(Part 01)
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north but our story begins in the East, or more precisely, 20 miles inland from Sharpington-By-Sea, equidistant between Finchbottom and Pepperstock Green, in the sprawling village of Denmead.
Owen Carrington’s Uncle Glyn died on New Year’s Day and left him his Cottage and a small cash sum, more than enough to keep him going for a few more years.
He left it to him because he felt they were kindred spirits, he wanted to be a writer himself but his father made him get a proper job, Owen really liked him and he was a great story teller, and it was his Uncles colourful tales that helped him when he was writing his novels.
His death came as a great shock as it was sudden though not unsurprising given his health.
So that was how he found himself living in a lovely Victorian Cottage in the quaint Downshire Village of Denmead.
It was a very tranquil place though not without its distractions.
From his study he could look out through the open French windows and across the expanse of lawn to a stand of ancient woodland, there was no fence to separate garden and wood the two just merged.
And on the other side of the wood was the hub of the village, the Green Oak, everyone seemed to go there at some point, either for a drink, the restaurant or the coffee suite.
As a writer Owen’s star was definitely in the ascendency after the success of his first Romantic novel “The Maiden Muse” but the change in the fortunes of his writing career were not universally well received, his publisher liked it, his new agent loved it, the bank manager was ecstatic about it but his mother was disappointed by it because she thought it was a bit girlie.
But it wasn’t just his writing career that was climbing high, so was his love life thanks to his muse and lover, Juliana Molesworth, who had brought his writers block to an end, but his muse was going away for ten days to Greece with her folks so he planned to catch up on his writing as he had fallen hopelessly in love with her and the only antidote for his wanting her, in her absence was to throw himself into his work.
However while she was away it occurred to him that although he was in love with her and he had neglected to tell her, either when she returned from University or before she left for Greece, and that was something he clearly had to rectify.
Since he had become a writer of bodice ripping romances it had proved to be an occupation which suited him very well indeed.
And it suited him in many ways, but the main benefit was that he was able to work at home, so he had no tedious commute every day and his working day was flexible to the point that some days he didn’t write at all.
This afforded him the opportunity of playing a round of Golf during the working week when most people had their noses to the grindstone or even taking a day out to go fishing.
But all the normally enjoyable pastimes that would ordinarily keep him entertained didn’t distract him for the ten day Juliana was away and the time dragged by like a month, but he poured all his love and longing into his second novel instead.
However as much as the time may have dragged, the time of his lonely exile did come to an end.
(Part 02)
Owen left home bright and early so he could touch base with Juliana, who he hadn’t seen for 10 days, since she went away with her family to Greece.
She was working all weekend, at the Green Oak because she had missed quite a few shifts while she was away, so it would just be a quick hello then he would see her properly on Monday when they would have a proper hello.
He stepped out into the sunlight and headed off in the direction of the Normandie Woods towards the Molesworth’s house.
Owen Carrington was on his way to spend some time with his girlfriend before she went to work when he was button holed by Andrea Dean who was a very stern looking young woman with short brown hair who managed the local Stephenson’s Supermarket.
She was a pleasant enough young woman but she never smiled and always peered superciliously over her specs at everyone, and didn’t look like a joyful person by any means, but she was actually a very nice person.
“Hello Mr. Carrington” Andrea said
“Good morning Miss Dean and how are you today”
“Fine” she replied
“I’m selling raffle tickets for the for the Summer Fete”
“Oh ok I’ll have a couple of books”
“That will be £10” she said and handed him the tickets.
He took out his wallet and paid her the cash, and with the transaction done he got underway.
As he got close to the Molesworth’s he caught sight of Juliana sitting alone on the brick wall at the front of her house and his heart soared and then he noticed she wasn’t wearing her work clothes.
He guessed she was probably going to change just before she left for work.
He quickened his stride and he thought he’d caught her eye and he gave her a wave, but instead of waving back she got up and got in her dads car and then they drove away.
“Oh bugger” he said
He did go to the house anyway and had a coffee with Lavinia, her mum, and found out that Juliana had gone shopping with her dad to get new shoes for work as she had ruined her other pair while they were away.
He was going to stay until she returned but in the end they were longer than expected so her dad, Gregory, dropped her straight at work.
After leaving the Molesworth’s he set off for a walk around the village and headed towards the Church of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal and then he spent another two hours strolling around the environs of Denmead and found himself back in Normandie woods hot, tired, thirsty and a little peckish.
It was 2.30pm by the time he finally got to the pub and the place was absolutely heaving.
He could see Juliana as he walked into the bar and he thought she’d seen him but she just kept walking, so he went to the bar, they were really busy and he was at the bar for 5 minutes or more and he wasn’t even close to being served.
He looked to his left and he saw Juliana briefly before she strode off again and as there was no sign of a pint and a sandwich on the horizon he followed her.
She led him on a weaving yomp in between crowded tables, and along a short corridor, through a door that led into the beer garden, in and out of packed tables on the terrace and back up the same corridor arriving back in the main bar where he lost sight of her.
“Oh Shit” he exclaimed and returned to the bar and thought he might at least get his pint and sandwich.
(Part 03)
Owen stood at the bar for another ten minutes and still hadn’t been served when Suddenly Juliana was stood next to him.
“Hi honey” he said “Shouldn’t you be serving?”
“I’m due a break,” she replied “But I wasn’t expecting to see you today”
“I’m just after a pint and a sandwich” he said
“And I’ve been trying to talk to you all day”
“Why?” she asked
“I have something important to say to you”
“What?” she asked suspiciously
“I’ll tell you when we’re sitting down” he replied
“Go and find a seat in the garden and I’ll meet you out there” she said
“Great” he said and muttered to himself “I’ll get my sandwich now?”
Owen went and sat down in the furthest corner of the beer garden at the only vacant table and sat alone for ten minutes or so before Juliana arrived with a pint of beer and a tuna sandwich.
“There you are sir,” she said in her best wench’s voice, putting first the beer and then the plate on the table “sorry to keep you waiting sir”
“Thank you miss” he said pompously
“Well if that’s all sir? I do have other customers”
“No, you may sit beside your master” he said and patted the bench
“Thankee sir” Juliana replied and bobbed a curtsey
She then gave a quick glance around her, and kissed him tenderly.
She was only able to grab a 10 minute break so they continued to sit in the beer garden where he could at least steal an occasional kiss.
But before she went back to work she asked
“Are you going to dump me?”
“No of course not” he replied “why would you think that?”
“You said you had something important to say to me” she pointed out
“That’s right, but I didn’t mean that” he said
“Well what do you want to say to me then?”
“I wanted to tell you that I love you” he said
“Is that all?” she asked and laughed
“What do you mean is that all?”
“Well I already knew that” she said
“But I’ve never told you”
“You didn’t need to” she said smugly “I knew you loved me before you did”
“So shouldn’t I say it then?” he asked
“Oh yes, whenever you like”
“Good” he replied “I love you”
“I love you too” she replied and kissed him
“I missed you” he said
“I missed you too” Juliana replied “but I have to go”
“Aren’t you going to show me your white bits?” he asked
“No I am not” she replied indignantly “well not here anyway”
Then she turned away to go but she gave another quick glance around her and then lifted the side of her skirt up exposing a quick glimpse of untanned thigh.
“Just to keep you interested” she said letting the skirt fall and then she rushed away giggling.
Sunday 30 April 2017
Saturday 29 April 2017
Downshire Diary – (48) The Captain’s Love
(Part 01)
The village of Highfinch sits just on the edge of the Pepperstock Hills and the Lily Green Hollows Golf Club separates the village from the Hamlet of Lily Green, and the combination of those two and Kingfisherbridge made up the parish of St Martins.
Among the residents of Highfinch was Lorraine Weaving, a beautiful 29 year old with hazel eyes, 5 foot 7 inches tall, athletically built and completely bald.
She was completely devoid of any hair at all, no eyebrows, body hair and as everyone was always asking her, nothing down there as well.
