Browsing articles from "January, 2013"

Interview with Crime Author Bob Bridgestock – Could have been the only butcher with exploding pork pies?

Bob, my husband, my co-author, my best friend Bob Bridgestock. This interview is probably one of the most difficult that I have done. Why? Because I know him so well – well at least he can’t fib! ;-) I know what makes him tick; well you would after twenty years of marriage wouldn’t you? Loving him as I do I wanted to help Dylan readers get to know him too for in ‘getting to know’ Bob you will have the basis of our character DI Jack Dylan. One of the hardest things to do as a couple who write together, for me anyway, has been learning to tease out of Bob his deep seated emotions. Our readers are all aware, or I think they are now, that Dylan is loosely based on Bob and Jen on me – and I reiterate ‘loosely’!  Primarily this is so that we can give you the thoughts, feelings and sights from our experience of time within the police force and as husband and wife. Bob’s work meant that he dealt with man’s inhumanity to man daily from behind the ‘mask of the detective’ to get him to drop that mask has been very hard. ‘Let your feelings get in the way at a major incident scene and subsequently the investigation and you’re no good to the team,’ he says.

  Bob at the scene of a murder.

 Bob infront of the world media.

So when it came to writing the feelings of Dylan for our novels they had to be, sometimes unwillingly brought to the fore. We have laughed out loud, cried and reminisced about those who are no longer with us on our pathway to becoming authors and we continue to do so with every novel we write. Obviously Dylan and Jen’s story is not ‘our lives’, we add the drama, but the stories are written from the head and our hearts of ones who have been there and from Bob’s point of view seen it all.


Bob Bridgestock

Bob, you joined the police force when yow were 21yrs old but what were you doing before that?

I passed my 11+ and went to Grammar School, excelling only in running the mile and the half mile events and representing the school in the cross country though. I suffered badly all through primary school with severe migraines and as a youngster regularly passed out – much to the annoyance of my teachers. The Doctor’s explanation for this, at the time, was no treatment – I’d grow out of it! Fortunately I did. I left school at the age of 15, prior to taking any exams. The reason being I’d worked in a local butchers shop on a Saturday and was offered a five-year apprenticeship which at that time was not to be missed. I took up the offer and five years later became a fully qualified butcher. By this time I had started smoking and the running had stopped. The smoking however, didn’t stop until a lot later in life when I met Carol.

Back then you could buy one cigarette from the shop immediately outside the school gates. I wonder what profit they made on a packet of 20? They certainly sold a lot and no doubt fuelled my generations addiction.

 Bob as a youngster! His first involvement with the police was when his brother took detornators from a trainline. Admitting his crime to his Dad and giving one of them to Bob, telling him that it was a watch, the police came to get him out of school. Bob had thrown it away – he wasn’t that stupid to think it was a time piece even at the age of seven. This ended with a trip in a police car to find it and a clip around the ear from the police officer and his Dad – if only police officers still had that power today!

From a Butcher to  Policeman – quite a contrast. How did that happen then?

Yes it is, but having enjoyed the work and qualified as a butcher, the job didn’t give me the work satisfaction I was looking for. I was bored and skint. I guess a way forward would have been to start my own business, but loans at that time weren’t readily available, so I decided it was time for a change.

However, during my Butcher training came my second ‘run in’ with the police. One evening as I was travelling home on a bus from college, the bus stopped. An officer got on and pointed to me. ‘You, off,’ he demanded. The bus went on it’s way. Is that blood on that smock under your arm?’ asked the police officer. Bob nodded. ‘Yes, officer.’ he said. ‘Why? How’d it get there?’ ’Well the smock’s a butchers so I guess I thought that gave it away?’ said Bob. ‘Less of your cheek,’ said the officer giving him a clip around the ear. ‘Remember to put it in a plastic bag next time.’ Not only had he spent all the money Bob had on his bus fare but he had to walk the six miles home.  

I got a job at a local Dyeworks, tripling my wage overnight, but after sporting whatever colour we were using at the time as my hair colour for two years, I was more than ready to move on…

 A proud officer in uniform.

So the police service. The words on your long service certificate shows that you did thirty years of service retiring thereafter after having a distinguished and exemplary career during which you received numerous awards and commendation for outstanding work from high court judges to chief constables. What perhaps a lot of people don’t know is that you were also a hostage negotiator for terrorism, kidnap, extortion and suicide intervention. You were always busy but do you have any highs and lows in that job that you can tell us about that stand out for you during that time?

