Creative Writing Tuition Bolton: Bricks and Mortar-Or The Demolition of Horwich Leisure Centre!

The demolition of Horwich Leisure Centre inspired this brief sketch. I was fascinated by the way that the new Centre coexisted with the old, as uneasy mirrors of each other, until one day, not so long ago, the bull-dozers moved in.  And I wondered what memories the old centre might store, as if the spirits of the place were seeking refuge in their retreat. And then I wondered who might come looking for the spirits of the place and what their intention might be.

 

As an English Tutor, I am always encouraging students to take a note-book wherever they go. Observing our immediate world, and its changes can inspire thoughts that alter our complacent attitudes to the everyday. When I walked my dogs each day, the progressive dismantling of Horwich Leisure Centre felt fascinating as the once familiar was strippped away. 

Bricks and Mortar.

The morning after they began the demolition, she came to look at the centre with her dog. She always had to wait a day before she could embark on anything. Her training emphasised the importance of timing. You must Wait for the masonry to become agitated, the textbook said. Decoration must be allowed to Leak everything from Before. The Befores, the textbook called them after that first mention. She naturally corrected the capitalization. Textbook writers were not experts. They were sentimental amateurs. The befores must be allowed to breathe. Avoid masculine haste. She smiled at the assumption that the trainees were male. She was the best at this job and yet nobody knew who she was. She refused their invitations, their prizes. Anonymity suited her. She liked to win. And today, she could see right through the centre’s heart. They had hollowed out the reception area and the small gym and if she stood on her toes she could see right the way through to the road on the other side. This was better than she hoped. The disruption would have startled any souls into the remaining rooms for sanctuary: cramped conditions now for the most headstrong spirits, solace for the shy. They needed someone like her, despite what they might feel about her intrusion.

She bent down and stroked her companion, priming him for what was about to happen. Her dog, Brimstone always accompanied her on these adventures. Indeed without Brim everything and everyone would remain lost. There was certainly no chance that the befores would make themselves known. And time had been running out for the building’s secrets since the first bulldozer was unloaded from the company’s long lorry. She read the red and white sign hooked onto the metal fencing. ‘Rayner’s Demolition, a family Company since 1976.’ Rot. She spat on her hand on rubbed saliva over the date. It vanished. She did the same to the word ‘family. Time was such a lie. So was loyalty.

There were three yellow machines for this demolition job. From a distance they looked like neon pterodactyls. Up close they seemed all gaping angles and clawing incisors, scavenging for food amongst the bricks, baying for more rubble. Ignorant monsters. Good job she was here. She stroked Brimstone again. A builder wearing a badge that said PAUL walked over and nodded at Brimstone.
‘Big lad you’ve got there.’.
Brimstone lifted his head just to show the full extent of his size.
‘Brindle giant. How old? ‘
‘I don’t know said the woman. He’s a rescue. Probably quite ancient.’ (She never lied).
‘Brimstone is a funny name for a pet.’
‘He came with it.’
The builder shrugged. She knew something about her dog bothered him. Something about the pair of them bothered him.
The woman stared back at him.
That was it. Differently coloured eyes as if each eye was thinking its very own thoughts… ‘See you around, maybe?’
The woman clicked her tongue and the dog sat down. She fed him something, then slowly winked at the man with her left eye. ‘Nil Desperandum’ she whispered and everything went white in his head.