And the answer to the other question she was always being asked, was that she fell out of a tree when she was six.
Lorraine was originally born in Childean, but in her 29 years she had lived all over the Finchbottom Vale which nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
Throughout its history the Finchbottom Vale was largely dependent on agriculture and so it remained into the 21st century but many and varied occupations and endeavour’s thrived alongside the traditional rural livelihood’s but it was in agriculture that the Weaving family had earned their livings for centuries but Lorraine, who loved her family and the Vale in equal measure, decided pretty early on in her life that agriculture was not for her.
She could have chosen almost any Town or Village in the Vale to start her change of career but she chose Highfinch, partly because she had a great aunt living in the village who offered her a roof over her head but mainly because she held a particular affinity for the village because it was in Hawks Wood where she parted company with her hair.
When Lorraine Weaving took over as practice manager of the Highfinch Surgery she quickly made new friends as she made her mark in her quiet and unassuming way and Lorraine was well liked by staff and patients alike and she firmly believed she had found her niche.
So she had a nice little house in the village a job that she loved and wonderful friends and she was as content as she had ever been, but all of that changed on the 1st of July when she met Captain Peter Loosemore.
He was at the surgery with one of his regiment, Sgt Paul Russell, who had been severely wounded by an IED in Afghanistan, and he was a double amputee, his left leg had gone below the knee and his right just above it.
He was there for a physio appointment and the Captain was there for moral support.
But the meeting left the Captain and the Practice Manager completely smitten.
There second meeting was two days later at the Annual Finchbottom Vale Health Care Summer Ball at the Clayton Manor Hotel in the village of Clayton where they fell deeper.
But straight after the Ball he had to return to Barracks as the Regiment was deploying to Afghanistan.
They didn’t have their first date until after his short but bloody tour.
(Part 02)
The first of many dates for Lorraine and Peter was in Purplemere but it wasn’t until after a carefully planned supper at her house in Highfinch that they made love for the first time
And as they lay panting in the afterglow Lorraine said breathlessly.
“Oh Peter, I love you”
And in response he kissed her hot panting mouth and replied.
“I love you too”
And in the afterglow Peter made and Lorraine accepted his proposal of marriage.
The wedding date was set for May 21st and would take place in St Martin’s church in Highfinch, and the ceremony would be performed by Jenna Lawton.
Her parents were ecstatic when Lorraine broke the news to them and when she introduced Peter to them they fell in love with him as well.
Lorraine Weaving, slender a tall girl, athletically built with a lovely shape and stunning legs and her mother was just an older version of her daughter apart from the bald head.
Lorraine was thirty years old but looked much younger and her mum was beginning to think the day would never come when she could hand down to her daughter her own wedding dress.
Lorraine had been a happy singleton, and content to be so until the day when she walked into the waiting room of the Highfinch Surgery and met Captain Peter Loosemore.
Her mum handed Lorraine the dress box and she said
“You are the spit of me when I got married, I’d love you to wear this”
“What is it?” Lorraine asked
“Open it and see” she replied
Lorraine opened the box and her eyes widened as she unfolded, first the tissue and then the garment
“It’s beautiful” she said with tears welling up in her eyes
“Absolutely beautiful”
When she put it on it was a perfect fit and it was her mums turn to cry as her beautiful daughter wore her mother’s beautiful wedding dress.
On a sunny May afternoon beautiful Practice Manager Lorraine Weaving married Captain Peter Loosemore of the Downshire Light Infantry at St Martin’s church in the village of Highfinch.
She looked even more stunning than usual with her hairless head surmounted by yellow flowers and her veil and wearing her mother’s wedding dress.
In line with tradition her skin flushed pink on her big day.
Lorraine was thirty years old but looked much younger and her mother was so happy on her daughter’s wedding day that she cried all through the ceremony.
Outside the church when the bride and groom emerged there was a traditional military honour guard and when she saw Sgt Russell standing to attention with his comrades, she smiled because it was Paul who inadvertently introduced them.
But the amount of tears shed on the day of her daughter’s wedding were surpassed tenfold on the day Lorraine told her mother she was pregnant.
(Part 03)
But the amount of tears shed on the day of her daughter’s wedding were surpassed tenfold on the day Lorraine told her mother she was pregnant.
It was just under a year after the wedding and they were on the verge of their first anniversary and over the following months the slender five foot seven athletically built girl grew and grew.
From behind she didn’t look very different her bum was small and round and she still looked slim but at the front she was huge, her belly was round and full and her usually small breasts had swollen to the size of melons.
In October Peter had been away on an exercise in Norway and when he returned in November he found Lorraine in a very strange mood and try as he might he couldn’t get to the bottom of it, until it was time for bed.
Peter had finished in the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed and watched his beautiful wife undressing.
First she unhooked the straps of her dungarees and let them fall to the floor then she pulled her jumper off over her head and then she noticed him watching her and she stopped and walked into the bathroom wearing just a t-shirt and maternity pants.
“How can you bare to look at me?” she asked and closed the bathroom door.
He tried talking to her through the bathroom door but he got no response and he could hear her crying.
When she came back out ten minutes later she was wearing a large shapeless nighty and she was drying her eyes.
“What’s the matter hon?” he asked her and took her hand “Please tell me”
“I’m ugly” she said “That’s what the matter is”
“No, you’re not, you’re beautiful Lorraine” he corrected her
“I’m a great fat lump” she said and started crying
Peter immediately put his arms around her to comfort her
“Darling you’re gorgeous” he said
“But I’m not the slender nymph you fell in love with” she sobbed
“I’m a blimp”
“I think you’re lovely” Peter said “I think you’re sexy”
“I used to be lovely” she sobbed “I used to be sexy”
“You still are” he assured her
“I’m not” she insisted
He took her hand and kissed it and said
“I really love you Lorraine, you are my life and my love”
Then he kissed her lips, still salty with tears.
It was a long passionate kiss, full of love requited and Peter only broke away to swiftly remove her shapeless nightie in a prelude to making love to her.
It was not the last occasion on which he made love to her during that pregnancy or subsequent pregnancies.
Peter loved Lorraine body and soul, whether that body was skinny or in the bloom of pregnancy, for the rest of his life.
Lorraine’s feelings for him were reciprocated with interest and she remained his and his alone until his death.
The village of Highfinch sits just on the edge of the Pepperstock Hills and the Lily Green Hollows Golf Club separates the village from the Hamlet of Lily Green, and the combination of those two and Kingfisherbridge made up the parish of St Martins.
Among the residents of Highfinch was Lorraine Weaving, a beautiful 29 year old with hazel eyes, 5 foot 7 inches tall, athletically built and completely bald.
She was completely devoid of any hair at all, no eyebrows, body hair and as everyone was always asking her, nothing down there as well.
And the answer to the other question she was always being asked, was that she fell out of a tree when she was six.
Lorraine was originally born in Childean, but in her 29 years she had lived all over the Finchbottom Vale which nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
Throughout its history the Finchbottom Vale was largely dependent on agriculture and so it remained into the 21st century but many and varied occupations and endeavour’s thrived alongside the traditional rural livelihood’s but it was in agriculture that the Weaving family had earned their livings for centuries but Lorraine, who loved her family and the Vale in equal measure, decided pretty early on in her life that agriculture was not for her.
She could have chosen almost any Town or Village in the Vale to start her change of career but she chose Highfinch, partly because she had a great aunt living in the village who offered her a roof over her head but mainly because she held a particular affinity for the village because it was in Hawks Wood where she parted company with her hair.
When Lorraine Weaving took over as practice manager of the Highfinch Surgery she quickly made new friends as she made her mark in her quiet and unassuming way and Lorraine was well liked by staff and patients alike and she firmly believed she had found her niche.
So she had a nice little house in the village a job that she loved and wonderful friends and she was as content as she had ever been, but all of that changed on the 1st of July when she met Captain Peter Loosemore.
He was at the surgery with one of his regiment, Sgt Paul Russell, who had been severely wounded by an IED in Afghanistan, and he was a double amputee, his left leg had gone below the knee and his right just above it.
