Friday, January 28, 2005


"Sir Patrick Beamish ex-chairman of 1922 club,
influential back bencher and grandee. Perhaps
one of the few old school Conservative MPs who is
untarnished by scandal." Said the quote from
the broadsheet I was reading in the British Library

A small picture showed a tall thin man, with piercing
blue eyes and black and white streaked hair. A younger
picture showed him at Oxford arsing about with his
friends. They looked very nice. He looked bored.
A wedding photo of Patrick marrying a young hopeful
looking girl called Catherine, she was all hunched up
in shock and bewilderment-he had serial killer eyes.
Nice touch. No children. Until now.

I phoned the mobile number:
"Patrick Beamish." Said his voice.
Shit-my tongue stuck to my mouth like cheese to
a pizza.
"Hello?" Curt now and inpatient.
I could feel the blood rushing in my ears.
"Hi, um it's Becka." I mumbled.
"I think you must have the wrong number."
"I don't think so, you posted me a letter." I
said quickly.
"I did? Could it be, Rebecca?" His voice caught
with emotion and hope.
"Yeah, Rebecca Martin, but I like to be called Becka."
"Where are you?" He asked.
"I'm not far from Kings Cross." I said.
"Kings Cross?" His voice sounded like he found it
quite offensive.
"I don't live there! I was in the library." I laughed.
"Can you come here? To The House of Commons?"
"Why not? I'll catch the tube."
"I feel quite nervous." He said and laughed (my
laugh, gravelly and deep).
"This feels so strange." I said.
"See you in moment then." He said suddenly and
coldly hanging up in the process.
Did I want this man in my life? I was intrigued-
this was quite new for me. Not knowing how to act
around a man.
Ma had a fucking lot to answer for!
I just could not get over his laugh.


Wednesday, January 26, 2005


I confronted Mother in (my) her flat:
"Take a look at this." I said and thrust the letter
into her impeccably manicured hands.
She squinted at it.
"Put on your glasses for fucksake!" I snapped.
"Do you mind?" She said and placed her Chanel
gold rimmed specs on. She looked like a librarian.
I saw the smallest line crease her forehead.
"What do you want me to say?" She said.
I exploded like a water filled balloon.
"Say! I want you to tell me that it's not true
and that this Tory Cunt is lying." I actually stamped
my feet.
"That Tory cunt is lying." She repeated.
"Really?" I said hopefully.
"It's none of your business! It's part of my
private life." I could see she was shaken though,
it was the way that she made for the drinks
cabinet even though it was only 10.30am.
"Of course it's my business! I thought I knew
who I was! Who I am! Should I meet him?
Do you care if I meet him?" I was hysterically
trying to get a reaction from her.
"Do what you want to do-you always do anyway.
Meet him. He's alright." She conceded.
"Just like that? 'You meet him' like it's a bloody
everyday event! So you are admitting that you knew
this 'Patrick Beamish'?" I squinted at her, but she
turned away and shrugged.
"I'll admit nothing." And she lit a cigarette. Bitch.
As I left I shouted:"You always liked Raine better
then me anyway!"
"Not at all-I just loved her father very much."
I looked at Ma and tears were in her eyes.
"Yeah?" I said angrily:"You had a funny fucking
way of showing it, shagging some politician behind
Dad's back." I sneered showing acres of gum, not
a pretty look at all. Mother laughed.
"Piss off Rebecca go see your MP."
I slammed the door and kicked it on the way out.
Julie the nurse who lived upstairs and in pajamas
opened the window.
"Long time no see Becks! Keep the noise down can't
I waved and walked down the road like Richard
Ashcroft in 'Bittersweet symphony' taking no
prisoners but not jumping over chav bitches cars.
I want my flat back, my man and my life. But do
I want this stranger, this conservative? We'll see-
oh yes.

