Our story of the week is a story about loss from the writer Andrew Dicker.

Andrew was born in London, where he also went to medical school. In 1991 he started a new NHS practice in Westminster, London after working in rural England and Hong Kong.

Since retiring, Andrew has focused on his short fiction. Having enjoyed writing academic articles and book chapters professionally, Andrew decided to learn about creative writing with the Open University and Faber Academy.

Andrew has self-published two collections of short stories, The Seduction of Celia and Overlapping Lives, and has had stories accepted for publication by The Lakeview Journal, Storgy Magazine and The Fiction Pool.

In Jennifer, Andrew explores the depths of loss and small acts of kindness that keep us warm.


She parked her car by a cavernous, derelict shed on the edge of the beach; an eye-sore, incongruous, like a war relic. The wooden end panels had rotted; she walked inside, squinting through the dim light. Damp fungal smells permeated the air. Sheets of corrugated iron roofing clanged infernally in the easterly gale, their edges lifting and crashing, letting in transient flashes of light, enough to allow her to find the door at the far end. She pulled the door open and stepped onto the beach, dazzled by the sunlight. The route through the lugubrious shed to the vibrant light was like an epiphany; her mood became optimistic, expectant. Aware that she was dressed unsuitably, she kicked off her flat shoes and walked onto the fine white sand; it blew in gusts stinging her feet and ankles. Her loose white skirt circled and billowed in the wind; there was no one in sight – she gave up and let the wind explore her thighs. The North Sea glistened distantly beneath the endless sky. Warmth from the sun filtered through high haze. She marched over the sand leaning into the coldness of the wind. Below the high tide mark the sand became firm and wet, rippled by the receding sea.Read more…