He was there for a physio appointment and the Captain was there for moral support.
But the meeting left the Captain and the Practice Manager completely smitten.
There second meeting was two days later at the Annual Finchbottom Vale Health Care Summer Ball at the Clayton Manor Hotel in the village of Clayton where they fell deeper.
But straight after the Ball he had to return to Barracks as the Regiment was deploying to Afghanistan.
They didn’t have their first date until after his short but bloody tour.
(Part 02)
The first of many dates for Lorraine and Peter was in Purplemere but it wasn’t until after a carefully planned supper at her house in Highfinch that they made love for the first time
And as they lay panting in the afterglow Lorraine said breathlessly.
“Oh Peter, I love you”
And in response he kissed her hot panting mouth and replied.
“I love you too”
And in the afterglow Peter made and Lorraine accepted his proposal of marriage.
The wedding date was set for May 21st and would take place in St Martin’s church in Highfinch, and the ceremony would be performed by Jenna Lawton.
Her parents were ecstatic when Lorraine broke the news to them and when she introduced Peter to them they fell in love with him as well.
Lorraine Weaving, slender a tall girl, athletically built with a lovely shape and stunning legs and her mother was just an older version of her daughter apart from the bald head.
Lorraine was thirty years old but looked much younger and her mum was beginning to think the day would never come when she could hand down to her daughter her own wedding dress.
Lorraine had been a happy singleton, and content to be so until the day when she walked into the waiting room of the Highfinch Surgery and met Captain Peter Loosemore.
Her mum handed Lorraine the dress box and she said
“You are the spit of me when I got married, I’d love you to wear this”
“What is it?” Lorraine asked
“Open it and see” she replied
Lorraine opened the box and her eyes widened as she unfolded, first the tissue and then the garment
“It’s beautiful” she said with tears welling up in her eyes
“Absolutely beautiful”
When she put it on it was a perfect fit and it was her mums turn to cry as her beautiful daughter wore her mother’s beautiful wedding dress.
On a sunny May afternoon beautiful Practice Manager Lorraine Weaving married Captain Peter Loosemore of the Downshire Light Infantry at St Martin’s church in the village of Highfinch.
She looked even more stunning than usual with her hairless head surmounted by yellow flowers and her veil and wearing her mother’s wedding dress.
In line with tradition her skin flushed pink on her big day.
Lorraine was thirty years old but looked much younger and her mother was so happy on her daughter’s wedding day that she cried all through the ceremony.
Outside the church when the bride and groom emerged there was a traditional military honour guard and when she saw Sgt Russell standing to attention with his comrades, she smiled because it was Paul who inadvertently introduced them.
But the amount of tears shed on the day of her daughter’s wedding were surpassed tenfold on the day Lorraine told her mother she was pregnant.
(Part 03)
But the amount of tears shed on the day of her daughter’s wedding were surpassed tenfold on the day Lorraine told her mother she was pregnant.
It was just under a year after the wedding and they were on the verge of their first anniversary and over the following months the slender five foot seven athletically built girl grew and grew.
From behind she didn’t look very different her bum was small and round and she still looked slim but at the front she was huge, her belly was round and full and her usually small breasts had swollen to the size of melons.
In October Peter had been away on an exercise in Norway and when he returned in November he found Lorraine in a very strange mood and try as he might he couldn’t get to the bottom of it, until it was time for bed.
Peter had finished in the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed and watched his beautiful wife undressing.
First she unhooked the straps of her dungarees and let them fall to the floor then she pulled her jumper off over her head and then she noticed him watching her and she stopped and walked into the bathroom wearing just a t-shirt and maternity pants.
“How can you bare to look at me?” she asked and closed the bathroom door.
He tried talking to her through the bathroom door but he got no response and he could hear her crying.
When she came back out ten minutes later she was wearing a large shapeless nighty and she was drying her eyes.
“What’s the matter hon?” he asked her and took her hand “Please tell me”
“I’m ugly” she said “That’s what the matter is”
“No, you’re not, you’re beautiful Lorraine” he corrected her
“I’m a great fat lump” she said and started crying
Peter immediately put his arms around her to comfort her
“Darling you’re gorgeous” he said
“But I’m not the slender nymph you fell in love with” she sobbed
“I’m a blimp”
“I think you’re lovely” Peter said “I think you’re sexy”
“I used to be lovely” she sobbed “I used to be sexy”
“You still are” he assured her
“I’m not” she insisted
He took her hand and kissed it and said
“I really love you Lorraine, you are my life and my love”
Then he kissed her lips, still salty with tears.
It was a long passionate kiss, full of love requited and Peter only broke away to swiftly remove her shapeless nightie in a prelude to making love to her.
It was not the last occasion on which he made love to her during that pregnancy or subsequent pregnancies.
Peter loved Lorraine body and soul, whether that body was skinny or in the bloom of pregnancy, for the rest of his life.
Lorraine’s feelings for him were reciprocated with interest and she remained his and his alone until his death.
Friday 28 April 2017
Downshire Diary – (47) The Muse of Love
(Part 01)
Owen Carrington’s Uncle Glyn died on New Year’s Day and left him his Cottage and a small cash sum, more than enough to keep him going for a few more years.
He left it to him because he felt they were kindred spirits, he wanted to be a writer himself but his father made him get a proper job, Owen really liked him and he was a great story teller, and it was his Uncles colourful tales that helped him when he was writing his novels.
His death came as a shock as it was sudden though not unsurprising given his life health.
So that was how he found himself living in a lovely Victorian Cottage in the quaint Downshire Village of Denmead.
It was a very tranquil place though not without its distractions.
From his study he could look out through the open French windows and across the expanse of lawn to a stand of ancient woodland, there was no fence to separate garden and wood the two just merged.
And on the other side of the wood was the hub of the village, the Green Oak, everyone seemed to go there at some point, either for a drink, the restaurant or the coffee suite.
Owen’s star was definitely in the ascendency after the success of his first Romantic novel “The Maiden Muse” but the change in the fortunes of his writing career were not universally well received, his publisher liked it, his new agent loved it, the bank manager was ecstatic about it but his mother was disappointed by it because she thought it was a bit girlie.
But it wasn’t just his writing career that was climbing high, so was his love life thanks to his muse and lover, Juliana Molesworth, who had brought his writers block to an end, but his muse was going away for ten days to Greece with her folks so he planned to catch up on his writing as he had fallen hopelessly in love with her the only antidote for his wanting her, in her absence was to throw himself into his work.
However while she was away it occurred to him that although he was in love with her he had neglected to tell her, either when she returned from University or before she left for Greece, and that was something he clearly had to rectify.
Since he had become a writer of bodice ripping romances it had proved to be an occupation which suited him very well indeed.
And it suited him in many ways, but the main benefit was that he was able to work at home, so he had no tedious commute every day and his working day was flexible to the point that some days he didn’t write at all.
This afforded him the opportunity of playing a round of Golf during the working week when most people had their noses to the grindstone or even taking a day out to go fishing.
But all the normally enjoyable pastimes that would ordinarily keep him entertained didn’t distract him for the ten day Juliana was away and the time dragged by like a month, but he poured all his love and longing into his second novel instead.
However as much as the time may have dragged, the time of his lonely exile did come to an end.
(Part 02)
Owen left home bright and early so he could touch base with Juliana, who he hadn’t seen for 10 days, since she went away with her family to Greece.
She was working all weekend, at the Green Oak because she had missed quite a few shift while she was away, so it would just be a quick hello then he would see her properly on Monday when they would have a proper hello.
He stepped out into the sunlight and headed off in the direction of the Normandie Woods towards the Molesworth’s house.
Owen Carrington was on his way to spend some time with his girlfriend before she went to work when he was button holed by Andrea Dean who was a very stern looking young woman with short brown hair who managed the local Stephenson’s Supermarket.