Sunday, January 23, 2005


So January ticks over like the boring month it is, then out
of the blue and smelling suspiciously expensive a letter
appears in the post. Was it a bill? Not scary enough. Was
it a love letter? Like I even want contact with anyone
anymore! Was it a letter saying I had won a holiday, a
million pounds or a villa in Spain? No it was a small cream
coloured envelope that said on the cover: HOUSE OF
COMMONS. For one wicked second I thought they had
caught up with me for not paying the poll tax in the '80s!
Then I thought it might be a jury service summons, but the
envelope was too small.
Gingerly I opened it like a tiger might jump out or a
deadly dose of bubonic plague might make for my nose.
It's headed paper said RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR
PATRICK BEAMISH MP. It was a short note, hand written
it what is termed as copper plate, it said:

My dear Rebecca,
upon information received recently I thought that
it would be fortuitous for us to meet. I understand
that you know nothing of me and this letter is the
very first contact between us.
I need you to know that firstly I only recently found
out about your birth and it has taken much soul-
searching to contact you. I am your father Rebecca.
I enclose my home telephone and mobile phone numbers
so that you can take the next step and arrange a time
and place for us to meet.
Yours sincerely Patrick Beamish

Oh Lordy! My dad's a Tory MP!!!

Becka Martin?

Thursday, January 20, 2005


After all the excitement reality is a bit of a bummer.
I spent an absolutely quiet Christmas with Sister-Thing
Raine, it was cool being with my nephew though (at least
I had someone to talk to on my level!) But Mother kept
popping over with the lecherous Jasper- groan! She is a
woman with something on her mind. I can feel it. Ma's
brewing away like an old teapot and I don't want any of
it! She keeps staring at me and Raine, pursing her lips
and drumming her fingers like a geriatric Keith Moon.
Time will tell I guess.

In hospital after the siege I decided to visit Justine.
I don't know what I wanted to say to her, ok I did-
(thanks) but it's hard to talk to someone like her
and especially hard to be humble. I found her in a
private room (get her!) sitting up in bed like a china
doll. She looked good, if you squinted really hard
you would swear that she was alive. She was reading
Glamour mag.
"Hello." She murmured, without even looking up.
"You ok?" I said and sat down on her bed, a small
frown creased her forehead. I stood up again. Blast!
What is it with this bitch? I began to pace up and down.
"I mean, you were a heroine! Thanks-ah-thanks a lot!"
Justine looked up.
"Ok." She said.
"Angela?" I asked:"She was fab wasn't she?"
Justine smiled (she actually looked happy!).
"Yeah she was! I've never known anyone so brave."
I nodded:"She's mad about you."
"I know, she's paid for this room, isn't it lovely?" Justine
grinned, ah, now I was back on familiar territory, the
boastful, bragging version of Justine.
"It's just fine, lucky you! I'm in my own room, but it's an
NHS job!" As soon as I said that, something shifted
between us.
"Really? You do surprise me, with all your lover's
and such I thought one of those could have footed the
bill." The small curt smile was enough to make me
want to smother her with a pillow and blow air into her
drip. But it was cool, this was the relationship that we
both understood and felt comfortable with.
Why? You didn't think we were going to be best
buddies did you?!
"You don't change do you girl?" I said with genuine
affection. Justine's frown was just begging for botox.
"Hmm, just before you go I want to tell you something."
I leaned forwards, intrigued. Justine's eyes had the
sheen of spite on them.
"It was about our kisses." She purred.
Oh please God no! I'd forgotten (repressed) all of that!
"Yeah?" I said shiftily.
"I've been thinking about it quite a lot."
"You have?" I felt sick, please no more declarations of
"Well..... your breath stinks!" She snorted with laughter.
"Right, I'll remember to floss." I crept out of that
room shaking my head, un-fucking-believable!

New Year was cool, Ruthie and Alex always know how
to keep the party going. A man- free New Year too,
just us girlies dancing the light fantastic in The Twisted
Gut, it's small dance floor fair worn out with our efforts!
For the first time in a very long while I felt happy,
truly happy in my skin, not relying on anyone else, just
glad to be me.

