Between Two Bridges

Pleased to say that Ringwood have formally announced  publication  my new book ‘Between Two Bridges’. The book can be purchased from any bookshop or directly from the Ringwood site on the link above, it is also available in ebook and paperback from Amazon on this link
Between Two Bridges Amazon
I’ve included a very short extract from the book referring to a bottling plant  in the Gorbals.
This is from Chapter 17. (The photograph doesn’t appear in the book)

 white bg cover

Page 159

They walked about a 100 yards through the Square before they crossed a suspension bridge that Charlie had never noticed before. The river below them was in full spate. Turgid, brown waves tumbled over each over in a mad dash to the estuary and from there to the Atlantic. In the calmer parts, nearer the south bank, the water looked oil-slicked and a thin film of rainbow-colour grease caught Charlie’s eye as he walked across. Not that it bothered him; it appeared no worse than the East River.

distillaryWithin ten minutes they were standing outside a large red brick industrial sized building on the corner of two streets of grey and blackened tenements. Charlie looked up at the corner where the two streets met – Norfolk Street and Warwick Street.
‘Ah! Yes, I get it now, all the streets around here are named after English counties.’

‘Are they?’ said Kenny, ‘can’t say I took much notice. Let’s get to the office, it’s just up here.’
He gave the doorman a cheery wave and raced up the stairs two at a time to the mezzanine that overlooked the packing area.
The plant manager looked harassed.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Denholm, I can’t take you around, I’m up to my neck here. We’re working flat out on your order trying to get it ready and dispatched for tomorrow morning.’
‘Och, don’t worry about us, I’ll just show Charlie around the main hall and we’ll be off.’
For all his worldly experience, Charlie had never seen any kind of manufacturing process in his life. It took him by surprise.
‘I didn’t realise it would be so noisy,’ he shouted to Kenny;
‘This is the worst spot; this is where they fill the bottles with the blended whisky.’
Charlie had already lost his bearings. They had been up several staircases on one side of the building to look at the blending vats and then back down the other side. The noise was deafening as rows of bottles clattered out of one tunnel, then on to a variety of carousels before disappearing again. They came down yet another staircase to a quieter area which turned out to be a labeling unit….



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