She was a pleasant enough young woman but she never smiled and always peered superciliously over her specs at everyone, and didn’t look like a joyful person by any means, but she was actually a very nice person.
“Hello Mr. Carrington” Andrea said
“Good morning Miss Dean and how are you today”
“Fine” she replied
“I’m selling raffle tickets for the for the Summer Fete”
“Oh ok I’ll have a couple of books”
“That will be £10” she said and handed him the tickets.
He took out his wallet and paid her the cash, and with the transaction done he got underway.
As he got close to the Molesworth’s he caught sight of Juliana sitting alone on the brick wall at the front of her house and he noticed she wasn’t wearing her work clothes.
He guessed she was probably going to change just before she left for work.
He quickened his stride and he thought he’d caught her eye and he gave her a wave, but instead of waving back she got up and got in her dads car and then they drove away.
“Oh bugger” he said
He did go to the house anyway and had a coffee with Lavinia, her mum and found out that Juliana had gone shopping with her dad to get new shoes for work as she had ruined her other pair while they were away.
He was going to stay until she returned but in the end they were longer than expected so her dad, Gregory, dropped her straight at work.
After leaving the Molesworth’s he set off for a walk around the village and headed towards the Church of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal and then he spent another two hours strolling around the environs of Denmead and found himself back in Normandie woods hot, tired, thirsty and a little peckish.
It was 2.30pm by the time he finally got to the pub and the place was absolutely heaving
He could see Juliana as he walked into the bar and he thought she’d seen him but she just kept walking, so he went to the bar, they were really busy and he was at the bar for 5 minutes or more and he wasn’t even close to being served.
He looked to his left and he saw Juliana briefly before she strode off again and as there was no sign of a pint and a sandwich on the horizon he followed her.
She led him on a weaving yomp in between crowded tables, and along a short corridor, through a door that led into the beer garden, in and out of packed tables on the terrace and back up the same corridor arriving back in the main bar where he lost sight of her.
“Oh Shit” he exclaimed and returned to the bar and thought he might least I’d get his pint and sandwich.
(Part 03)
Owen stood at the bar for another ten minutes and still hadn’t been served when Suddenly Juliana was stood next to him.
“Hi honey” he said “Shouldn’t you be serving?”
“I’m due a break,” she replied “But I wasn’t expecting to see you today”
“I’m just after a pint and a sandwich” he said
“And I’ve been trying to talk to you all day”
“Why?” she asked
“I have something important to say to you”
“What?” she asked suspiciously
“I’ll tell you when we’re sitting down” he replied
“Go and find a seat in the garden and I’ll meet you out there” she said
“Great” he said and muttered to himself “I’ll get my sandwich now?”
Owen went and sat down in the furthest corner of the beer garden at the only vacant table and sat alone for ten minutes or so before Juliana arrived with a pint of beer and a tuna sandwich.
“There you are sir,” she said in her best wench’s voice, putting first the beer and then the plate on the table “sorry to keep you waiting sir”
“Thank you miss” he said pompously
“Well if that’s all sir? I do have other customers”
“No, you may sit beside your master” he said and patted the bench
“Thankee sir” Juliana replied and bobbed a curtsey
She then gave a quick glance around her, and kissed him tenderly.
She was only able to grab a 10 minute break so they continued to sit in the beer garden where he could at least steal an occasional kiss.
But before she went back to work she asked
“Are you going to dump me?”
“No of course not” he replied “why would you think that?”
“You said you had something important to say to me” she pointed out
“That’s right, but I didn’t mean that” he said
“Well what do you want to say to me then?”
“I wanted to tell you that I love you” he said
“Is that all?” she asked and laughed
“What do you mean is that all?”
“Well I already knew that” she said
“But I’ve never told you”
“You didn’t need to” she said smugly “I knew you loved me before you did”
“So shouldn’t I say it then?” he asked
“Oh yes, whenever you like”
“Good” he replied “I love you”
“I love you too” she replied and kissed him
“I missed you” he said
“I missed you too” Juliana replied “but I have to go”
“Aren’t you going to show me your white bits?” he asked
“No I am not” she replied indignantly “well not here anyway”
Then she turned away to go but she gave another quick glance around her and then lifted the side of her skirt up exposing a quick glimpse of untanned thigh.
“Just to keep you interested” she said letting the skirt fall and then she rushed away giggling.
Owen Carrington’s Uncle Glyn died on New Year’s Day and left him his Cottage and a small cash sum, more than enough to keep him going for a few more years.
He left it to him because he felt they were kindred spirits, he wanted to be a writer himself but his father made him get a proper job, Owen really liked him and he was a great story teller, and it was his Uncles colourful tales that helped him when he was writing his novels.
His death came as a shock as it was sudden though not unsurprising given his life health.
So that was how he found himself living in a lovely Victorian Cottage in the quaint Downshire Village of Denmead.
It was a very tranquil place though not without its distractions.
From his study he could look out through the open French windows and across the expanse of lawn to a stand of ancient woodland, there was no fence to separate garden and wood the two just merged.
And on the other side of the wood was the hub of the village, the Green Oak, everyone seemed to go there at some point, either for a drink, the restaurant or the coffee suite.
Owen’s star was definitely in the ascendency after the success of his first Romantic novel “The Maiden Muse” but the change in the fortunes of his writing career were not universally well received, his publisher liked it, his new agent loved it, the bank manager was ecstatic about it but his mother was disappointed by it because she thought it was a bit girlie.
But it wasn’t just his writing career that was climbing high, so was his love life thanks to his muse and lover, Juliana Molesworth, who had brought his writers block to an end, but his muse was going away for ten days to Greece with her folks so he planned to catch up on his writing as he had fallen hopelessly in love with her the only antidote for his wanting her, in her absence was to throw himself into his work.
However while she was away it occurred to him that although he was in love with her he had neglected to tell her, either when she returned from University or before she left for Greece, and that was something he clearly had to rectify.
Since he had become a writer of bodice ripping romances it had proved to be an occupation which suited him very well indeed.
And it suited him in many ways, but the main benefit was that he was able to work at home, so he had no tedious commute every day and his working day was flexible to the point that some days he didn’t write at all.
This afforded him the opportunity of playing a round of Golf during the working week when most people had their noses to the grindstone or even taking a day out to go fishing.
But all the normally enjoyable pastimes that would ordinarily keep him entertained didn’t distract him for the ten day Juliana was away and the time dragged by like a month, but he poured all his love and longing into his second novel instead.
However as much as the time may have dragged, the time of his lonely exile did come to an end.
(Part 02)
Owen left home bright and early so he could touch base with Juliana, who he hadn’t seen for 10 days, since she went away with her family to Greece.
She was working all weekend, at the Green Oak because she had missed quite a few shift while she was away, so it would just be a quick hello then he would see her properly on Monday when they would have a proper hello.
He stepped out into the sunlight and headed off in the direction of the Normandie Woods towards the Molesworth’s house.
Owen Carrington was on his way to spend some time with his girlfriend before she went to work when he was button holed by Andrea Dean who was a very stern looking young woman with short brown hair who managed the local Stephenson’s Supermarket.
She was a pleasant enough young woman but she never smiled and always peered superciliously over her specs at everyone, and didn’t look like a joyful person by any means, but she was actually a very nice person.
“Hello Mr. Carrington” Andrea said
“Good morning Miss Dean and how are you today”
“Fine” she replied
“I’m selling raffle tickets for the for the Summer Fete”
“Oh ok I’ll have a couple of books”
“That will be £10” she said and handed him the tickets.
He took out his wallet and paid her the cash, and with the transaction done he got underway.
As he got close to the Molesworth’s he caught sight of Juliana sitting alone on the brick wall at the front of her house and he noticed she wasn’t wearing her work clothes.
He guessed she was probably going to change just before she left for work.
He quickened his stride and he thought he’d caught her eye and he gave her a wave, but instead of waving back she got up and got in her dads car and then they drove away.
“Oh bugger” he said
He did go to the house anyway and had a coffee with Lavinia, her mum and found out that Juliana had gone shopping with her dad to get new shoes for work as she had ruined her other pair while they were away.