Alan? Well let us say we are talking. Every night on
the phone at least an hour. Where will it go? Nobody

Back at work I've gone back to my counter Zoey wants
to be happy but it's a bit of a bummer for her really poor
kid. I decided that the PA's position was beyond me
and working with Justine is like working with Freddie
Kruger, every day a nightmare.

So that's some of what has happened and I'm still
here to tell the tale!

Love and Stuff
Becka (bestest)Martin XXX

Sunday, January 16, 2005


When I woke up sometime later in a small room, firstly
I was dismayed to see that I had a drip in my arm. I hate
needles. Secondly the 'silly cow brigade' namely Sister-thing
Raine, Alex and Ruthie were crowding around my bed
making noises like I was going to expire or something!
The worst though had to be MOTHER! Someone, or some
Raine had told her and I thought it was a low down dirty
thing to do when I had been battered and abused
and shot!
Talking of which:"Justine? Did she make it?" I said in
a crabby voice that would probably be my own if I
continued to smoke at the rate I was.
Everyone started to bustle and preen, fluffing my pillows
and kissing me profusely.
"Yes! Yes!" I said impatiently trying to wave them away,
not the best thing to do with only one arm.
"Justine's ok-one of her lungs was buggered but they
are confident enough to think she is going to be alright.
She's sitting up anyway." Said Raine.
Ruthie grinned at me in her impish way:"I saw the
dress you were wearing! Far fucking out! What a tart!"
She squealed with laughter.
Then Alex: "I don't think Grady knew the extent
of what Jeff was doing you know. But I dumped him
anyway! That dress was the worst." She kissed me.
"Not your colour at at."
"That's nice to know, you dumping Grady, not the dress.
What's happening with Jeff ?"
"Arrested, fire arms, attempted manslaughter, kidnapping,
drugs-they were well coked-up!" Said Alex.
"I see-Estelle?"I asked.
"The same, but they think she genuinely is a
bit loopy." Said Raine.
"Well I think this is a shocking way to behave!
The shame of it!" This was Mother, she must have
abstained from the ciggies for all of 10 minutes
and it showed.
"It wasn't Becks fault!" Said Raine angrily:"She
was helping the police."
"That's what I meant! Well, if you are ok then."
Mother kissed me with her pursed dry lips.
"I'll be off, Jasper is waiting in the car park."
I nodded well at least she came, motherly love
indeed from her.
"Skinner?" I said.
"Not much, soliciting, drugs running. I reckon
he will sing like a canary. Can you imagine the
time he would have in jail?" Said Ruth and did
an obscene gesture with her hands that suggested
butt-sex. I winced, he was not all bad.
I started to cry-it had caught up with me, the girl's
fussed and shushed me. It was over, was it worth it?
Pru was already dead, I was nearly there and
Justine escaped being the next Becka-sex-clone.
So maybe it was worth it. Sort of.
A nurse entered and started to shoo everyone away
saying I needed my rest. Couldn't argue there.
The all left noisily, I smiled, at least I had friends.
"Becka." Said a soft male voice.
I looked up into the concerned face of Alan, clutching
the worst bunch of garage flowers and a box of Milk
Tray. "The Nurse says I've got five minutes." He
"You can do a lot in five minutes." I said suggestively.
Alan raised an eye-brow.

