
Wilkes, on the other hand, had the reactions of his family, friends and colleagues to consider. He was certain all the people that mattered would quickly get over the shock of discovering his sexuality and accept it, but he still couldn’t shake the worry that it would adversely affect his career. His immediate superior, a homophobic old bastard by the name of Major Graham Hunter, often made his life unpleasant as it was, and that was without knowing Wilkes batted for the other side.
Each song on the radio that finished signalled another bunch of miles less that he had to travel before he reached his destination. So, although each respective tune wasn’t necessarily better than the last, it was worthier of celebration. Before long, Wilkes exited the M3 and passed through the fashionable, expensive areas west of London—Twickenham, Richmond, Battersea. Then Clapham, and a turn towards the river eventually brought him into Stockwell.
Get your copy of Native Tongue here: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/native-tongue/
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Happy Reading,
Lucy x


Hi everyone,
Hi everyone,
Isaac seated himself at the table in the corner, nodding and exchanging greetings with the villagers he passed on the way across the room, relieved that none of them were feeling talkative or wanting to discuss health issues. He wanted the atmosphere of the pub and the sense of not being alone, without feeling inclined to make polite conversation. Perhaps he was giving off that vibe too, because he was normally happy to chat away with fellow villagers about everything and nothing, yet nobody approached his table.

Hi everyone,
For those of you that don’t know, I’m part of a group of writers called 
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