SYLE Publications

Latest Posts

Meeting in the lobby

He met them downstairs in the lobby. He saw them from the stairs, standing together near the door. Patricia was talking animatedly and John, with a smile of tolerance, was listening. He walked more slowly...

Studying a head

Frank said to Smethers: ‘We’ll have to see about having another desk put in. We’re getting another helper. Promotion all round – you can take your tunic along to the tailor straight away.’ Smethers said,...

Judging intelligence

Colonel Druce-Ruck was not very intelligent. He was aware of this, and his attitude towards intelligence in others was markedly ambivalent; he reserved for intelligent people both his greatest detestation and his highest devotion. The...

Creeping upstairs to a lover

‘Darling, I’m so glad you’re here. Dear Di!’ It startled him. ‘You don’t mean that she suggested my staying here for our benefit – with this in mind?’ ‘I think so.’ ‘But have you told...

london bus blackout desire revulsion

A seat in the ghostly dark

The dim blacked-out buses fumbled past. He stood by the kerb, trying to unravel the confusion in his mind. Thoughts of Patricia swung dizzily from pole to pole: of eager desire and the reluctance of...

wartime kissing ATS illicit soldiers uniform

You mustn’t kiss me good night

‘Frank, you mustn’t kiss me good-night.’ ‘Only in the nicest, most fraternal kind of way.’ ‘No, not at all. Remember I’ve got to live here. Two of the girls are from my old training battalion...

He knew that it would fall …

‘Frank, are you in there? The grille …’ He did not answer at once, but finally said: ‘The grille’s broken. You’ll have to jump for it.’ There was relief in Patrick’s voice. ‘Get up and...

Found out!

‘I saw his face just before he went out. Good God, you did, too! How could you possibly … and the worst of it is that I’m certain you had it all planned in advance.’...

After the Revolution

Frank said: ‘I wonder what you’re going to do after the Revolution, Alec?’ He spoke in an ordinary speculative tone. Stansfield spooned up his strawberries. ‘One never thinks about it. You might as well ask...