Becka Martin

Wednesday, January 12, 2005


"Go Go Go!" Shouted Mickey, everyone was flailing
about, I heard CopGirl screaming at Estelle, people
were scrambling over me and I felt clumsy boots
hit my rib cage. I was more then aware that Justine
was at this stage (completely) dead and not in a jokey
dead-girl sort of way.
"Help me!" I screamed, but it only came out like a
whisper. One of the cops removed his helmet and
started to give Justine mouth-to-mouth, I felt her
weight lift from me and I felt so cold, so alone.
"It's ok Becka, it's finished." Said Mickey, he pulled
me up and cradled me to him, I was propped up
like a scarecrow. Jeff had a nasty cut to his eye-brow
(later I would find out that Mickey had hit him
with his rifle butt). Estelle was a spitting, screaming
dervish. Cop Girl had her hands full there.
Skinner woke up and groaned:
"Let me die!" He says, no one listens.
Angela had a flesh wound, but is ok, she is stroking
Justine's hair and saying:
"Ok my baby, it'll be ok."More to herself then Justine.
"I got her back!" Said the Cop with Justine:"She's
losing a lot of blood though."
"Ambulance's are on the way." Said Mickey:"Sorry
I was late." He whispers to me:"Sharon went into
labour, another girl." He kissed my forehead.
"Good." I said. And it was.
Alex and Grady suddenly arrived with Neck the
Bodyguard looking decidedably put-out.
"What is this mess?" Demanded Grady.
"Are you the proprietor?" Says CopGirl.
Grady looks shifty, he looks at the sex toys,
the blood, me.
"That depends." Then to Jeff:"What is this
nastiness you've brought to my crib?" And loftily
kicks him in the bollocks.
Alex is crying:"She'll be alright? Beck's honey!"
"Fine." I said and the swirly lights in my head take
me to peaceful oblivion.

Becka Martin
p.s check out my links (thanks Etoile and Kaz!)

Saturday, January 08, 2005


Justine kicked Skinner out of the way (as you do to
the prone and perverted) it was that horrible,
panting, 'what's going on behind me' feeling that was
making my stomach lurch. Another gunshot did
not improve matters. Was Angela dead?
We were nearly there, nearly in the darkened
hallway that led back to Thrumz. Could we make it?
Could we fuck!
"Stop now or I'll shoot you in the legs!" Ordered Jeff.
We stopped, we're girlies, we need legs.
Just then Mickey Straw jumped in front of me in
full body armour and a gun. Cop girl was clad the same
and equally well armed, another couple of coppers
were stuck to the wall like those sticky toys you throw.
What a sight! I felt weak with relief but it wasn't over
"Drop the gun Jeffrey !" Shouted Mickey in a Pulp
Fiction kind of way.
"I can't-she's ruined my life! Becka! Becka! Don't you
see we are meant to be together even if you have
to be Justine to make it work."
He said in a voice that gave me the willies.
"Whose she? Who ruined your life?" Asked Cop Girl
Kate (well versed in counselling the lunatic chapter).
"Estelle, Becka, Pru, they are all the bloody same!
Women! Always wanting always needing, what haven't
I given them? They ask too much!"
Jeff sat down and began to sob, big straggly
snotty gulps.
Justine was breathing heavily, she was trying to
support my weight and I wasn't helping much.
"Let the women go-it's over Jeff." Said Mickey.
I watched a bead of sweat roll down his face
and rest on his top lip, he licked it away.
"I don't think so!" Said Jeff and the next second
I was thrown to the floor with Justine on top
of me. It hurt! Oh I was shot! Then I realized
the bullet must have passed through Justine!
And she wasn't moving.
Becka Martin