 Bob in his ‘Sweeney’ CID days.

I worked as a detective at every rank, learning my trade from the best. Ultimately I became ‘the’ man in charge of major investigations. A job I set my heart on when entering the Criminal Investigation Department.

The high and low I guess is that I am lucky to have survived the job. It’s not easy being a police officer in any era. I was fortunate.  I attended hospital on quite a few occasions after being attacked but thankfully I was not disabled or killed like some of my colleagues.

It makes me sad that my parents didn’t live beyond their sixtieth birthday to see how I turned out and the results I had in the major incidents I took charge of in the latter years of my service. In the last three years alone I took charge of twenty six murder enquiries, twenty four major incidents, which included drive by shootings, attempt murders, rapes etc. over fifty suspicious deaths and numerous sexual assaults. The only reason I know these figures is that the four Senior Investigating Officers, of which I was one of in the fourth largest police force in England, had to complete monthly returns for Headquarters to account for our working hours. The accounting was the last thing we all needed as the figures did show we were overworked, overwhelmed and the last thing we needed was further stress by having to account for our working hours. Personally the amount of work I was doing was brought home to me the day I was giving evidence in three different murder trials, on the same date, in the same Crown Court. Even the  high court judges remarked on it.

You’ve had an interesting and demanding career. Was writing something that you always intended to do when you retired?

I get asked that question all the time. If I’d kept notes throughout my career in readiness to start writing I’d never have got any work done. The answer to that question is a most definite no.  Even if I had, had the foresight I wouldn’t have had the time. When a job breaks you run with it and that means 24/7 and when its relatively quiet their is the paperwork, the knocking on doors for statements. The court cases. It was suggested that I write a factual novel about the murders I took charge of in the first instance, but that is something I would never consider. My thoughts and support has always been and always will be with the victim of crime and their families. The horrific nature of the incidents, are continuously brought to the fore by the media. I would never add to the family’s ongoing trauma, it’s them that serve a life sentence.

Having left the Police service and moved away from the area to avoid being roped back into the lifestyle on retirement, Carol and I set up home in the South of England, far from the maddening crowds and with no necessity to carry pagers and mobiles – bliss! It was four years later after renovating our home and getting to know our local community that the ‘writing bug’ started, after numerous people on hearing my life story said, ‘You should write a book.’

  ‘Write a book? You must be joking.’ That was a challenge that would be put in the ‘too difficult drawer’ for a long time in. However, in my life fate seems to lend a hand in things that are meant to be and to my disbelief in the weekly Isle of Wight Country Press an advert was published for the local college which read, ‘Write your first novel’.  I enrolled both of us on impulse. Getting me to write a book was something Carol had always wanted me to do, more of an autobiography for the grand children though because of my ’intresting’ life. I don’t think for one minute she or I thought we would become husband and wife authors of crime fiction. This was though the start of our writing career and where the very first draft of Deadly Focus was written – in long hand. We still have that copy in the cupboard today. How do you write together we’re often asked? We are a bit like the tortoise and the hare. I set off at pace and write the story from start to finish usually around 60, to 70,000. Carol then goes through it, trashing some parts, develops the characters and adds the scenes, the drama and emotion. We then sit down together and work through every sentence, until we are satisfied that every word is relevant and moves the story forward. Then and only then do we forward it to our publisher for the professional edit.

We write daily, seven days a week and promote our books through social media, talks about our police careers and our writing, where all proceeds go to the Earl Mountbatten Hospice, a charity very close to our hearts. Whilst writing I have a tendency not to read, especially crime novels, so I don’t become distracted or influenced by their storylines. I write from the heart and with personal experience introduced throughout the novel. Carol reads but only the classics – she too finds reading especially the same genre too distracting.

It was awesome to hear our first book in the DI Dylan series, ‘Deadly Focus’ in the audiobook format. The full version covered by Electric Breeze Audio read by Paul Ansdell is fantastic, if you haven’t heard it you can listen to two chapters free of charge by going to Caffeine Nights Publishers website

Share something with me which others may not know…

In a subjective exam, whilst studying to be a butcher one of the questions was, ‘How should gelatine be handled?’ I’m sure the examiner is still laughing at my answer today. I misread it to read; ‘How should gelignite be handled.’ I could have been the first butcher with exploding pork pies!!!

