When time dissolves
And faces melt
The human child
Can lose itself
The breaking world
The beating heart
All come unfurled
And fall apart
When dark lords turn
Their hand to time
Then futures burn
And nothing rhymes

JJ 2023

The Dai and Julia Mysteries are set in a modern day Britain where the Roman Empire still rules…

The Vigiles House occupied the back corner of the Basilica Viriconia so it was not too long a waddle for Julia to get there. She and Edbert were shown into Bryn’s office as he was just setting up a monitor screen on one wall. He looked over as the door opened and addressed the Vigiles officer escorting them in. “Fetch the Domina a comfortable chair, Dougal and a decent spiced tea.”
“No milk,” Julia said quickly as the Vigiles vanished briefly from sight, then returned with a cushioned chair which he placed with a good view of the screen before disappearing through the door again.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Bryn said and pointed to the screen which now showed an interview room with a single occupant. A nervous, scrawny man, dressed in a shabby coat under which could be seen a filthy-looking tunic. “I’ll be in there.”
Julia frowned and was about to ask what this was about, but Bryn had already swept up a folder from his desk and left the office. A short time later they saw him enter the interview room and run through the preliminaries of any interrogation. The man gave his name as Hepple Shalko and kept repeating that he hadn’t done anything wrong and didn’t know anything about nothing at all.
Bryn ignored that and cut to the chase as soon as the preliminaries were done.
“The reason you are here is that you told one of my Vigiles you’d seen a boat being loaded with cargo beside the forest. Do you remember saying that?” “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. I don’t rightly recall now.”
“We both know that you did, Hepple and unless you want to wind up getting accused of being complicit in the abduction of a Roman official, you might want to think very carefully about what it is you remember.”
“But I didn’t have nothing to do with no abduction.”
The scrawny man sounded more confused than upset by the accusation. “You can’t say I did.”
“Oh I can,” Bryn assured him. “I can and I will. And that would earn you a starring role in the main feature in the Arena.”
This time the protests were more voluble and frightened. Bryn sat back and linked his hands behind his head.
“So convince me, Hepple. Tell me what you did see and then maybe I might believe you weren’t involved.”
The redoubtable Dougal returned at that moment with a quite palatable spiced tea. Julia sipped at it as Hepple, prompted along by a persistent, thorough and patient Bryn, unburdened himself of what he had seen. It became clear that Hepple Shalko was a poacher. He had been out checking snares he had set in the forest beside the canal.
“I weren’t so close as I could see for sure but there were four of them, all wearing those face hoods, black ones. They had a boy with them. He was shouting and trying to pull away. That was what had made me go look in the first place. I heard that shout.”
“What was the boy shouting?” Bryn asked.
“Well, I’m not rightly sure.” Hepple looked unhappy.
“I think you are,” Bryn told him, “and it could be important. I need you tell me everything I think is important if we’re going to get you off the hook.”
The scrawny man licked at his lips as if they were too dry.
“It were ‘help’ he were shouting. Just that.”
For a moment Julia felt her heart break at the thought of Felix calling for help and no one being there. No one except this man who had, by his own account, done nothing, gone back to his snares and headed home with an unburdened conscience. The sole reason he had reported it was because when he went to the local taberna one of Bryn’s Vigiles had been in there offering to buy drinks for anyone who had something worthwhile to tell her. Even then he had only said that the boat had been loading cargo. Nothing about the child calling for help. It was only because Bryn had followed up on that and sent people to find Shalko that he was telling them now. Pathetic as he might be, Julia could not forgive him that.
The details came out slowly, along with a vague description of the boat and an eventual admission that there had been two bodies loaded aboard as well. By the end, Julia was gripping into the arms of her chair with fingers like claws. Edbert put a hand on her shoulder as the interview finished.
“You need to keep relaxed. It’s not good for the baby.”
This time she snapped. “If you or anyone else dares to tell me to calm down for the sake of the baby, I will lose my temper completely – which I assure would be much worse for whoever I lose it at than it would for my baby.”
Edbert removed his hand and just looked at her.
She glared back. “You expect me to sit here and hear about Felix calling for help and my husband’s body being…”
Then she was crying and hating herself for doing so. Edbert swept her up in a bear hug and held her close. It didn’t last long and by the time Bryn had come back to the office, she was restored even if probably still a bit puffy-eyed. If he noticed that, Bryn had the good grace and common sense not to comment.

