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MURDER AT THE
MEMBERS’ CLUB

1
Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a girl called Molly with an active imagination. I’m not going to say over-active, as that sounds negative. But let’s just say, my  imagination might be more active than many peoples.

Sometimes, this is a super power. I find it very easy to amuse myself, simply by gazing into the distance and letting my imagination run wild. I can also imagine entire scenarios, down to tiny details, far ahead of time, which takes a lot of effort out of planning.

Like, for instance, when my husband Tom proposed

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2
in 2004, I surprised him by immediately telling him I’d imagined the whole Ibiza shebang. Sorted.

I’ve already imagined my 50th birthday birthday party, even though it’s 3.5 years away. It’s going to be fancy dress, theme, ’Something beginning with M.’

My imagination has been my downfall on many occasions, as I’ve imagined best case scenarios which turn out to be a far cry from actual reality. Cue tears on many birthdays.

Once, I was going to meet someone for the first time, with such a clear idea in my head as to what I imagined she’d

SelfishMother.com
3
look like, that when I met her, I kept thinking she was the wrong person. Afterwards, when I remembered her, I remembered my imagined version and not what she really looked like.

When the news is depressing and I’ve over-thumbed social media, a good story is what quiets my mind, whether it’s someone else’s via a book or TV, or me getting stories out of my own head and writing them down.

I have so many stories brimming, both fiction (my imagination) and non-fiction (my memories) that I’ve decided to share them in my new Short Strories

SelfishMother.com
4
Substack.

It’s called, Short Stories by Molly Gunn – Fiction & Non-Fiction. A title that does what is says on the tin! It’s a FREE Newsletter, which I hope you’ll enjoy.

The first story is Murder at the Members’ Club. Here is the beginning – if you enjoy this teaser, you can finish the story via the Substack link in my bio and in my stories. Yes this one’s fiction!

MURDER AT THE MEMBERS’ CLUB: 

Jess often wanted to commit murder at the members’ club. Boho House was boho by name but not by nature. There was nothing boho about

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5
sausage rolls for £7.50 + 25% service charge. Or a pool heated so hot that steam rose aloft like it was the Blue Lagoon in Iceland, not a draughty barn in the grounds of a swazzy Manor House in Kent.

“It’s like a home from home,” she once heard a slim, naked, mahogany-skinned lady say, as they were changing after gruelling Bikram yoga. Jessica had glanced at the sink next to her, which had taps replete with brass plaques offering ‘Chilled’ or ‘Room Temperature’ water, and smirked, inwardly, that it was nothing like her home.

If only

SelfishMother.com
6
the towels in her home came navy-striped, freshly laundered, in a never-ending supply with a handsome pool-boy in a polo T-shirt ready to whisk them away once used.

It became a sort of sport in itself, listening to the women in the changing room, the ones who pronounced ‘years’ like ‘yahs’ and debated whether to detour via Mumbai on the way to Bali.

Their favourite topic though, was complaining about the showers, “so temperamental!” or “no body wash again” and endless comments on the state of the pool; too hot, too cold, “too

SelfishMother.com
7
soupy today, like a Lido, honestly.” Jess breathed steadily, taking it all in, and refrained from seething out loud, “you lucky bitches, be grateful! There’s a cost of living crisis, don’t you know?”

_____________________________

If you’d like to read more, please scoot to Substack via link in bio & in my stories. Subscribe – it’s free! 

 

 

 

 

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- 13 May 24

Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a girl called Molly with an active imagination. I’m not going to say over-active, as that sounds negative. But let’s just say, my  imagination might be more active than many peoples.

Sometimes, this is a super power. I find it very easy to amuse myself, simply by gazing into the distance and letting my imagination run wild. I can also imagine entire scenarios, down to tiny details, far ahead of time, which takes a lot of effort out of planning.

Like, for instance, when my husband Tom proposed in 2004, I surprised him by immediately telling him I’d imagined the whole Ibiza shebang. Sorted.

I’ve already imagined my 50th birthday birthday party, even though it’s 3.5 years away. It’s going to be fancy dress, theme, ‘Something beginning with M.’

My imagination has been my downfall on many occasions, as I’ve imagined best case scenarios which turn out to be a far cry from actual reality. Cue tears on many birthdays.

Once, I was going to meet someone for the first time, with such a clear idea in my head as to what I imagined she’d look like, that when I met her, I kept thinking she was the wrong person. Afterwards, when I remembered her, I remembered my imagined version and not what she really looked like.

When the news is depressing and I’ve over-thumbed social media, a good story is what quiets my mind, whether it’s someone else’s via a book or TV, or me getting stories out of my own head and writing them down.

I have so many stories brimming, both fiction (my imagination) and non-fiction (my memories) that I’ve decided to share them in my new Short Strories Substack.

It’s called, Short Stories by Molly Gunn – Fiction & Non-Fiction. A title that does what is says on the tin! It’s a FREE Newsletter, which I hope you’ll enjoy.

The first story is Murder at the Members’ Club. Here is the beginning – if you enjoy this teaser, you can finish the story via the Substack link in my bio and in my stories. Yes this one’s fiction!

MURDER AT THE MEMBERS’ CLUB: 

Jess often wanted to commit murder at the members’ club. Boho House was boho by name but not by nature. There was nothing boho about sausage rolls for £7.50 + 25% service charge. Or a pool heated so hot that steam rose aloft like it was the Blue Lagoon in Iceland, not a draughty barn in the grounds of a swazzy Manor House in Kent.

It’s like a home from home,” she once heard a slim, naked, mahogany-skinned lady say, as they were changing after gruelling Bikram yoga. Jessica had glanced at the sink next to her, which had taps replete with brass plaques offering ‘Chilled’ or ‘Room Temperature’ water, and smirked, inwardly, that it was nothing like her home.

If only the towels in her home came navy-striped, freshly laundered, in a never-ending supply with a handsome pool-boy in a polo T-shirt ready to whisk them away once used.

It became a sort of sport in itself, listening to the women in the changing room, the ones who pronounced ‘years’ like ‘yahs’ and debated whether to detour via Mumbai on the way to Bali.

Their favourite topic though, was complaining about the showers, “so temperamental!” or “no body wash again” and endless comments on the state of the pool; too hot, too cold, “too soupy today, like a Lido, honestly.” Jess breathed steadily, taking it all in, and refrained from seething out loud, “you lucky bitches, be grateful! There’s a cost of living crisis, don’t you know?”

_____________________________

If you’d like to read more, please scoot to Substack via link in bio & in my stories. Subscribe – it’s free! 

 

 

 

 

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Molly Gunn is the founder and editor of Selfish Mother, a site she created for like-minded women in 2013. Molly has been a journalist for over 15 years, starting out working on fashion desks at The Guardian, The Telegraph & ES Magazine before going freelance in 2006 to write for quality publications. She now edits Selfish Mother, sells #GoodTees to raise funds for charity, & writes freelance for Red Magazine and The Sunday Telegraph's Stella. Molly is mother to Rafferty, 6, Fox, 4, and baby Liberty. She is married to Tom aka music producer Tee Mango and founder of Millionhands. They live in Bruton, Somerset.

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