Welcome to Brooksville




Besides council working and a hobbyist interest in suit exposition, you won’t be surprised to learn that Mr. Brooks considered himself a bit of a go-getting entrepreneur and had real estate interests and shares in Linoleum, Laminate and Asbestos companies; in fact the entire suburb had been marked by the council for redevelopment and Brooks’ company (Tricklewood) had the Bulldozing contract and an affiliated company (Rivertides) had the design contract and Industrial Waters Ltd. had the building contract. Brooks painted a word picture of Brooksville for us as he stuffed the council bastardy papers (in triplicate) back into his suitcase (which looked like a jerkin).

In Park Lane, Brooksville (all of the streets were named after places in Monopoly, and the street signs had plastic trelliswork decoration) the homes were as sweet and new and pink and clean as puppies’ tongues. The flowerbeds were made (of cellophane); the lawns stretched and yawned greenly, every tree had a white iron bench beneath it and a feed-tray for love-birds amongst the glossy leaves; the hexagons stamped in the concrete driveways were executed with a mathematical precision calculated to prevent weeds growing there, and on any given Tuesday, when Mother in the kitchen was up to her elbows stuffing a turkey,  you would be able to stroll around the quiet and pleasant paved estate and see children playing X-box through the chink beneath the puffy pink curtains in the picture windows, by the serenely glowing and buzzing blue light of the television set.



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