Who would you like to share a cuppa with and what would it be?

I am a caffeine addict, always have been and always will be. It kept me going through the long working hours. Even our publisher’s are called Caffeine Nights! It must have been fate!

It may sound cheesy but it has to be Carol. We spend all our time together and never get bored with each other’s company. She makes great coffee, although she prefers tea…

Good answer! ;-) Tell our readers how you relax?

We have two English Springer Spaniels, Belle and Vegas who is one of her five pups that we bred six year ago. Walking them twice a day, in all weathers across the fields that run out the back of our house or on the beach which is a stone’s throw away is a great way of relaxing for us both, and if we have to trip off the island Carol’s mum and dad, who live in our annexe look after them for us.

What would you spend  lottery win on?

Securing financial stability for all the family and then giving some to deserving charities of which there are many.

A big diamond doesn’t come into the equation then???? Favourite nibble/food?

Not really a nibble but bacon features at the top of my list of favourite foods. When I’m writing I chew away on Mr Men sweets and Haribo Gummy sweets or Midget Gems.

Do you listen to music or does your working evnvironment have to be silent?

It depends at what stage I’, at with the manuscript. As I start I like silence with limited interruptions, but as the chapters progress and the story flows at pace then I like the background music, the thinking at this stage for me is less intense. I guess I’m lucky in that respect as my part in each novel is running an ‘actual’ enquiry and the road you take with each Dylan book is how it really happens, with all my feelings and thoughts and what I would see and hear. As far as police procedure goes you can’t get it more accurate and I check out with my contacts all the up to date policies and computer systems. I have lived through numerous enquiries with their twists and turns, so I use that experience to tell our fictional stories.

What do you carry in your pocket?

A wallet and a handkerchief.

What are your pet hates?

People who have no respect for others – the takers in life.

People who drive whilst using the mobile phones.

I’m afraid I don’t suffer fools gladly!

What’s your earlist memory?

Having a Mohican haircut around the 1950’s at the local barbers. My Mum was a fan of Saturday night wrestling on TV and  one of her hero’s was Billy Two Rivers who dressed like a Mohican Indian and did a war dance before giving his opponent the karate chop!  

Best advice about writing you would give?

Finish what you start. It is a long and difficult road that many people start  but never finish.

What’s your favourite TV programme at the moment, favourite show and favourite book of all time?

Three questions in one, you wouldn’t be allowed that in an interview but the answer is ANYTHING written by Sally Wainwright! She is an absolute star for her tenacity in getting police procedure correct – which is very rare for todays script writers it appears judging on recent police procedurals that have recently been on the box! Which is one of the reasons we were honoured and ‘pleased as punch’ to be asked to work with her on a new police series for BBC 1 which will air summer 2014.  It’s called  HAPPY VALLEY –

Happy Valley

A 6×60 series written by Sally Wainwright (Last Tango In Halifax, Scott & Bailey) and made by Red Production Company.

Catherine Crowther is the sergeant on duty when flustered, nervous-looking accountant Colin Weatherill comes into her West Yorkshire police station to report a crime. He’s reticent about the details and Colin loses his nerve. The crime he was trying to report was Colin’s own brain-child, a plot to kidnap his boss’s daughter and keep enough of the ransom to put his kids through private school. And now local drug king-pin David Cowgill has put the plan into action, and Colin’s fantasy has become a grim and dangerous reality. The botched kidnapping of eccentric, angry Ann Gallagher and its fallout unfolds… Catherine is used to picking up the pieces of everyone else’s lives but the hunt for Ann Gallagher will get right under her skin. Catherine becomes convinced that only by finding Ann alive and bringing her captors to justice can she avenge the death of her daughter.

The executive producer for Red is Nicola Shindler and Matthew Read for the BBC.

Favourite show has got to be Les Miserables and my favourite book of all time is one I got presented to me as a child at Sunday school, Tom Sawyer.

Is there anything else you want to share with us?

Becoming published authors is a whole new career and we’ll never be able to thank Darren E Laws at Caffeine Nights Publishers enough for signing us up for the DI Dylan series, and the work and commitment he has continued to give us since. Thanks a bunch Darren!

Our readers will see more from Dylan and Jen in 2013 and ‘Deadly Focus’ is being translated into Korean and being published in South Korea in 2014, a deal that was brokered by our foreign writes Literary Agent Monika Luukkenon and Caffeine Nights Publishers.