An extract from Dying to be Fathers a Dai and Julia Mystery by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook

An everyday tale of village life and vampires…

“Post-menopausal, wise, calm and risk averse?” Ginny digested the news and grinned wryly. “So I qualify on at least one criterion.”
Agnes, who seemed supremely good at the ‘there, there, never mind’ bits of this conversation, offered a smile of fellow feeling. “You are probably better qualified on all counts than I was when I was Made.”
Em laughed. “You were a dreadful old tart. I was horrified.”
“I still am a dreadful old tart at heart. You’ve just got used to me.”
Ginny gazed from one face to the other. “Just how long have you two been friends?”
“A couple of hundred years, give or take a decade or so.”
Deciding to let that one sit and not think about it right now, Ginny asked the other big question that had been nagging at her ever since she’d seen the vicar become a giant rabbit. A wererabbit, Agnes had said.
 “Given that I have to accept that vampires are real, how many other supernatural beings are more than wild fiction?”
Agnes shrugged. “Most of them. There’s obviously weres and rather a lot of nature spirits. Weres and vampires are natural enemies, so we tend to keep out of each other’s way. And nature spirits are shy. Goblins are a problem if they aren’t regulated as they breed like rabbits and they will eat anything they can catch.”
Caught completely unawares Ginny shook her head. “How do you regulate goblins?”
“There used to be an annual goblin cull, but that got stopped in the last century when we discovered their numbers could be controlled by contraception. Now the females get an annual implant.”
Em looked sternly into Ginny’s face. “Which only leaves elves and fairies.”
Ginny clasped her hands together, her mind full of the flower fairy books she’d adored as a child and the majestic elves of Tolkein she had loved in her teens.
Em made a tutting noise with her tongue behind her teeth. “Never trust a fairy. And if you are ever unfortunate enough to meet an elf, keep your hand on your weapon and don’t take your eyes off the double-dealing little bastard.”
Ginny felt deflated. Was nothing as she had believed it to be? But then she realised she was being told all this for her own protection and sat up straighter. 
“What else do I need to know?”
Agnes picked up the ball. “For now? Not much. Em does the interface between the ‘normal’ community and the local supes, and she will introduce you to the various liaison officers when the occasion allows… Otherwise? Keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth closed.”
“I think I can manage that bit. Do I get a teacher of any sort?”
“Yes. You get a mentor. Strictly speaking it should be Em. But as she is Queen and has far too much to do already, I’ll be deputising for her.”
Ginny felt a good deal of relief, as she was more than a bit intimidated by the formidably elegant and imposing Em, who raised a finger.
“Before Agnes takes you home and bores you to death with vampire lore I have two things to say. The first is a question. How are you fixed financially?”
Ginny felt herself redden, but realised honesty was the only possible policy. “Truthfully not as well as I had hoped. I can probably just about scrape by until I get my old age pension. If I’m careful.”
Em actually smiled, a kindly sort of a smile. “Sadly, vampires don’t get that pension, but the supernatural scheme is far more generous anyway. It’s kind of like unemployment benefits, but they can’t sanction you. The idea is that if we are given a basic level of support we’ll not be tempted to run riot. You qualify immediately and if you email me your bank details I’ll fill in all the forms for you and get it up and running straight away.”
It all sounded so normal and well organised that Ginny found her underlying anxiety at the strangeness of it all receding. She felt warmed by the thought of financial security, and her relief must have shown in her face because Agnes leaned across and gave her a hug. 
“I live very comfortable on the pension.” Ginny glanced at Em and Agnes laughed a big belly laugh. “No. She doesn’t need a pension –  being filthy rich and all that.”
Em sighed. “Thanks Agnes.”
“Better to get it out in the open. Things only fester in the dark.”
“I suppose so. But the second thing I wanted Ginny to understand is that she is now a Sister of our nest.”
Ginny understood this at some basic level of self. The word ‘nest’ suddenly summoned a powerful sense of belonging and she felt a tear run down her face. “Sisterhood being, if I understand it properly, both a duty and a boon.  You have my word that the concerns of the nest are now my concerns.”
Em inclined her head. “And care for your well-being and happiness is the duty and pleasure of your Sisters.”
Ginny felt as if she had received both a blessing and a task and above all it felt, in her heart of hearts, like coming home.