He was going to stay until she returned but in the end they were longer than expected so her dad, Gregory, dropped her straight at work.
After leaving the Molesworth’s he set off for a walk around the village and headed towards the Church of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal and then he spent another two hours strolling around the environs of Denmead and found himself back in Normandie woods hot, tired, thirsty and a little peckish.
It was 2.30pm by the time he finally got to the pub and the place was absolutely heaving
He could see Juliana as he walked into the bar and he thought she’d seen him but she just kept walking, so he went to the bar, they were really busy and he was at the bar for 5 minutes or more and he wasn’t even close to being served.
He looked to his left and he saw Juliana briefly before she strode off again and as there was no sign of a pint and a sandwich on the horizon he followed her.
She led him on a weaving yomp in between crowded tables, and along a short corridor, through a door that led into the beer garden, in and out of packed tables on the terrace and back up the same corridor arriving back in the main bar where he lost sight of her.
“Oh Shit” he exclaimed and returned to the bar and thought he might least I’d get his pint and sandwich.
(Part 03)
Owen stood at the bar for another ten minutes and still hadn’t been served when Suddenly Juliana was stood next to him.
“Hi honey” he said “Shouldn’t you be serving?”
“I’m due a break,” she replied “But I wasn’t expecting to see you today”
“I’m just after a pint and a sandwich” he said
“And I’ve been trying to talk to you all day”
“Why?” she asked
“I have something important to say to you”
“What?” she asked suspiciously
“I’ll tell you when we’re sitting down” he replied
“Go and find a seat in the garden and I’ll meet you out there” she said
“Great” he said and muttered to himself “I’ll get my sandwich now?”
Owen went and sat down in the furthest corner of the beer garden at the only vacant table and sat alone for ten minutes or so before Juliana arrived with a pint of beer and a tuna sandwich.
“There you are sir,” she said in her best wench’s voice, putting first the beer and then the plate on the table “sorry to keep you waiting sir”
“Thank you miss” he said pompously
“Well if that’s all sir? I do have other customers”
“No, you may sit beside your master” he said and patted the bench
“Thankee sir” Juliana replied and bobbed a curtsey
She then gave a quick glance around her, and kissed him tenderly.
She was only able to grab a 10 minute break so they continued to sit in the beer garden where he could at least steal an occasional kiss.
But before she went back to work she asked
“Are you going to dump me?”
“No of course not” he replied “why would you think that?”
“You said you had something important to say to me” she pointed out
“That’s right, but I didn’t mean that” he said
“Well what do you want to say to me then?”
“I wanted to tell you that I love you” he said
“Is that all?” she asked and laughed
“What do you mean is that all?”
“Well I already knew that” she said
“But I’ve never told you”
“You didn’t need to” she said smugly “I knew you loved me before you did”
“So shouldn’t I say it then?” he asked
“Oh yes, whenever you like”
“Good” he replied “I love you”
“I love you too” she replied and kissed him
“I missed you” he said
“I missed you too” Juliana replied “but I have to go”
“Aren’t you going to show me your white bits?” he asked
“No I am not” she replied indignantly “well not here anyway”
Then she turned away to go but she gave another quick glance around her and then lifted the side of her skirt up exposing a quick glimpse of untanned thigh.
“Just to keep you interested” she said letting the skirt fall and then she rushed away giggling.
Thursday 27 April 2017
Downshire Diary – (46) A Bridge too Far
(Part 01)
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the North and it’s in leafy Great Trotwood where our story begins.
When Kevin Riddett first moved to Great Trotwood he did so without the expectation of falling in love.
But when he was invited to a garden party at Trotwood Manor that was precisely what happened as he fell in love with Emma Ridgley the very first moment he laid eyes on her.
She was perfect, five foot four to his five eight, bobbed blonde hair, blue eyes a strong chin and a sporty physique.
But he barely finished saying hello when he noticed the wedding ring, which was to him what Kryptonite was to Superman.
He had a strict rule about adultery, a rule which he had never on a single occasion, broken.
He had always avoided fishing in someone else’s pond, no matter how attractive the body of water might be, so that was as far it went, they became friends and he admired her without making a move and valued her friendship.
Emma was married to Derek Ridgley, and thanks to the success of his business they lived in a large house in the village and they had two young children.
Emma loved her husband and they had been married for ten years but her husband was incapable in every conceivable way of loving her, he was a drunkard and a serial adulterer and yet she had remained faithful to him for the nine years since she found out he had betrayed her.
And even after she met Kevin whom she had fallen for she remained faithful, she was a married woman and to betray that was a big no-no for her, even if it was not so for her husband.
So a year went by and Emma and Kevin shared their platonic relationship, she saw the time she spent with him as a guilty pleasure, and he was content with the friendship of a married woman and refrained from making an adulteress of her.
They did the rounds of parties, flower shows, fetes, all the church events, weddings, christenings and funerals, every social event big and small and then it was time for the Trotwood Manor garden party again and all the usual faces were there with the conspicuous exception of Derek, so not for the first time Kevin was her escort and they mingled and circulated and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.
(Part 02)
It was time for the Trotwood Manor garden party again and all the usual faces were there with the conspicuous exception of Derek, so not for the first time Kevin was Emma’s escort and they mingled and circulated and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.
At the end of the day they left the party and headed towards the carpark and they paused before crossing the bridge over the culvert and turned to look across the lake and they were amazed at how natural the scene was when considering that little more than a 100 years earlier it was a boggy field.
That was before a Victorian industrialist named Josiah Tiplady, who, having made his fortune amongst the smoking factory chimneys of Lancashire, was seeking a country retreat in which to enjoy his fortune as well as the considerably fresher air, so he purchased the old Trotwood Manor.
He famously said he chose the Trotwood Estate as it had everything he was looking for, but not apparently a lake complete with fountains and an island bird sanctuary.
But as they viewed the scene on that glorious June evening they couldn’t have argued that it wasn’t money well spent.
“This is really beautiful” she said
He agreed and then they turned and continued onto the bridge and halfway across Kevin paused and turned to face Emma who had the lake behind her and said
“But now it’s even more beautiful”
And then he kissed her.
It was not a tentative or hesitant kiss and nor was it unwelcomed.
The kiss had been twelve months in the making and neither of them wished it to end too quickly but nor did they think it wise to prolong it in such a public place, but despite that the kiss lasted a full five minutes before good sense prevailed.
They journeyed home in his car largely in silence as they both tried to calculate the significance of what had happened.
Neither of them could quite believe what they had done or the full implications, they just knew it was what they wanted and that it was every bit as electrifying as they had expected it to be.
When they arrived back in the village he parked in the lane a short distance from her house so they could talk but in the end they just kissed and resolved to talk about it more when she returned from Greece.
Which was where she Derek and the children were off to the following day, for two weeks.
Which would turn out to be the longest and quietest two weeks of his life because he took himself out of circulation for the two weeks, which should have given him the chance to recharge his batteries but in truth it just gave him more time to fret.
He was by profession a blogger of financial and investment advice so it did at least allowed him to not only catch up with his blogging, but get significantly ahead and store some copy for future submissions.
So when Emma returned from Greece he would be able to give her his undivided attention.
(Part 03)
Recent events in the wider world had provided Kevin with a wealth of material for his blog and he had managed to produce around two months’ worth of content for his blog.
Which was one of the reasons he thought it was time to end his self-imposed exile, the other one being Emma’s return from Greece the day before.
He stepped out into the sunlight to find the postman, Frank Worthing, walking up the path.
“Morning Mr. Riddett” He said “So you’re not dead then”
“No rumors’ of my demise have been greatly exaggerated” he paraphrased.
“Well at least you’re up and about in time for the Dinner Dance” he said
“What?”
“It’s the village dinner dance tomorrow” he said “You’d better hurry if you haven’t bought your ticket yet”
The tickets were on sale at the village pub, Tiplady’s Tipple, named after Josiah Tiplady who was the Lancashire Industrialist who made his fortune amongst the smoking factory chimneys of the North who purchased the old Trotwood Manor in the 19th century.
