(A short foreword before you read on....)

This story was written way back when the fashion was all about short miniskirts, (or even shorter), London was swinging, (and so were hips), the West End was awash with coffee bars, discotheques, jazz clubs and nightclubs, and Soho teemed with people thronging the streets out to enjoy themselves on balmy summer evenings. (And nights.)   And you could actually park your car on some streets,  free!

Back when forensic and CSI personnel were known as SOCOs  (scene of crime officers), when phone boxes usually worked, and London’s Victoria Station still looked like a magnificent masterpiece of  architecture and  engineering;  there actually was a clock tower on the concourse, and road traffic volume was still light enough to allow vehicles to make decent progress at some speed when being chased, either by the police or the bad guys.

Aaah!  The good old days…….

Oh. And there were no mobile phones.

Welcome back to the Swinging Sixties.....

Two ordinary people out for an evening's entertainment are plunged into an adventure     involving murder, secret papers, stolen jewellery, kidnapping, and a car chase through the streets of London.

                                            And

                                                                      A sneak peek into Desperate Measures

He moved away and leaned against the wall opposite Marcia where they waited for several minutes. Presently the footsteps came back.

            “You keep away from this door!” Slaney shouted. “You already deserve a knuckle sandwich for calling me names! Don’t give me another excuse!”

            “Don’t worry,” Barry called back. “We’re right across the other side.”

He waved urgently at the girl and she wriggled on her hands and bottom until she was next to him, and opposite the door. A key could be heard grating in the lock and the door opened slowly. Slaney appeared, holding his gun in one hand and a large jug and a glass in the other. These he set down on the floor just inside the door. He straightened up and glared at Barry.

            “The boss says yer can ‘ave some food. I’ll bring it yer in about ten minutes.” He backed out of the door, then stopped and poked his head inside again.

            “And don’t think yer can get up to any tricks with that!” He nodded at the jug and retreated, locking the door once more.

            Barry became galvanised into action. He strode over to the light, issuing staccato instructions to Marcia as he pulled the comb and keys from his pocket.

“Belt off! Quick! Then get out your lighter and come over here.”

He fumbled with his right hand in the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small nailfile.

 A short note about the story from the author...

That was only a short sample of the suspense and action in Desperate Measures.

Although set in the sixties the story is exciting throughout, but this adventure, of course, could not have unfolded the way it did in this modern day and age. 

Door locks are now a good deal more secure, road traffic wouldn't permit a chase through South London, and  certainly not anywhere near Victoria Station, which has changed almost out of  all recognition. The clock tower has long gone, barriers have been replaced by electronic gates, and the platforms and concourse are dotted with  fast food outlets and vending machines. And there are no more night trains to the Continent; only to the ports, and your continental train awaits on the other side of the water.

The police would no longer be so accommodating towards a "hero"; - in fact he would probably be arrested  as a possible suspect complicit in the murders, or at the very least assisting an offender. Government communications are now electronic, with multiple layers of security and encryption. And of course, everyone has a mobile phone nowadays, so no need to find a callbox.

Back in the day, you actually drove a car, - not a mobile electronic computer as you do today, which most likely controls more of the functions in the vehicle than the driver does.

And that's not to mention the hundreds of cameras adorning every available square inch of wall in every major city.

The West End is still as lively as ever, but  discotheques are long gone. There are still a few jazz and nightclubs;- but you probably need a mortgage to be a member. And it's a much more dangerous place now for those enjoying its amenities.

And as for parking on a London street, - if you can afford the cost, which can tot up to close to the price of a full tank of fuel, - first you have to find a space.

Good luck with that.

Aaah!  The good old days....

Sadly, say goodbye to the Swinging Sixties….

Reviews of Desperate Measures

Evelin wrote:- I read your story Desperate Measures and I really liked it !

Aleena wrote:- You'll get hooked right away whether it's the characters, the vibe, or the ideas it explores. It's that rare kind of story that's both fun and thoughtful, and it really stays with you. No matter your taste there's something here that'll catch your attention.