Temperatures were rapidly rising – a mixture of the muggy June evening, the number of people in the room, and the anticipation of who the winner of The Richard Harrington Literary Challenge would be.

The judges – Richard Harrington MP, Cllr Keith Crout, Watford Observer editor Peter Wilson-Leary, and Grelle White, Watford Area Arts Forum magazine editor – deliberated over the 27 entries and on Monday night were delighted to announce the winner, The New Captain by Watford Writers regular Helen Nicell.

Run as part of the Watford Live! festival celebrations, and jointly organised by Watford Writers and the Watford Area Arts Forum, the top ten shortlisted entries, on the theme of peace to commemorate the outbreak of World War One, were read out by the authors or their nominated readers, while all the entered stories and poems were displayed around the Cha Cha Cha Café for visitors to peruse during the drinks reception.

Stories ranged from a childhood view of war, parents’ worries, obsessive compulsive disorder to the Peace Memorial statue.

Grelle White, former features editor at the Watford Observer, presented Helen with her trophy and a £50 cash prize, donated by Richard Harrington.

“I enjoyed writing the story,“ says Helen from Watford, “and hope everyone identifies with the graffiti sign in it, which always makes me smile!“

Tying for second place were David Elliott with Point of View and Brian Bold with Many Happy Returns of the Day. Kimberley Simcox came fourth with Sunrise.

The remaining six shortlisted stories were: Trevor Spinage, To Sleep, Perchance to Dream; Sue Pettit, Waiting; Jackie Green, Brothers in Arms; John Ramsey, The Importance of Exactitude; Dominic Kenna, All in a Deus Work; and Steve Prizeman, Garden.

“Reading through the entries for this year’s competition initially left the sense that ‘peace’ in most people’s minds equals tranquillity,” said judge Grelle White, who presented Helen with her cup.

“The most striking aspect of this notion was how well potentially traumatic and even tragic situations were handled and on the whole left a positive feeling and points to ponder. Thank you to all the writers – sharing your thoughts and your writing has left me feeling a little wiser as well as entertained.”

“Generally I thought the standard of entries was higher than last year,“ commented Peter Wilson-Leary. “I certainly found ranking my favourites and picking an overall winner a much harder task.“

The New Captain by Helen Nicell

“If you want to join ‘The Peace Movement Group’ you have to do something really big!“ Carl nodded, in awe of 16 year old Seth.

“Yeah, of course. Err, do you have something in mind?”

Stroking the teenage stubble on his chin, Seth paused for a second.

“I want you to get our message out there. I want you to spread the word to as many people as possible. You show me you can do it and you’re in the group, man.”

Carl lay in bed that night unable to sleep, he wanted to belong. He’d been bullied for so long, people always laughing at him, especially once his learning difficulties first came to light. This was a fresh start, a new school, new friends and the chance to join a group for a cause he believed in.

The buzz of the motorway hummed through the night. At 4am the idea came to him. Dressing in a black hoodie and jeans, he crept silently out of the house and opened the garage. Armed with Dad’s roller for painting and white emulsion, Carl made his way to the disused Victorian viaduct over the M25. His mission took him nearly an hour; there was very little traffic and fortunately no police around at that time of the night. Hanging over the side of the bridge, he completed the task as daylight broke. Rubbing sore arms and with an aching back, he made his way home, not waking anyone as he slipped into the house.

At lunchtime, Seth put his arm around Carl’s shoulder.

“Any thoughts?“ “Yes,” Carl blushed and hesitated. “Err, I‘ve done something, it’s pretty amazing.”

“Wow, you‘re a quick worker, Carl.” Seth smiled.

“I can show you after school.”

Seth and the rest of the ‘Peace Movement’ waited at the school gates. Carl smiled broadly as about 30 of them followed him and Seth to the field by the edge of the motorway. He didn’t look up at the bridge, but turned his back to it. Mustering a new-found confidence, he proudly announced to the gathered group, “Members of ‘The Peace Movement’, my contribution to spreading our message to anyone that travels along this motorway every single day.” He held his arm up high, pointing towards the white letters painted on the grey bricks.

Scanning the assembled faces, confused looks stared back, and then sniggers rippled at the back of the crowd. Seth shook his head. The throng were laughing out loud now and pointing at the bridge. Seth smiled slowly.

“Brilliant Carl. I name you our newest captain – Captain Birdseye.”

Carl turned to look at the graffiti on the motorway bridge, to his horror he read

GIVE PEAS A CHANCE