He caught sight of Emma sitting alone at one of the tables in the beer garden wearing a bright summer outfit.
He guessed she was probably waiting to meet friends for lunch.
He quickened his stride and as luck would have it, or so he thought, he caught her eye and he gave her a wave, but instead of waving back she gathered up her things and hurried away.
“That’s very odd” he thought
Kevin went inside and found the landlady, Marion White, behind the bar.
“Hello Kevin” she said
“Hi Marion”
“What can I get you?” she asked
“Do you have a ticket for the dinner dance?”
“Just the one?” she replied, “Not bringing a guest?”
“No just me”
“£50” she said and reached under the counter and produced a ticket.
In response he took out his wallet and paid her in cash.
He had a sandwich and a couple of drinks at the bar and went in search of Emma as he hadn’t spoken to her since she got back from Greece.
It was after two o’clock when he stepped back out into the sun and he spotted Emma again, this time outside the Post Office.
But this time he approached her on her blindside so she couldn’t run off again and when he was a few feet away he said
“I think you’ve been avoiding me”
Emma jumped and immediately became flustered
“No, no not at all” she corrected him
“I think you have” he repeated “why?”
“I don’t know what you mean” she said coolly
“Why?” he repeated
But Emma didn’t say anything for a full minute
“Please tell me Em” he entreated
“Because I feel guilty” She snapped
“You don’t need to feel guilty Emma, I kissed you remember”
“I don’t feel guilty because it happened” She said
“Then why?”
“Because I really enjoyed it, because it was so special, because it was the most electrifying kiss I’ve ever had”
Emma paused then continued
“And because I had dreamed of that moment for a full year”
Then she hurried away but stopped and turned after a few paces and said
“But most of all I feel guilty because I want to do it again, I think of nothing else than doing it again, for the entire two weeks in Greece I thought of nothing else than kissing you again”
(Part 04)
“Because I really enjoyed it, because it was so special, because it was the most electrifying kiss I’ve ever had”
Emma paused then continued
“And because I had dreamed of that moment for a full year”
Then she hurried away but stopped and turned after a few paces and said
“But most of all I feel guilty because I want to do it again, I think of nothing else than doing it again, for the entire two weeks in Greece I thought of nothing else than kissing you again”
And then she was gone, and he thought for a moment before he hurried after her
“Emma?” he called but she kept going so he pressed on after her instead and Emma was stood by her car when he caught up with her
“Do you mean it?” he asked
Silence
“Emma?”
“Yes” she replied reluctantly “but it can never happen again, it must never happen again”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a wife and a mother” she retorted
Then she added almost as an after thought
“And I love my husband”
She may have once but not so much now he thought.
Her husband was often away on business and when he wasn’t he was in the members bar at the Golf club, supposedly in his capacity of club captain, or in a bar or club or womanizing somewhere and as a result Kevin thought Emma was clearly lonely which in his opinion she didn’t deserve to be.
She carried on putting her purchases in the boot of her car, but he put his right hand on the edge of the boot, preventing her.
“Did you really keep thinking about that day?”
“Yes” she said
“Often?”
“Yes”
“All the time” he asked
She reddened then nodded
“Don’t make fun of me, don’t make fun of it” and she started to cry
“I’m not making fun of you” he said taking hold of her hand
“I’ve thought about it all the time” he said “I relive every second of it”
“I think of you, on the bridge on that perfect night” he added and she squeezed his hand
“So do I” she gasped and squeezed his hand again
They didn’t speak and the only sound was her steady breathing and the birdsong and he watched her, her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her tongue slightly moistening them as she breathed, but just then a group of shoppers walked by and the spell was broken and she let go of his hand and closed the boot.
“Please don’t avoid me Em”
“I won’t” she said, “I promise, but I meant what I said it can’t happen again no matter how much we want it to”
Then she drove away, but he would look for her the next day at the dinner dance and see what could be done.
(Part 05)
After Emma left Kevin she drove away from the village but she didn’t go home by the usual route, instead she drove up to Trotwood Manor and parked the car and then walked towards the Manor and paused before crossing the bridge over the culvert and turned to look across the lake and she was back in the moment of that electrifying kiss with the man she loved and she started to cry.
The dinner dance was being held at the Downshire Country Park Hotel which was situated equidistant between Great and Little Trotwood.
Since he watched Emma drive away he had had a very troubled day and a half and he was faced with the prospect of not ever winning her heart but also losing her as a friend.
After getting himself suited and booted he got a taxi to the Hotel and after he mingled his way through the crowd his worst fears were realized when he discovered Emma wasn’t there.
His first thought was to go straight home but he got hijacked by a bunch of regulars from the Tiplady’s Tipple and he missed his opportunity.
Four courses later during the lull before the dancing started he took his chance and snuck away all though by the time he got home he was regretting his decision as at home he had nothing to distract him from his desperate thoughts.
So he settled down in front of the TV with a large whisky and just before midnight the doorbell rang.
He was a bit miffed at the interruption, not that he was concentrating on what he was watching, he had no idea who it might be and he certainly wasn’t expecting anyone and whoever it was he was in no mood to entertain.
But when he opened the door he was surprised to see Emma standing on the doorstep in a blue cocktail dress
“Hello” he said with genuine surprise
“Hello Darling” she said, “Can I come in?”
“Of course” he said fussily “come in, come in”
Once inside she slipped off her shrug and walked through to the lounge.
Kevin followed on and thought she looked absolutely gorgeous in her party clothes.
As usual she was perfectly accessorized.
“You’re a bit overdressed” he observed
“I know” she said as she sat down “I was going to the dinner dance but…”
“But?” he asked
“I couldn’t face everyone quizzing me about Derek”
“About what?” he quizzed
“I’ve thrown him out” she replied, “And I don’t want him back, I’m moving on”
“I’m sorry,” he said inadequately
“I’m not” Emma said surprisingly “though it’s your fault”
“Then I should be sorry,” he admitted
“No, you opened my eyes and showed me that I’m still an attractive woman, still a sexy woman, Derek didn’t appreciate that, and I need to be with someone who sees me the way that you do”
Kevin raised my eyebrows,
“No that’s not right, I don’t need to be with “someone”” She corrected herself
“I need to be with you”
“Do you mean it?” he asked and knelt in front of her
“Yes, you have opened my eyes and my heart” she replied and then they sealed it with a kiss.
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the North and it’s in leafy Great Trotwood where our story begins.
When Kevin Riddett first moved to Great Trotwood he did so without the expectation of falling in love.
But when he was invited to a garden party at Trotwood Manor that was precisely what happened as he fell in love with Emma Ridgley the very first moment he laid eyes on her.
She was perfect, five foot four to his five eight, bobbed blonde hair, blue eyes a strong chin and a sporty physique.
But he barely finished saying hello when he noticed the wedding ring, which was to him what Kryptonite was to Superman.
He had a strict rule about adultery, a rule which he had never on a single occasion, broken.
He had always avoided fishing in someone else’s pond, no matter how attractive the body of water might be, so that was as far it went, they became friends and he admired her without making a move and valued her friendship.
Emma was married to Derek Ridgley, and thanks to the success of his business they lived in a large house in the village and they had two young children.
Emma loved her husband and they had been married for ten years but her husband was incapable in every conceivable way of loving her, he was a drunkard and a serial adulterer and yet she had remained faithful to him for the nine years since she found out he had betrayed her.
And even after she met Kevin whom she had fallen for she remained faithful, she was a married woman and to betray that was a big no-no for her, even if it was not so for her husband.
So a year went by and Emma and Kevin shared their platonic relationship, she saw the time she spent with him as a guilty pleasure, and he was content with the friendship of a married woman and refrained from making an adulteress of her.
