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BEDLAM

Within these multi-layered tales Fleming conveys a strong sense of the humanity binding the disparate characters. Bedlam contains thought-provoking but hugely entertaining slices of life – as the blurb describes it 'everyday people in extraordinary circumstances'. The author concludes the only abnormality about people with mental health problems is the narrow mindedness that continues stigmatizing them.
The subjects cover a variety of bases but search keywords would include post-club sex, gang initiation, post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar illness, casual violence, greedy bankers, blind dating, football hooliganism and death row. While none of that sounds like a barrel of laughs, more pertinent keywords would be love and hope. The characters in these stories often face adversity – misogyny, racism, small-minded attitudes to mental ill-health – but their world also crackles with energy and dark humour.

Extract
‘Dad!’
Fraser swayed in beside me.
‘Fraz’.
‘You just missed it’.
‘Missed what?’
‘They set off a dry ice machine next to the DJ.  It comes drifting like … like a fucking war zone. Honest!  Clouds of the stuff.  Couldn’t see fuck all.  Next minute one of the cop chicks has clambered on top of me.  Gen!  She’s on my lap, legs wrapped round my thighs … fucking … grinding herself into me.  Then I gets the tongue sandwich, the tits in my face, the hand groping my balls … she’s undone my flies, then she’s fucking tugging my wire and her pals are all proper fucking decking it, cause eventually the dry ice starts dispersing.  She’s dismounted, right and when the smokescreen clears away, my cock’s out like a fucking flagpole and I’m faced with a dozen lassies, all grinning at me.  And their phones are all out, like a firing squad … I had the savvy to stick my hands across my face, likes.  Not wanting to be a web star, days before the old fucking “I do”.  I hope it was the redhead, likes’.
‘The fucking redhead?!  You’re getting married next Saturday, lad’.
I glared at his reflection in the mirror.  Then I was aware of two other figures entering.  Instead of taking their turn, one hovered near the cubicles, the other stepped right behind.  Like me he was way too old for a clubber.  A bouncer?  The stink of drink hit me with each tense breath so I reckoned not.  Just a fucking wide-o.  Waiting for me to zip up, he folded his arms, stare boring into me.
‘Can I help you?’ I demanded, about-turning.
‘Aye.  Two of us.  Two of you’.
‘What?’
He was heavy-set, his hair cropped apart from a tuft, gelled up, reminding me of a giant fucking Partridge or something.  But his eyes were red warning signals.  I recognised someone robbed of their judgement by alcohol.  I saw it in Fraser.  I’d seen it in countless mirrors.
‘I said.  There’s two of us, two of youse’.
‘So you’re good at arithmetic?’ Fraser remarked over his shoulder.  ‘You the fucking teacher’s pet?’
‘Fraser’, I said, diffusing this pointless face-off.  ‘What exactly d’you want?’
‘We’re bored getting fucking knockbacks all night from the birds.  We fancy some excitement, a fucking square go.  How about it?  Two on two?  Either here, or we could outside?  But in here’s perfect, eh?  No cameras’.
I shrugged.  ‘Listen, mate.  This is my son.  It’s his stag night.  He’s getting married in seven days.  This is his last night of freedom.  He’s got enough hassles ahead of him, eh?’
The guy’s expression fading he gave a high-pitched snigger.  ‘Nice one.  Fair do’s.  Enjoy yourselves, lads.  We’re not wanting to spoil your stag’.
He thrust a hand at me.  We shook bizarrely, him holding fast for several seconds, reluctant to let go.  I wondered if he was going to try twisting my arm, at which point my army training would've instinctively kicked-in and his arm would've been wrenched from its socket.  I tensed, ready to burl him face-down on the piss-stained floor.  A swift glance at his partner and I focussed on the Adam’s Apple I would pulp with my fist.  But the grip relaxed.  Then he shook Fraser’s hand.
‘All the best next week, pal’. 
They trudged off towards the booming music.
Fraser rinsed his fingers.  ‘Clowns.  We hadn’t washed our hands, yet.  Serves the cunts right’.

REVIEWS
"Poetry in motion. This writer knows how to navigate the S-bends at 70  and never end up in a ditch. Creativity at its best and a bucketful of humour".
Honey Bane, musician and actor. Her latest album is Acceptance of Existence


"This anthology delivers everything - comedy, tragedy, youth culture, fantasy, love, fear and shock. The story Dragons is nail-biting stuff. It's about a teenager made to take a terrifying initiation test in order to be accepted into the local gang. US Out of Vietnam is a dark tale concerning a young woman reunited with her old flame and forced to confront a heart-wrenching truth. There is a rich diversity of characters here and Fleming takes us on an emotional journey with them". 
Anne Duffy

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