Always Leave Them Smiling

But it was Betsy who put a smile on my face. Dropped me a note on my eighteenth birthday to meet her in the car park at lunchtime.

I had so much fun writing this occasionally sexy, dark comedy - where a cheeky chap navigates loves, lies, and responsibilities.

The story took me through to the final round of a competition a few years ago. The spec was to write a tale that began with - The wind howled around the corners of the cabin.

The main character is an anti-hero. Always fun to create. He’s called Johnny and is loosely based on my adopted dad, who was also a long distance lorry driver and a bit of a lad (among other things), before he died in his 40s.

It is set mainly during the 1970s and, as usual, I researched somewhat before writing.

• The lorry Johnny drivers was a real model.

• Many of you who are a similar age to me will remember continental quilts from Woolworth when you were young.

• Some of the quotes Johnny impresses the women with are real, from books such as Jane Eyre.

And the catchphrase Johnny can’t help but repeat, “Always leave them smiling” - I didn’t make it up, but I chose it especially for him.

Johnny is a bad boy with many faults - but wants people to like him, which is why he always jokes and tries to please. I kinda warmed to him by the time I finished writing. He became very real.

I hope you agree…

PS. one last thing - I stole his first job - working in a knicker factory - from an ex of mine who did just that when he left school. And the women on the machines would heckle him every day :-D. In the end, it wasn’t a machinist that seduced him - rather his female boss from the office. We all have a story to tell…

Image by Steve B from Pixabay

Always Leave Them Smiling - Johnny’s Story

‘The wind howled around the corners of the cabin.’

I looked at the cover of the book, “Terror at Bobby’s Lodge.” A trashy horror story. I mean, a well-structured sentence would surely read:

‘The wind whistled through the rafters.’

Laying down in the compact bed of the lorry’s cab, I thought back to my English teacher. He’d encouraged a thirst in me for literature and acting. My family couldn’t have cared less. I should have studied for an English A-level but instead was working at sixteen, in a knicker factory, packing.

Any free time I had was spent at the local amateur dramatics group in Leeds.

But it was at work I discovered my real talent — making women happy. I would get heckled whenever I went to collect the lingerie from the machinists,

“Come on cutie, wanna get your hands on my knickers?”

Initially I blushed, but soon retaliated, “As long as they’re clean, love.”

‘Always leave them smiling.’

Can’t tell you how their faces shone. I possessed the power to give them that moment. But it was Betsy who put a smile on my face. Dropped me a note on my eighteenth birthday to meet her in the car park at lunchtime. Married, twenty-eight, gorgeous full figure. Once at her place, it was trousers down.