Preachers Chronicles by David Anglin - Gritty London urban fiction with heart
Jerry is 13, in care and grieving , the perfect recipe for the draw of the streets. Preachers Chronicles is a raw story of loss, violence, tenderness, and redemption.
Read the opening chapters free below
He woke up to June the 7th, his thick duvet covered the fetal position he’d held himself tight in for the last few hours. His pillow was damp from water leaked from eyes which were now wide. Bags underneath them showed his sleep deprivation. Bags underneath them brought colourful insight into the troubled world
of a boy just 13. June the 7th had always been a bad date for him, where memories compressed to the back of his brain forced a way to the surface. The date was like his personal Friday the 13th, if anything was to go bad, then today was the day. He prayed for a good day but wasn’t convinced that God was listening.
He heard a knock at his door.
“Jerry it’s time to get up for school,” his keyworker Ann said.
He rolled his eyes inwardly, his earlier appeal to God fell on deaf ears. Though he still had no intentions of going to school today, he had a task to do, and it’s not like he’d miss anything in school anyway, since being kicked out of mainstream he couldn’t
remember the last time he learned anything worthwhile, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d wrote on a piece of paper. No, school was pointless, he reasoned.
He held his fetal position tighter, he wished he could stay in the safety of his bed, the warmth reminded him of a mother’s loving arms. He caught himself. The word love was moist, he wasn’t moist, he was a 13-year-old moving deeper than most his
age would ever dream to. He broke from comfort, swinging his long legs from the bed. His size 9 feet landed with a thud. He remembered being with his gran one morning and when taking a look at his feet she said in her patois ‘yu foot long
ehh?’ Memories forced a chuckle to escape from his lips, he hadn’t seen his gran in so long, he’d been a resident of care for what felt like too long. Days spent at the breakfast table of different care homes had him forgetting the meaning of family life. He wondered how his grandma was. His door knocked a tune of tap, tap.
“Jerry?”
His mood switched to rude.
“Yessss,” he gave a long drawn-out answer.
“You getting ready for school?”
He gave an answer with hidden truths.
“I’m getting up” he replied, but he had no intentions of going PRU. The only reason he even answered was that Ann was at his door, a key worker he liked as she was always straight up and real with him.
She’d say, “You’re getting older Jerry, so there’s no need for me to sugarcoat things to you. When you’re doing good, I’m going to tell you and when you’re doing bad, I’m most definitely going to tell you.” She’d add that last part with a chuckle and warm smile. He respected that. Combined with the way she made a mean chicken short crust pie, she’d quickly grown to become one of his favourite key workers. Though today that didn’t mean much, he just wasn’t in the mood, he waited until he heard the creaky footsteps of her going back downstairs before he reached for his
towel, shower gel, and other toiletries. He stepped out of his room and into the confines of a bathroom, housing a toilet, mirror, and slim walk-in shower.
Ten minutes later and he stepped from the bathroom and into his room baby bottom clean, Lynx effect fresh. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror on his wardrobe the match of vanity struck, he noticed the signs of a muscular bulge to his arms, he slow stepped to the left and dabbed to the right, he would have added a left shoulder gun lean too, but he heard his name being called, his half smile faded.
“Jerry,” he heard Ann call from downstairs, “you need to
hurry up.” She was pushing her luck today he thought, he would
have to have words with her later.
Opening his wardrobe he looked for his attire for the day, he brought out two black Nike bottoms, a black Nike hoodie and a black Ralf Lauren body warmer. Back in the day, he could remember asking a particular one of his mother’s numerous boyfriends why he always dressed in black.Rolling his eyes in a way that said why is this boy talking to me, the man would reply, “So that the police can’t catch me if I ever need to go on a bit of work.”
“What type of work?” the young curious Jerry would enquire.
He would then give Jerry a deathly stare. “The type of work that gets those who talk too much and ask too many questions, killed.”
“Hey, don’t talk to Jerry like that, he’s only asking
because…”
“Shut up!”
The guy would interject harshly at Jerry’s mother who would clearly be wide-eyed high.
Jerry pushed these thoughts from his mind, his mood had instantly been fouled and like spoiled milk an aura of pungent emotions enclosed him. Though he did find it ironic that years later he too would pick up the same attire for the roads. He put
on the black war fatigues for London’s underworld streets, he then reached in for the sharp object hidden underneath rolls of socks placed at the bottom of his wardrobe, he grabbed its handle and watched as it gleamed in the light streaming through his curtains signifying a new day.
He’d been told the statistics in various YOS appointments that people who carry knives are more likely to be stabbed by their own knife. He didn’t have plans to harm anyone but he knew he didn’t want to get caught out lacking, he’d already seen the effects of this showcased as a stab wound delivered to the chest of his friend Mystro by opps possessed by a wolf pack mentality. Seeing the scar tissue Jerry had decided instantly that he too would carry a steel tool for safety.
He remembered his Gran telling him one day, “Violence follows the wicked and sooner or later father God puts an end to all wicked deeds,” after picking him up from the police station, the first time he’d ever got arrested. He opened the door to his room and walked downstairs, uncertain if a God even exists who can put
an end to wickedness and uncertain to which side he stood on the
grand scale of good or bad...
To learn more about Red Light Busking events and exhibitions please click here
Book Reviews
Stories that challenge attitudes and prejudice
Teagen - 5 stars
Wonderfully put together and written. There are parts where it feels like you are actually there the graphic imagery is outstanding
Cara - 5 stars
A must read to understand the underbelly of the murky side of society
Matthew - 5 stars
incredible book - gritty, heartbreaking, witty, clever, troubling but captivating and very transparent. It shows very clearly how traumas & bad circumstances can effect a child long term.
Raymond - 5 stars
Dark, disturbing, evocative, unforgiving and descriptive picture of a side of London I’ve never known. Just saying it like it is and giving room to make up our own minds.
Lexy - 5 stars
I could not put this book down!
real, honest and a vivid rollercoster!
Download will be as a PDF that will be sent to you automatically via email after purchase.