And there is lots more going on behind the scenes for Carol and I. Book 4 ‘Snow Kills’ is out November this year on Amazon- although we are holding a gala night launch at Prego Cafe Bar & Restaurant on 3rd November for tickets and for those of you who can’t make it there Le Metro in Halifax are holding a Literary Lunch 7th November 2013.  We are just about to sign a contract with a Turkish publisher for all three of our books, that are already published in the UK again brokered by our foreign writes literary agent Monika Luukkenon, to be translated and published in Turkey. We are also working on another BAFTA nominated  police series Scott & Bailey that has just been announced! Also, the first of the Dylan series is about to be written as a script for TV… we live in hope of seeing Dylan on th telly. Keep watching this space and you won’t be disappointed I promise!

Before I go can I just say one thing?

You always have to have the last word don’t you…. ;-) Anyone who knows Bob knows this is true! :-)

DI Dylan followers are THE BEST! Thanks to everyone for your support!

Well, I can’t disagree with you there! Ha ha! I had the last word… ;-)

Bye for now!


Bob xxx

Read more about Bob Bridgestock and the ‘jobs’ he took charge of by googling Bob Bridgestock.

Our work can be found on Caffeine Nights Publishers website @

Our website can be found at and this is our blog where you can often see some of Bob’s rants or crime prevention advice.


Christmas short story competition winning stories from the Isle of Wight!

The Presentation Ceremony at Newport Minster
For the past five years Bob & I have organised a Christmas short story competiton along with our writing circle to try to inspire others on the Isle of Wight to read and write, especially the children. Not only has this competition and the ‘Crime & Intrigue’  short story competiton we organise in the Spring now resulted in 24 published writers but they have also made thousands for local charities. To enable us to attract entries we are very blessed to have the most amazing sponsors which include our local Waterstones and Southampton and Portsmouth  football clubs. This year Julian Fellowes backed the advertising campaign and so did Brendan Coyle of  Downton fame! :-)  
The winners of our competitions are  also invited to the IW Radio Studio where they are interviewed by Heather McCallum on her afternoon show. This extra prize is always very exciting for us all, so a big thanks goes to Heather and IW Radio. There are pictures on our website (which is sponsored by of previous winners in the studio @
This year I wanted to share some of the winning stories and pictures of the presentation evening with you but first of all I wanted to say a great big well done to everyone who wrote a story for our 2012 Isle of Wight ‘Wight Fair Writers’ Circle Christmas short story competition’ – especially those who managed to achieve one of the 24 prizes  which are  listed below. 
A very special thank you goes to the  independent judges, for without them this competition would not be possible and to the High Sheriff Nick Hayward and Chair of the IW Council Susan Scoccia.
We raised over £600 for the Earl Mountbatten Hospice and St Catherine’s School in this, our fifth year of the competition and once again achieved three more published authors from the IOW into the bargain!
The Under 12′s winning story, by Tad Avery will be published this week’s Isle of Wight County Press and here it is!

The Night Before Christmas

It was a cold Christmas Eve but I was keeping warm by whizzing along on my scooter trying my best to do a tailwhip. A tailwhip, for those of you who don’t know is where you jump up and try to spin your deck 360 degrees and land it with both feet. Unfortunately I was finding this very hard and one attempt ended with the deck spinning into my ankle which made me fall over and brought tears to my eyes, this is known a ‘stack’ which means epic fail!

“Hey stack of the day what a complete mess!” To my horror I turned around to see Max also known as Maximum Destruction and his gang who had been watching my wipe out. Max and I didn’t get along very well. They all started laughing at me which made me feel angry. “Well can you do better?” I shouted. “No problem,” he replied and snatched my scooter. Then he pulled off the trick perfectly. It was amazing. Max then threw my scooter down and shouted “Loser,” before walking away.

I scootered home feeling really silly and thought that playing on the play station would cheer me up. However 30 minutes later I found myself being chucked out of the house by my dad asking me to buy some milk.

It had started to get dark but I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I went down to the skatepark for a bit. There was no one there or at least I thought there was no one there.  I went up and down the ramps but I noticed there was someone hunched up in the corner. I scooted over to see if there was something wrong and recognised that it was Max who looked really miserable.