Part Twenty-One of Much Dithering in Little Botheringham by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook, will be here next week.

The bicycle looked somehow wounded as it lay across the path, as if thrown aside with careless cruelty.

There was evidence that something, or someone, had crashed, or been dragged, through the graceful waving foliage that bordered the forest walk. He followed, through the wrecked beauty, with every nerve and sinew braced in case rescue was needed. 

Then he heard the voices, a woman speaking softly and a man’s deep laughter.

“You so surprised me, love.”

He turned back the way he came, smiling ruefully.

When he reached the path, he propped the bicycle against a tree and walked away.

©JaneJago

A dictionary for the bemused by Jane Jago…

Agugust (noun) sometime between July and September when it is stinking hot and the world seems to be populated by toddlers with snotty noses and attitude

Beer mind (noun) the sudden increase in attractiveness of persons of the opposite gender often felt after pint seventeen

Craspid (adverb) of perambulation slightly sideways and with a halting gait. Often caused by one’s chums tying one’s shoelaces together as a jolly jape

Doign (noun) the sound a mattress makes during athletic sexual congress

Ehalth (noun) the persistent notion that your computer hates you

Ekkyskweek (noun) a dead mouse left in your wellington boot by next door’s cat 

Froup (noun) Facebook group populated by people with no friends in the real world

Glaffes (noun) magnifying devices used to spot giraffes and wildebeest in the local park

Humout (verb) the act of running in front of a speeding train with one’s genitalia on display

Interet (noun) stuff on the internet that bores the tits off people

Jubble (noun) possessions found stuffed behind the sofa cushions. Inevitably includes one button battery and a half sucked boiled sweet (hairy)

Lgung (noun) breathing apparatus to be used when one’s other half breaks wind in bed

Migged (verb, past participle) having had one’s possessions stolen in a drive-by conducted by pensioners in powered wheelchairs 

Purcess (verb) of cats – to use feline wiles in order to be fed treats by the gullible 

Shouold (adjective) of an elderly person – shuffling and indecisive, aware of what ought to be happening but wholly unable to force the issue

Tredberr (adjective) of training shoes – having holes in the soles but still looking cool enough to be worn by the young and stupid

Wonter (noun) the season between effing cold and not very cold

Workign (adverb) of mechanical devices, being almost fit for purpose

Disclaimer: all these words are genuine typos defined by Jane Jago. The source of each is withheld to protect the guilty.

He’d been planning it for weeks, deciding what to cook and choosing a day she would be visiting anyway. It was their regular Friday evening wind down for the weekend, chilling with a box set and a bottle of wine. Usually, it was ‘order in pizza’ day, but today it’d be special – his meal, candles, flowers and the ring, of course.

He was just discovering that flower arranging was a lot harder than it looked, when the phone rang. 

“I need to tell you I’m seeing someone else…”

He put a ready meal in the microwave and ate it alone.

E.M. Swift-Hook

Take this exclusive opportunity to consult the wisdom of the mysteriously enigmatic Madam Pendulica…

Aries. 

Aries is the cuddliest of star signs, which makes its affinity to horror very surprising. The Arian reader will gravitate to children’s literature or hardcore scary. Nothing in between. 

Favourite Book

Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris. Creepiness and sheepiness 

Recommended bedtime story for your Aries child

Anything woolly and cuddly. Knitting patterns read slowly ensure peaceful rest. 

Taurus.

Taurean readers are stubbornly fond of maps. Give them an atlas or a big fat fantasy tome and they will be happy for hours.

Favourite Book

They would say Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien, although most of them won’t have bothered to read it all. Closer to the truth would be The Hobbit

Recommended bedtime story for your Taurus child

Print out a route from your home to John o’Groats and read it slowly turn by turn. 

