West Berkshire Writers

See Showcase for the latest novel by Tim Jarvis, The Woman in the Wings, and a poem by Caroline ffrench-Blake about her dog Biscuit

We are a small group of local writers who meet in Newbury. The group covers a wide range of writing styles and genres, including poetry, prose, travel writing, local history, drama, short stories and novels.

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The writing group has been meeting in Newbury regularly for over twenty years, and now we meet every available Friday morning between 11.00 am and midday in the Kennet and Avon Canal Stone Building on Newbury Wharf. For further information email [email protected].

R I P : Richard Pelham Long

26th July 1941 - 14th September 2023

Cruel Perfume by Richard Long who joined the group in 1984

Suzi was frying bats again. The tendrils of their perfume lapped ever higher through the house. The other inhabitants of the house stirred restlessly in their sleep. None could tell if it was the smell or the sound that disturbed them. The mastiff yawned untidily and fell to dreaming of wild chases through summer skies.

Suzi caught her bats on moonlit nights. She held a fifteen foot pole with a black butterfly net attached. Her feet fell silently as she strode across dewy lawns. Shoeless and alone she harmonized with nature. On cold nights she uttered ecstatic cries as the hoar frost crumbled underfoot. All the while she waved the pole to and fro.

She seldom caught bats in the net. But its fluttering bemused many and they fell, minds curdled, to the grass. She picked them up where they lay and tossed them lightly into a pannier slung on her back. There they waited for any fate that might befall them. Her jaunts seldom lasted more than half an hour. So she was back in the house by three a.m.

There she tipped the bats into a large frying pan, alive and with dripping. They slowly fried, their stomachs swelling and popping, releasing the cruel perfume of bat death. It crept insidiously. At four a.m. the meal was ready. Suzi sped from floor to floor, ringing a hand bell and shouting, ‘It’s on the table!’ The household awoke and fell delightedly on the furry bubble and squeak. Bon appetite, mes enfants.

It’s A Gift by Richard Long

Gifts always come with strings attached. Think of the greatest gift of all, Life itself, without which no other gift can be appreciated. Life comes with a warrant, not a warranty. A death warrant. Some gift, some finale. There is no such thing as a free lunch. Life’s a con. No sooner are you enjoying Life as a child than you encounter death in some form. Then the awful thought that someday it will happen to you slowly sinks into your consciousness. Like Life all gifts perish. All but one.

There is one gift that asks neither gratitude nor gainful use. It is freely given without thought of return. Time cannot corrupt it, nor death diminish it. It knows no boundaries and cares about every detail. It comes in abundant quantity or not at all. The gift is love. Lunches have to be paid for, but love, real love, is free of cost. It is free to the giver, free to the loved. Love is not a con. Death merely sets a seal on it.

© Richard Long

This piece was read at Richard's funeral in St Nicolas' Church, Newbury 19th October 2023

IN MEMORIAM JEAN READ 1940-2020
Jean was born in the Halfway Inn, Welford on 10th August 1940. She attended Craven School, Newbury run by Katherine Sparrow after which she gained a place in Newbury County Girl’s Grammar School - now St Bart’s.

On leaving school Jean chose the nursing profession. Principally at Royal Berkshire Hospital, Reading with a year’s midwifery training at St Mary’s Hospital, Portsmouth.

She was always full of praise for the education she received from Mrs Sparrow and this was the basis for her love of history, English language and creative writing. Together with Robin, the husband she married in 1967, many journeys were made across the country, he with his camera, she with her note book.

Jean joined West Berkshire Writers, Newbury’s foremost writing group, on a bitterly cold February night in 2004 keeping scarf, gloves and overcoat firmly in place. It was thought at the time this would be her first and last visit. How wrong can you be? She became assistant co-ordinator and made valuable contributions to the running of the group, hosting evenings and all the while researching this book.

Jean died on 29th February 2020 in the hospital at which she had spent most of her working life, and she had spent well over half that life in the parish of Speen giving her the credentials to chronicle its story and celebrate its place of worship.