“What’s wrong?’ I said expecting him to be rude as usual but he said nothing. “Hey Max, what is wrong?” I said again. “Go away,” came the reply in a muffled and miserable voice. “Seriously, what is wrong?” I persisted. “Well I will tell you, on one condition that you tell NO ONE!” Max replied. “Sure, you can trust me,” and I sat down next to him.

“Well last Christmas my dad just walked out and my mum has lost her job so things are a bit chaotic right now,” he said. This made me think about Max and his life and I felt sorry for him. “Max that must be difficult. My granny died this year and I have been thinking about that and how much I will miss her this Christmas, “I said. “Christmas is funny huh? It can be a great time of year but it can be sad when you think about other people who are going through hard times or may not have as much as you, “I blurted out.

“Yeah it is funny time of year but not as funny as you making that rubbish trick earlier on,” he joked trying to make me laugh. “How about I teach you how to land that tailwhip?” Max said. “Really, that would be awesome, it would be the best Christmas present,’ I replied.

For the next hour Max and I had the skakepark to ourselves. He patiently taught me how to do a tailwhip which I eventually pulled off. It started to get really dark and I knew I had to make a move. “I’ll have to go now, got to get some milk,” I said. “Does that mean we are friends?” I asked. “I will think about it,” he said acting all tough. I began to walk off and then he shouted, “Hey, you are alright, see you around!”

“Happy Christmas Max,” I said.

“Yeah, Happy Christmas to you,” Max replied.


The End


 The Adult winning entry Colour & Light written by Hannah Saunders will be published on the Isle of Wight County Press online and you can read it here…

Colour and Light

 Berkshire, 1911

 ‘Come away from the window, Robert. You need to wash before dinner.’


Robert didn’t move. He wiped away another cloud of breath from the glass and stared down at the lawn outside, which was already becoming white and crisp with frost. The nanny strode over and wrestled him to a basin filled with hot water. She attacked his cheeks, neck and ears with a rough cloth as he wriggled in her iron grip.


‘You are a naughty boy,’ she snapped when she was done, a little out of breath. Robert immediately broke away and ran back to the window seat. ‘Your mother will be hearing about this. If you’re not downstairs for dinner in five minutes you will get nothing.’


Robert didn’t know if mother would really find out about his naughtiness. If she had heard about him letting the dog out of the front gate, or building mud castles on the lawn, or spitting the gristle from cook’s nasty stew into the potted aspidistra in the hallway, then she must not have minded. She never mentioned it in her letters to him, at least. He imagined her laughing over nanny’s lengthy list of admonishments and complaints; a warm kind mass of silk and curled hair and heavy floral scent, the paper crinkled in her small white hand. Robert felt the mounting sadness within him grow stronger than ever.


Five minutes passed; then thirty, then an hour. The nursery grew quite dark. Flames hissed and crackled in the fireplace, throwing dancing red patterns out onto the carpet. Robert moved away from the window – the draught had numbed his nose and fingers – and sat in front of the ornate fire screen.


Tomorrow would be Christmas Day. A grand tree had been erected in the parlour, draped with paper chains and strings of berries. There were little sweets and tin soldiers and gingerbread men nestled in amongst the sticky needles of the branches, and an angel perched at the very top. Robert wasn’t allowed to touch, and could only come as far as the parlour doorway to admire it. There would be games and candied fruit and a fat roasted goose on the table tomorrow evening; or there might not be, if nanny didn’t look kindly upon his earlier disobedience. His aunt, the lady of the house, was prone to frequent nervous episodes and was rarely seen outside of her bedroom, and as a result did not play any part in Robert’s discipline. He remembered that tonight’s dinner had come and gone and his stomach groaned pitifully.


Robert had already accepted that this Christmas was going to be the worst he’d ever had. In fact, it would probably never be the same again. Last Christmas had been spent by his parents’ side, and every Christmas before that. But this year was different. At six years old, the displacement had shaken him more than anyone would have suspected.


The fire began to die, and Robert started to doze and dream in the last of its warmth.


He is sitting in a carriage with his mother and father, rolling through the dusty streets on an orange Bombay evening. Their progress is slow, the city still frantic with people, life flowing around them as unhindered as a river. The red, gold and green of an English Christmas seemed incredibly plain when he thought back to that previous winter, when every house and shop and market stall had erupted with a million colours, every colour that you could imagine. His world had been exotic and fantastical, but at the time it had seemed nothing out of the ordinary.  For instance, the cows. There are cows in England, too, but these ones are quite different; he recalls their carriage stopping behind one noble beast, her huge white head dusted with bright colours and with fragrant garlands caught in her horns and draped around her neck. She walks slowly, ceremoniously, and everyone waits patiently for her to pass. Instead of omnibuses there are elephants. In a basket writhes the naja naja with his hooded head and flickering tongue. Over the river drifts the ibis, and the amber-eyed shikra sits and watches from the branches of a moringa tree.