They did the rounds of parties, flower shows, fetes, all the church events, weddings, christenings and funerals, every social event big and small and then it was time for the Trotwood Manor garden party again and all the usual faces were there with the conspicuous exception of Derek, so not for the first time Kevin was her escort and they mingled and circulated and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.
(Part 02)
It was time for the Trotwood Manor garden party again and all the usual faces were there with the conspicuous exception of Derek, so not for the first time Kevin was Emma’s escort and they mingled and circulated and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.
At the end of the day they left the party and headed towards the carpark and they paused before crossing the bridge over the culvert and turned to look across the lake and they were amazed at how natural the scene was when considering that little more than a 100 years earlier it was a boggy field.
That was before a Victorian industrialist named Josiah Tiplady, who, having made his fortune amongst the smoking factory chimneys of Lancashire, was seeking a country retreat in which to enjoy his fortune as well as the considerably fresher air, so he purchased the old Trotwood Manor.
He famously said he chose the Trotwood Estate as it had everything he was looking for, but not apparently a lake complete with fountains and an island bird sanctuary.
But as they viewed the scene on that glorious June evening they couldn’t have argued that it wasn’t money well spent.
“This is really beautiful” she said
He agreed and then they turned and continued onto the bridge and halfway across Kevin paused and turned to face Emma who had the lake behind her and said
“But now it’s even more beautiful”
And then he kissed her.
It was not a tentative or hesitant kiss and nor was it unwelcomed.
The kiss had been twelve months in the making and neither of them wished it to end too quickly but nor did they think it wise to prolong it in such a public place, but despite that the kiss lasted a full five minutes before good sense prevailed.
They journeyed home in his car largely in silence as they both tried to calculate the significance of what had happened.
Neither of them could quite believe what they had done or the full implications, they just knew it was what they wanted and that it was every bit as electrifying as they had expected it to be.
When they arrived back in the village he parked in the lane a short distance from her house so they could talk but in the end they just kissed and resolved to talk about it more when she returned from Greece.
Which was where she Derek and the children were off to the following day, for two weeks.
Which would turn out to be the longest and quietest two weeks of his life because he took himself out of circulation for the two weeks, which should have given him the chance to recharge his batteries but in truth it just gave him more time to fret.
He was by profession a blogger of financial and investment advice so it did at least allowed him to not only catch up with his blogging, but get significantly ahead and store some copy for future submissions.
So when Emma returned from Greece he would be able to give her his undivided attention.
(Part 03)
Recent events in the wider world had provided Kevin with a wealth of material for his blog and he had managed to produce around two months’ worth of content for his blog.
Which was one of the reasons he thought it was time to end his self-imposed exile, the other one being Emma’s return from Greece the day before.
He stepped out into the sunlight to find the postman, Frank Worthing, walking up the path.
“Morning Mr. Riddett” He said “So you’re not dead then”
“No rumors’ of my demise have been greatly exaggerated” he paraphrased.
“Well at least you’re up and about in time for the Dinner Dance” he said
“What?”
“It’s the village dinner dance tomorrow” he said “You’d better hurry if you haven’t bought your ticket yet”
The tickets were on sale at the village pub, Tiplady’s Tipple, named after Josiah Tiplady who was the Lancashire Industrialist who made his fortune amongst the smoking factory chimneys of the North who purchased the old Trotwood Manor in the 19th century.
He caught sight of Emma sitting alone at one of the tables in the beer garden wearing a bright summer outfit.
He guessed she was probably waiting to meet friends for lunch.
He quickened his stride and as luck would have it, or so he thought, he caught her eye and he gave her a wave, but instead of waving back she gathered up her things and hurried away.
“That’s very odd” he thought
Kevin went inside and found the landlady, Marion White, behind the bar.
“Hello Kevin” she said
“Hi Marion”
“What can I get you?” she asked
“Do you have a ticket for the dinner dance?”
“Just the one?” she replied, “Not bringing a guest?”
“No just me”
“£50” she said and reached under the counter and produced a ticket.
In response he took out his wallet and paid her in cash.
He had a sandwich and a couple of drinks at the bar and went in search of Emma as he hadn’t spoken to her since she got back from Greece.
It was after two o’clock when he stepped back out into the sun and he spotted Emma again, this time outside the Post Office.
But this time he approached her on her blindside so she couldn’t run off again and when he was a few feet away he said
“I think you’ve been avoiding me”
Emma jumped and immediately became flustered
“No, no not at all” she corrected him
“I think you have” he repeated “why?”
“I don’t know what you mean” she said coolly
“Why?” he repeated
But Emma didn’t say anything for a full minute
“Please tell me Em” he entreated
“Because I feel guilty” She snapped
“You don’t need to feel guilty Emma, I kissed you remember”
“I don’t feel guilty because it happened” She said
“Then why?”
“Because I really enjoyed it, because it was so special, because it was the most electrifying kiss I’ve ever had”
Emma paused then continued
“And because I had dreamed of that moment for a full year”
Then she hurried away but stopped and turned after a few paces and said
“But most of all I feel guilty because I want to do it again, I think of nothing else than doing it again, for the entire two weeks in Greece I thought of nothing else than kissing you again”
(Part 04)
“Because I really enjoyed it, because it was so special, because it was the most electrifying kiss I’ve ever had”
Emma paused then continued
“And because I had dreamed of that moment for a full year”
Then she hurried away but stopped and turned after a few paces and said
“But most of all I feel guilty because I want to do it again, I think of nothing else than doing it again, for the entire two weeks in Greece I thought of nothing else than kissing you again”
And then she was gone, and he thought for a moment before he hurried after her
“Emma?” he called but she kept going so he pressed on after her instead and Emma was stood by her car when he caught up with her
“Do you mean it?” he asked
Silence
“Emma?”
“Yes” she replied reluctantly “but it can never happen again, it must never happen again”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a wife and a mother” she retorted
Then she added almost as an after thought
“And I love my husband”
She may have once but not so much now he thought.
Her husband was often away on business and when he wasn’t he was in the members bar at the Golf club, supposedly in his capacity of club captain, or in a bar or club or womanizing somewhere and as a result Kevin thought Emma was clearly lonely which in his opinion she didn’t deserve to be.
She carried on putting her purchases in the boot of her car, but he put his right hand on the edge of the boot, preventing her.
“Did you really keep thinking about that day?”
“Yes” she said
“Often?”
“Yes”
“All the time” he asked
She reddened then nodded
“Don’t make fun of me, don’t make fun of it” and she started to cry
“I’m not making fun of you” he said taking hold of her hand
“I’ve thought about it all the time” he said “I relive every second of it”
“I think of you, on the bridge on that perfect night” he added and she squeezed his hand
“So do I” she gasped and squeezed his hand again
They didn’t speak and the only sound was her steady breathing and the birdsong and he watched her, her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her tongue slightly moistening them as she breathed, but just then a group of shoppers walked by and the spell was broken and she let go of his hand and closed the boot.
“Please don’t avoid me Em”
“I won’t” she said, “I promise, but I meant what I said it can’t happen again no matter how much we want it to”
Then she drove away, but he would look for her the next day at the dinner dance and see what could be done.
(Part 05)
After Emma left Kevin she drove away from the village but she didn’t go home by the usual route, instead she drove up to Trotwood Manor and parked the car and then walked towards the Manor and paused before crossing the bridge over the culvert and turned to look across the lake and she was back in the moment of that electrifying kiss with the man she loved and she started to cry.
The dinner dance was being held at the Downshire Country Park Hotel which was situated equidistant between Great and Little Trotwood.
Since he watched Emma drive away he had had a very troubled day and a half and he was faced with the prospect of not ever winning her heart but also losing her as a friend.
After getting himself suited and booted he got a taxi to the Hotel and after he mingled his way through the crowd his worst fears were realized when he discovered Emma wasn’t there.
His first thought was to go straight home but he got hijacked by a bunch of regulars from the Tiplady’s Tipple and he missed his opportunity.
Four courses later during the lull before the dancing started he took his chance and snuck away all though by the time he got home he was regretting his decision as at home he had nothing to distract him from his desperate thoughts.