Thursday, January 06, 2005


"Justine I'm disappointed in you! Why are you
helping this bitch?" Said the Nurse.
"This has all gone too far, it's not funny!" Said
the skinny Angel.
"Who is Justine? I whispered to her.
"I am you fool! Wake up Becka this is serious."
I looked at the colours spinning around the room,
at Justine shivering in her undies. Angela- for it
was her! Sitting on top of Jeff and glaring at
oh my god-Estelle with a gun! Then the true
horror set in, I was wearing a dress with my
arse hanging out the back like the world's
worse rice pudding. For shame!
"You! Fat bitch! Get off of him now!" Barked
"Becka we are going to have to make a run
for it." Whispered Justine.
"Forget it." I hissed back:"I can't feel my legs."
"I'm not moving." Said Angela stubbornly.
"You will!" Snarled Estelle and edged nearer
to Angela."Mr Gun says you will." She said in
a ridiculous child's voice. She was about six
inches from Angela's face, the gun was bristled
around threateningly. I winced.
"Fuck you girlie!" Said Angela and all those
years of yoga must have paid off because for
a large girl she moved suddenly and rapidly
lurching forwards and biting Estelle's wrist,
the one that was holding the gun! A shot was
fired! Next minute Justine was dragging me
along the floor like a ragdoll. Angela was still
not letting go of her prey, her good strong
teeth held Estelle captive who incidently was
shrieking at the top of her voice.
Jeff was using this chance of chaos to edge
out from beneath. He looked crushed and rumpled
-for some reason I found this very funny.
"Stop laughing!" Snapped Justine:"Keep on
We made it as far as the door, how could we
leave Angela like this? But Angela now had
Estelle by the throat and was shaking her
like a Jack Russell with a rabbit. Where was
the gun?
"Going somewhere? Oh I don't think so-not yet."
Said Master Skinner who stood barring our
"Fuck you baldy!" I kneed him as hard as I
could in his valuables, he sank to his knees.
"Prick!" Said Justine and drew back her tiny
fist and decked him. He looked puzzled and
hurt as he crashed to the floor.
I was impressed Justine was not bad.
Becka Martin

Monday, January 03, 2005


"Open your legs wider!" Snarled Jeff, his face hot
and sweaty against mine. The hell I would! This
dildo would make me wider then a turkey carcass
and if he turned it on to vibrate-then what?!
"Stop this Jeff." I pleaded, hell why not? Groveling
is what I do best-next to lying that is, oh and smoking.
"Becka, sweetness, open them NOW!" He hit me
with the back of his hand across my cheek, pop!
Oh yeah he had a ring on which had taken a nice
slice out of my face-the stars were twinkling again, I
could easily have slipped back into apathy and just
let it happen. Is that what Pru did? Just let it
happen, the hell I would! I could taste my own
blood, not unpleasant but rather salty. I wanted
to die with my menthol fags, a pizza and some
lovely hunk stroking my brow. Not like this.
This was so violent and ugly.
Then if God was watching indeed he sent me an
Angel (albeit a very fat one) who flew into the
room like a fury. Behind her was a pale, skinny
Angel without any clothes on....
"What the fuck are you doing to my girl?" Roared
the Angel and THWACK! Hit Jeff very hard in
the mouth with a handbag (did heavenly bodies
carry bags? Anyways....)
"Call the fucking police!" She commanded,
the skinny nude Angel, they both seemed familiar,
bloody odd though!
Jeff grunted, the Angel, for it was her sat down
heavily on his back. He was not going anywhere.
"Get off me you fat bitch!" He hissed, Angel pressed
down harder, I was sure I could hear a rib crack.
I felt the huge sex aid being pulled away, it was
a relief I can tell you even though it had only
entered me by a millimetre.
"Oh dear Becka you are bleeding." Said the nude
Angel:"Come on, we'rd better try to get dressed.
I've found my clothes, but the other's must have
taken yours." I heard her fumbling around.
"Put this on." I was handed an electric blue rubber
dress which had a gaping hole at the back.
Silently, with stars and the occasional muttering
from the fat Angel and Jeff. I pulled on the dress.
"I've called the Police, they put me through
to a Detective Straw-hold on Becka we can make
I however was thoughrily engrossed with the
sudden arrival of a Benny Hill nurse.
"Anybody moves and I'll let you have it!" She
warned. What was it? Was it something I could
"Oh God!" Groaned the skinny Angel who was
dressed in just a bra and pants.
The nurse had in her hand something that looked
like the world's biggest blur.
I tried to focus-impossible.
What is it?" I croaked.
"It's a gun Becka, a big fucked out gun." Said the
skinny one.
Becka Martin