The stars never revealed themselves that night, banished by the lighting of thousands of candles and lamps. When he and his parents finally reach the house their doorstep has been decorated with a lotus made with carefully arranged coloured sand. Their young servant girl stands back shyly, smiling, her fingertips stained pink and orange. Mother adores it, but father disapproves and gives her a scolding. It must be cleared away before the night is through.


Later Robert notices that the girl – named Anupama, or Anu for short – is a lot quieter than usual when she helps prepare him for bed. He sits wakefully beneath the covers, waiting for her to tell him one of her exciting old stories, but she remains silent. Eventually she sits at the foot of the bed and sighs. Robert looks at her expectantly.

‘I hear you’re going to England,’ she says after a time. Robert realises that this isn’t the beginning of a story and makes a disappointed noise.

‘Not before Christmas,’ he says.


‘It’s when Father Christmas visits and brings gifts with him. There’s a tree, too, and lots of sweets.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Anu replies thoughtfully, ‘Baba Christmas.’

‘Are you coming with me to England?’

‘I might,’ she says, patting the sheets by his feet absently.

‘Good. Now you don’t need to be sad anymore. I know why you’re sad, it’s because you’re thinking that you’ll miss me.’

Anu smiles wanly and stands. She goes to close the shutters but pauses before she does so, looking out across the city that shimmers like fragments of jewels on black cloth. Robert quickly climbs out of bed to join her.

‘What do you think of diwali?’ she asks him.

‘What’s that?’

A bright flash suddenly erupts above a faraway street, scattering tiny points of fire in every direction. Robert blinks in surprise.

‘This is the festival of diwali. The lights will scare away the darkness. It’s a time to welcome in happiness and wealth.’

Robert nods. ‘I like the colours. It’s a bit like Christmas.’

‘I’m glad you do,’ she says, and pats him on the head. ‘Now, back to bed. I must go and sleep too. Tomorrow I will visit my family. I’ve missed them very much.’


The under 18′s winner was Xavier Theobald.


The night before Christmas

Santa’s Crisis


Santa was getting ready for Christmas he looked out the window it was snowing very hard. He got the reindeers assembled, as usual Rudolf was last off they went.England,France,Italyall was going to plan till they headed toNew York. The reindeers started to get jumpy Santa had to hold on tight then he saw what was the problem. A massive storm was overNew Yorkthere was thunder and lighting the wind was howling there was no way the sleigh could land on the children’s roofs Santa started to panic. Out of the darkness he saw a light flickering. The light got closer; he could not believe his eyes it was the Statue of Liberty!!!!!!!! Walking towards him the flame showed Santa the way toNew York. Santa followed the flame and could see all the houses one of the children was looking out of his window could not believe his eyes the Statue of Liberty was walking thought the streets ofNew Yorkshowing Santa the way. When Santa dropped off the last present he turned to the Statue of Liberty to thank her she disappeared into the night he pinched himself was it a dream? Well all the children got there presents and Santa and the reindeers headed home.


The first place prize winners with little Grace Bridges our youngest entrant at 5yrs old who was also given a certificate for achievement and participation!
From the left Maggie Jones Chair of the WFWC, Linda Edge, Xavier Theobald, Carol Bridgestock, Bob Bridgestock,Hannah Saunders, Heather McCallum and the High Sheriff Nick Hayward. In the front are Grace Bridges and Tad Avery.
The prizes this year on offer this year were:-
A Car & Four on the IOW Ferry.
Sponsored - £10 Waterstones vouchers
Family tickets to:-
Dinosaur Museum
IOW Steam Railway
Seaview Wildlife Encounter
Heights Leisure Centre
Tickets to:
Southampton v West Bromwich – 27th April
Pompey v Hartlepool – 26th January and a Mascot Voucher!
A pearl bracelet
Bracelet and earrings
Cuddly toys!
Look out for the ‘Crime & Intrigue’ Competition which will be advertised in the Spring!
Happy New Year Everyone!
Carol :-) xx