Gemini.

The astrological twins are continue to be a conundrum wrapped in a question. They are fascinated by mystery and contradiction. Never offer a Gemini reader ‘happy ever after’: they don’t believe in it.

Favourite Book

The Fated Sky by E.M. Swift-Hook or, indeed, any of the Fortunes Fools oeuvre. The sheer complexity of the imagination keeps even the Gemini cynic rapt 

Recommended bedtime story for your Gemini child

Purchase a book of mathematical problems and read them out in your most soothing tones. Even Geminis will get so bored they nod off. 

Cancer.

Cancerian readers love a book that comes at them out of left field. They spit upon the ordinary or predictable. What they desire is shell-bursting and psychedelic prose that makes them want to scuttle away and hide. If they ever get to understand a book they abandon it forever.

Favourite Books

Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, and Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, and the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke

Recommended bedtime story for your Cancer child

Nonsense verse, or, failing that, a cookbook that is heavy on crab recipes. They may not sleep, but the little sods will be quiet.

Leo.

Lazy Leo likes an easy read. Nothing challenging is considered. Ever

Favourite Book

The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by CS Lewis. Or any of the Narnia Chronicles. Leos do like to see themselves as the hero 

Recommended bedtime story for your Leo child

It doesn’t matter what you read. Just replace the hero’s name with the name of your small lion and (s)he will fall asleep with a beatific smile.

Virgo.

Virgo readers like tidiness in life – and in literature. For them a book must have a beginning, a middle, and a happy end. Bonuses are awarded for good use of punctuation.

Favourite Book

Anything by Miss Austen or  E.F. Benson’s Lucia series. A little waspishness helps every Virgo reader’s day

Recommended bedtime story for your Virgo child

Anything with a strongly moralistic viewpoint. If you can find a story where the annoyingly prim and creepy child comes out on top so much the better

Libra.

Libran readers like to be puzzled and to pit their wits against both the writer and the antagonist. They get very annoyed by slipshod grammar.

Favourite Book

The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle or any of Agatha Christie’s Jane Marple stories.

Recommended bedtime story for your Libra child

Nothing too trendy or humorous. We recommend reading logic problems. Slowly

Scorpio.

Scorpio readers are intelligent, short-tempered and easily bored. A book has one page to catch the interest of a Scorpio or (s)he is not going to bother. They like complexity of plot and deep meaning to discern.

Favourite Books

His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman or Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse stories. Sweeping fantasy always does it. That or sexy vampires 

Recommended bedtime story for your Scorpio child

Just read them whatever soft porn their father is currently into. They will feel special and slightly smug, and they might even go to sleep 

Sagittarius.

Sagittarian readers are hard to please, being intelligent, principled, and a tad dour. Do not expect a Sagittarius to read erotica with anything other than a moue of distaste. They do, however, like evil to get a good thrashing.

Favourite Books

The Redwall Chronicles by Brian Jacques

Recommended bedtime story for your Sagittarius child

The lives of saints and martyrs have the right moralistic and self-satisfied tone. Practice reading unemotionally

Capricorn.

Amiable, clever and organised. Capricorn tends not to read fiction. They like logic, explanation, and hard facts. And diagrams…

Favourite Books

Instruction manuals. Yes. Capricorn is the sign that reads the instructions first!

Recommended bedtime story for your Capricorn child

Do not ever read to Capricorn children. They are far too bright, and they are perfectionists. Be warned. Having your pronunciation corrected by a toddler is a chastening experience 

Aquarius.

Most Aquarian’s will tell you they are too busy to read. Then they will sneak off somewhere with a favourite book and be gone for hours. They like light reading, with defined characters. 

Favourite Book 

Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome or The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame. Or anything about water….

Recommended bedtime story for your Aquarius child

Purchase a copy of their business statistics from your local water company. They will be enthralled.

Pisces.

There are two kinds of Pisces readers. Those who like a nice light romance or warm children’s tales. And those who want psychological horror of the most harrowing description. We are looking at Lovecraft or Barbara Cartland. Often in the same person. Odd…

Favourite Book 

The complete HP Lovecraft or The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Anderson or Bolded Hearts by Jane Jago. Nothing between the two poles will do

Recommended bedtime story for your Pisces child

There is no perfect Pisces story. The best you can do is read from a random book, and if the child argues read more loudly.

