Urban Creep | Short Story

Fiction 2 Minutes

It is remarkably difficult to manage a discreet business in modern Britain. Gone are the days of bootlegged whisky, of smothered lanterns and boat keels grinding across beach pebbles. When clandestine activity is not made impossible by CCTV, urban creep, and light pollution it is impinged upon by idiots walking their dogs or morons waving mobile phones. Those of us who wish to avoid attention have had to diversify.

I would never have been able to use these waterways a hundred and fifty years ago. They were to Victorians what motorways are to millennials – arterial highways. Canals would have heaved with coke, coal, and clay. Flat caps would have shielded workers’ eyes from the sun, whilst blinkers kept horses’ attention on the towpath.

Urban Creep

Things are different now. By day the likes of Trent and Mersey, Cannock Extension, and Shropshire Union thrum with tourist traffic. They are the playground of the lower middle-class holiday maker, the habitat of the kitsch stag party. By night, though…

Longboats are not permitted to sail after dark. After the last lock key has been taken below and the last mooring rope tightened, the darkening waterway becomes a lure for the lonely, a refuge for the desperate. It is a rare honest soul found walking the towpaths after nightfall. The canal is where society chooses to dispose of those it would rather not see – the addicts, the homeless, the beaten. Their wariness of others is what makes these waterways perfect for my craft. The guttural chunter of my longboat might attract the occasional glance from someone huddled underneath a motorway flyover, but anyone sleeping near the dark, still water knows better than to interfere in the night-time economy.

'GOLDEN LARK' AT MAESBURY

Admittedly, it lacks the dramatic backdrop of my last place of work – the Staffordshire is not the Styx. Nevertheless, a seat on the back of a narrowboat is undeniably comfier than punting in a ferry all day. My cloak doesn’t get wet at the bottom, I’ve got shelter when the weather turns, and a longboat holds a hell of a lot more souls than my glorified canoe did. My clients perhaps receive less of a personal service than they did in days of old, but it’s not as though there’s a lot of competition in this market.

The sky is beginning to lighten. It is time I moored up before continuing my journey tonight. There is an old poacher on the bank ahead, cold from a night’s illicit fishing. He moves as though to object as I put the engine to idle and draw up next to the bank. Eyes widen as he sees the thin, white hand on the tiller, and he thinks better of the confrontation. The man gathers his fishing gear and walks away along the towpath without looking back – he knows his master.

A wooden groan issues from the hull of the narrowboat as I go below. Time to rest up.

***Thanks for reading, folks. Photo credits to Mat Fascione at https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/5358217 and Stephen McKay at https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1002633***

Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Near to the Knuckle, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, and Shooter magazine. He is an absentee member of the Glasgow Writers Group, a PhD student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father.

Not necessarily in that order

https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0

Published by matthewjrichardson

PhD student and short story author. Published in Gold Dust, Literally Stories, Near to the Knuckle, Soft Cartel, Penny Shorts, and Shooter.

Published

21 thoughts on “Urban Creep | Short Story”

      1. For these spookier short stories (mystery / suspense etc) do you like using one particular inspiration for each character’s POV and build from that single strand, or bring a few different elements together each time and see how they work?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. This one was a few different elements. I’d been thinking about a Greek gods one for a while, then the canal theme popped up and I combined the two. What about you Tom? Do yours all spring from characters or us there some mise-en-scene as inspiration?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Cool! Sounds like an interesting way of weaving themes together. I tend to revisit old rough drafts I’ve done and try bringing in a new character to spice them up (e.g. the River Rats fanfic originally was just general worldbuilding, then I focussed on one POV to add detail). Or the newest one I’ve done (Peaceable Skills) – it was just a general hitman-on-the-run at first, then I thought about him learning new skills in a CPR class. Would love to hear your thoughts on it! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Oooh. Hades on a narrowboat. I like the spooky feeling and the reminder to live well.

    Loved the imagery. Reminded me of life by the river Cam, where there were many narrowboats, and many types of people living along its banks.

    Great flash story. Great photos too. What inspired you to write this one?

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Thanks Nadine. We used to go on narrowboat holidays when we were kids and it always used to strike me that, at the front of the boat, there was almost no engine sound whatsoever. It was almost a surreal experience seemingly floating along the canal, and it always reminded me of Charon and his boat! Weird the things that stay with you and eventually end up as short stories!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Oh wow! What a beautiful real-life vignette, and yes, example of the way memories rise up through consciousness in creativity. Charon, so that was the ferryman’s name… and you have given him a narrowboat instead of a punt, to explain the silence of the narrowboat engine… and his keeping up with modern times. You make him seem quite a cosy and cavalier canal companion. :)) I re-read this now and appreciate it even more:

        “Nevertheless, a seat on the back of a narrowboat is undeniably comfier than punting in a ferry all day. My cloak doesn’t get wet at the bottom, I’ve got shelter when the weather turns, and a longboat holds a hell of a lot more souls than my glorified canoe did. My clients perhaps receive less of a personal service than they did in days of old, but it’s not as though there’s a lot of competition in this market.” 🙌👏

        — “a *hell* of a lot more souls” — 😄👌

        Liked by 2 people

  5. Oh, I love this! Nice to see Charon can modernise, make his own ‘life’ easier. I ike your descriptions of the night time waterways, hoe they’re shunned by all but the dodgiest and lowliest of people. Grand stuff, Matthew

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
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