we’re shooting our way out of here!”

I told her to relax. “Maybe it’s stuck.”

When I tried it again, it opened.

My baby had a crazy look in her eyes. “Someone’s fucking with us!”

When I checked outside, the corridor was dark and empty.

“Who’s there?” I called. No answer.

I turned to my baby and shrugged.

She gave me that look. “Did a ghost knock the door?”

“Maybe it was nothing.”

“Well, let’s walk around and make sure.”

So, I told my baby to stay close and went out the door.

My baby tapped me on the back with her gun. “I’m right behind you.”

I pushed it away. “And watch where you’re pointing that thing.”

As we went through the passage, a light from the full moon filtered through an un-curtained window.

My baby was shaking behind me. “If there’s a monster, I’m shooting you first.”

“Then you’ll have no one to share the loot with.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

As we carried on walking, I tried a few doors, but they were locked. And then we heard a howling noise like a wolf baying at the moon.

We froze.

My baby looked over my shoulder. “What was that?”

I shrugged. “Probably the wind.”

She looked at me like I had rocks in my head. “Can the wind howl?”

My baby was giving me the heebie-jeebies. “Stay close, I got this.”

“If we get out of this, I never want to see you again.”

As we carried on walking, there were more howling. Then it stopped.

My baby gave me a funny look. “There’s howling and everyone’s still sleeping. Doesn’t that seem a little strange?”

“Maybe they’re deep sleepers?”

“Yeah, too deep.”

I handed her the bag behind me. “Here, take this while I go and investigate.”

When I was still holding the bag, I looked around. My baby was gone!

“Baby, where are you?” But I was greeted with silence.

“Stop messing around! Where are you?”

Only the haunting silence, then the howling started again.

“Who’s there?” I cried, waving the gun around.

More howling and scratching like claws scraping the walls.

This shit was creeping me out! “Hey, stop fucking around! Who’s there?”

More howling and scraping.

I wanted to start blasting, but didn’t want to waste bullets. “Come out and show yourself!”

Scrape, scrape, scrape, and more howling.

“Come out, fucker, wherever you are!”

Scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape.

I had a mind to hot toe it out of there, but where to? So, I cried at my tormentor, “You can run, but you can’t hide!”

A shadow passed in front of me. Then it was gone.

Yeah, who was I kidding? I was imagining all kinds of crazy shit! Warm liquid was coursing down my pants. So, I screamed, “Alright! Alright! You win! I give up!”

But the howling and scraping came closer.