Madame Pendulica predicts she will return…

After the equinox, before Halloween
October falls in that strange place between
And has become a time that means much to me
After the equinox, before Halloween.

The last month of long days before the clocks change
The last month for warm sunshine afore colder ways
The high month of autumn and her golden sheen
After the equinox, before Halloween.

But for me October holds some special glow
For of all the people I have come to know
October is when the birthdays seem to be
Of those friends I most cherish, who mean most to me.

So I think there’s a magic in October’s span
Something quite precious that makes me a huge fan
Of that enchanted time that falls in between
After the equinox, before Halloween.

E.M. Swift-Hook

The Dai and Julia Mysteries are set in a modern day Britain where the Roman Empire still rules…

They were having a fine day out on the hills. Felix had mastered the rudiments of riding quickly and today he was managing to control his stubborn little mount so well that Caudinus had abandoned the leading rein. Having eaten the lunch Cookie packed for them, Felix was running around playing at being a legionary soldier whilst his father and Dai shared a half-bottle of local wine and the ponies chomped contentedly at the grass nearby.
The land here was bleak but beautiful, with ridges of rock, mantled in greenery, jutting into the sky and limiting the horizon from roughly rolling hills. A brisk breeze ruffled hair, lifting the heat of an unclouded sun and somewhere above them a bird keened as it traced an invisible circle overhead. Scant sign of human habitation disturbed Dai’s view, aside from the odd isolated dwelling, little more than drystone shacks with crude slating culled from local stone where crofter families lived. Their sheep, made small by distance were puffs of grey, like dandelion seed heads, against the scrub. This was the hinterland of Britannia, never one of the richer or more developed provinces, at its most primal.
“I’m sorry to spoil the day.” Caudinus voice broke into Dai’s thoughts. “But this wasn’t only about taking Felix for a riding lesson.”
Dai was not too surprised. He had caught the note of significance in the older man’s voice when he had called yesterday suggesting he brought his family over to Villa Papaverus and that the three of them should go for a ride.
“So what’s up?”
Caudinus shifted his position on the rough wool blanket they had thrown over the grass and thistles.
“I’m not sure it is anything, but it might be and I didn’t want to worry Cariad or Julia so this seemed the best way we could talk without either of them realising we had been.”
“I can see that,” Dai agreed. The last thing he would want for Julia, so close to her due date now, was anything to worry about. “What’s the problem?”
“I have had a couple of anonymous threats delivered to my admin staff in the last few days. Unpleasant things – one found their cat mutilated and a message attached to it saying they should tell me to back the right people. Then night before last another was jumped by two masked men and told to tell me that I shouldn’t get in the way of progress.” He broke off. “I might even have some idea who might be involved. A man called Aled Blaenau. He came to see me at the end of last month on behalf of some clients of his, he said. He was hinting heavily that he would be willing to bribe me to nod through a substantial transaction on some potentially contaminated land for his backers. He never actually came out and said so, of course, or I’d have nailed him for it and he denied that was what he meant when I threw it back in his face. I sent him away in no doubt that his efforts were more likely to be counter-productive than anything. At the time I thought he was just a lobbyist who had been over enthusiastic, but now…”
“You didn’t report any of this to Bryn?”
Caudinus shook his head. “I wanted to bring it to you rather than do anything official. As I said, I don’t want our families to become alarmed.”
The sunny day seemed to grow darker and Dai felt a cloud pass over his soul.
“Alright I’ll get on it soon as I’m back in work tomorrow. Nothing official until we have something solid to go on.”
Caudinus nodded and got to his feet.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. But now we’d best get these ponies back home.”
A few minutes later they began heading back to the farm. Their easiest way led through a small wood of stunted oaks and ash trees and that was when it happened. Dai vaguely recalled something stinging his neck and as he lifted a hand to swat it away, the world had turned upside down and slid out of sight into a dark tunnel.

An extract from Dying to be Fathers a Dai and Julia Mystery by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook

An everyday tale of village life and vampires…

Before Ginny could ask her next question there were footsteps on the spiral staircase and Agnes appeared carrying a tray, preceded by the nutty perfume of freshly ground and filtered coffee.
“Sorry for the slight delay,” she said brightly as she handed round the cups, I had to fend off Petunia.” She sat down and lifted her mug in a sort of toast to Ginny. “They all can’t wait to meet you.”
“They?”
“Our Sisters. The Steering Committee of Little Botheringham Ladies Association.” Agnes explained. “That’s me, Agnes, great-great granny and gossip. Lilian who you sat next to at the LA meeting.”
Agnes paused for breath, and Ginny dredged up the memory of a skinny woman with a seamed face and fascinating dreadlocks.
Agnes ploughed on. “Petunia who is a veterinary nurse and who held you down while Em Fed you. Ellen, who is bit of a leftie and a very strident lesbian – especially when she has been drinking. Jamelia, who is quiet, incredibly clever and beautiful. And of course Em who is Queen of our nest.”
Em made a depreciating gesture.
“It really isn’t what you might think. Just the traditional title given to whoever in a vampire community is daft enough to step up to the plate and try and organise things. It’s a very hands-on kind of leadership role. Like most such things, you wind up having to do much of what needs doing yourself.”
“And Em is very good at doing things,” Agnes said. “And at organising the rest of us, which in the case of most of our little community is very like herding goldfish.”
“Don’t you mean cats?”
Agnes grinned. “You tell me – after you’ve met the others.”
Ginny looked between the two women.
“So the Ladies Association is run by vampires?”
“Oh yes. We work very hard to look after the village.”
Ginny thought of the bench outside the village shop and the fundraising for a new minibus for the local primary – and the campaign she’d heard about which had kept the school open. All organised by the Ladies Association.
“You do seem to be very involved in village life.”
Em’s mouth sculpted the hint of a grin.
“You could say that.”
“And a lot of thankless work it is too,” Agnes put in. “I sometimes wonder why we bother with some of the ingratiates.”
“It can be hard work,” Em agreed and took a drink of her coffee.
“So why do you do it?”
Both the women looked at her as if she was asking something that had the most obvious answer in the world.
“This is our home,” Em said gently. “If we didn’t look after it before long it’d be nothing more than a hollowed out dormitory for the wealthy with a sprinkling of second homes and holiday rentals.”
“Like most of the other villages around here,” Agnes added. “Much Botheringham is more like an English village theme park than a real community, and Nether Botheringham has become little more than a suburb of Bedchester and half of that was taken over by an industrial estate.”
Ginny tried to fit the idea of helpful conservationism into her concept of a vampire and what vampires did. And failed. She pushed it aside as something else occurred.
“So about vampires. Are there a lot around?”
“Not that many nowadays.”
“There used to be more?”
“Going back a couple of centuries and some, yes,” Agnes told her. “Too many, in fact. And in the increasing glare of science and mass communication it was becoming harder and harder to keep hidden from humanity. So we had to make some changes within our community. Establish certain norms.”
Agnes sipped her coffee and looked over at Em, who gave a small shrug.
“We just had to make sure we eliminated the troublemakers. It was very obvious that those who caused the most problems were those who had been transformed when young. They still had all the folly and exuberance of youth and never really grew out of it. Imagine a four-hundred year-old with ongoing teenage angst.”
Ginny did, and her eyes widened as Em went on talking.
“And the men were the worst. Vampirism boosts testosterone levels to the point where two could barely be in a room together without having to fight it out to decide who was the ‘alpha’.”
“So that explains all the ravishing young women vampires in the stories and the ravishing of young women by vampires, the overdramatic dress sense and so forth.”
Both Agnes and Em were nodding.
“So we made a new rule. One that would exclude all the most unstable elements from the vampire community. We wanted people who were rational, controlled, wise and careful.”
Ginny wondered which of those descriptors she could actually lay claim to.
“That must be a bit difficult. How do you find such paragons?”
“That was easy,” Agnes said. “The only people who can be made into vampires nowadays are post-menopausal women.”

Part Twenty of Much Dithering in Little Botheringham by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook, will be here next week.