So he settled down in front of the TV with a large whisky and just before midnight the doorbell rang.
He was a bit miffed at the interruption, not that he was concentrating on what he was watching, he had no idea who it might be and he certainly wasn’t expecting anyone and whoever it was he was in no mood to entertain.
But when he opened the door he was surprised to see Emma standing on the doorstep in a blue cocktail dress
“Hello” he said with genuine surprise
“Hello Darling” she said, “Can I come in?”
“Of course” he said fussily “come in, come in”
Once inside she slipped off her shrug and walked through to the lounge.
Kevin followed on and thought she looked absolutely gorgeous in her party clothes.
As usual she was perfectly accessorized.
“You’re a bit overdressed” he observed
“I know” she said as she sat down “I was going to the dinner dance but…”
“But?” he asked
“I couldn’t face everyone quizzing me about Derek”
“About what?” he quizzed
“I’ve thrown him out” she replied, “And I don’t want him back, I’m moving on”
“I’m sorry,” he said inadequately
“I’m not” Emma said surprisingly “though it’s your fault”
“Then I should be sorry,” he admitted
“No, you opened my eyes and showed me that I’m still an attractive woman, still a sexy woman, Derek didn’t appreciate that, and I need to be with someone who sees me the way that you do”
Kevin raised my eyebrows,
“No that’s not right, I don’t need to be with “someone”” She corrected herself
“I need to be with you”
“Do you mean it?” he asked and knelt in front of her
“Yes, you have opened my eyes and my heart” she replied and then they sealed it with a kiss.
Downshire Diary – (45) Misconception
(Part 01)
The Finchbottom Vale, which was nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, is those who are lucky enough to live there, thought of as the rose between two thorns.
The Vale was once a great wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East to Childean in the west and from Shallowfield in the south to Purplemere in the north.
But over the many centuries the vast majority had been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair.
There were only three small bodies of water left in the Vale now one in Mornington, one in Childean and third of course was Purplemere.
One of the inhabitants of Purplemere was Priscilla Abdul who was not someone you would describe as pretty, she had a rather large nose in the roman style, large round eyes, as black as coal and a small crooked mouth.
But Dave Maslen thought she was lovely, not that she had given him any cause to think that, in fact the opposite was true.
Pricilla was barely five feet tall, with ebony skin and long straight hair the colour of a raven’s wing and in addition to being short she was also stout.
She was born and bred in Purplemere but her ancestry was from far more exotic climes.
She was twenty seven years old but looked much older and she was the assistant chief librarian at the Purplemere Library and Pricilla lived alone in a one bedroom flat over the Vale Farm Pizza House.
She had hoped by her time of life that she would have had something a little better than that but life had not been that kind to her.
Pricilla had been on the way to a perfect life, she had a husband Marcus, a two bedroom house on a new development in Clarence and a baby on the way.
But apparently the universe wasn’t happy about that, because Marcus had an affair, but not some passing fancy, he fell in love with Pricilla’s sister, and so a year later she was divorced and she had lost her husband, the house, her sister and her baby and on the day when the story begins in earnest, she had just found out that her husband was now her brother in law.
Which was why the skin head, racist looking contract cleaner, that was always hanging round was getting on her nerves.
Dave Maslen was employed by “A Life of Grime”, who were contract cleaners and they undertook all kinds of cleaning, commercial and domestic and even had a crew dedicated to cleaning up crime scenes.
And he was not a skin head racist as Priscilla labelled him, he was completely devoid of hair, head, face and body as a result of a trauma suffered when he was a child when he fell from the top of a climbing frame when he was six.
(Part 02)
But apart from being a contract cleaner Dave Maslen was also a first class flirt, and his skin head was often his way in, because it was obviously not shaven, so inquisitive girls often asked him how he lost his hair and when they did he knew he was in with a chance so he really enjoyed flirting.
He had had some degree of success with girls that way but he hadn’t found a keeper yet.
But he thought Pricilla had great potential.
Pricilla didn’t realise that the bald cleaner’s interest in her was as a dinner date, she had assumed because of the way he looked and the fact that he did menial work, that he was ill-educated and a member of the National Front.
She had taken what she saw at face value.
He was bald because of a childhood mishap and had she looked at him closely she would have noticed he had no eyebrows either and it is not common practice for skin heads to shave them off.
He was also far from ill-educated he had 10 GCSE’s and 4 A levels and would have gone to University had his father not died.
He gave up his aspirations to take over the bread winner role in the household, because his mum has MS so she was unable to work.
He did “menial” work because that was all he could get at the time, but apart from the cleaning he also worked at Purplemere Garden Centre and at the Vale Farm Pizza House which was where he got his first glimpse of the smile she kept so well hidden at the library.
Of course he didn’t know that she thought he was some sort of a Nazi based on his appearance.
If he had taken her on face value he wouldn’t have given her a second thought but he hadn’t, he saw past the grumpy exterior to a sweeter softer centre.
But his problem was getting to talk to her, whenever he got close she would scurry away in the opposite direction like a beetle.
She didn’t mean to be judgmental about him she just couldn’t help it, everyone else there said he was really nice.
He was good at his job but he just scared her a bit, and he was a good looking lad with a well-toned body and a nice smile and he was no more than 23 years old.
It all came to a head when she had had a very busy week and by the end of it she was exhausted.
She was not in the best of moods either, she was a bit miffed that she had heard from her ex-husband and he was complaining that his new wife was very upset because Pricilla was still refusing to talk to her.
She was also hot and bothered as it had been a hot day and because they had to wear uniform at the library including black tights and her legs were sweaty.
Pricilla didn’t much like sweaty legs so she was looking forward to getting home and removing her black tights and letting some air to her legs.
She was so hot and tired that she couldn’t be bothered to cook so she decided to get a pizza.
(Part 03)
She walked into the Vale Farm Pizza House and was greeted by Roberto Obertelli, Roberto and his sister in law Annette owned the franchise and were also her landlords.
“Pricilla” he said flamboyantly and kissed her cheeks
“How are you?”
“I’ve been better to tell the truth” she said and then she ordered her pizza and paid for it.
As she was putting her card away she suddenly felt lightheaded and almost crumpled.
Roberto rushed to her and steadied her until she regained her composure.
“You go upstairs” he said and “I’ll send someone up with your pizza”
“I’ll be fine” she protested but Roberto was having none of it and insisted.
She did as she was told and went upstairs to her flat and really wasn’t feeling very well at all, not only did she have sweaty legs, she was sweating all over.
She opened her front door and went inside and despite the fact she was sweating profusely she shivered.
She didn’t want to sit down because she feared she may not get up again so she just pottered around for a bit until there was a knock on the door.
She walked slowly over to it and opened it.
“Oh God” she exclaimed “What are you doing here?”
And before Dave had the chance to answer she had passed out and he had to act with lightning speed to catch her before she hit the floor.
He settled her on the sofa and then phoned downstairs for Annette.
When she appeared she took a look at her and said
“Let’s get her into bed”
Dave nodded and then scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed then he took her shoes off and then pulled back the duvet and they had her ready to lay down.
At that point Annette looked at him with raised eyebrows which he took as his signal to leave.
“I’ll wait outside”
A few minutes later she called him back and when he went in she had the patient laying down under the duvet.
And on the end of the bed there was a pile of clothes Annette had removed
“Can you sit with her while I call the doctor?” she asked
“Yes of course”
Two day later Pricilla’s fever broke and Annette was sitting by her bed when she woke up.
“Where’s that ghastly man?” She shouted looking around the room
“The racist one”
“Who?” Annette asked and tried to calm her down
“He brought a pizza and was all smiley” she said with alarm
“Dave do you mean?” she asked and described him
“Yes him” Pricilla barked
“He’s gone home to change” Annette said “he’ll be back later, he sat with you all weekend”
“You mean you paid him to sit here all weekend” Pricilla said contemptuously
“Not at all, in fact he insisted he do it for nothing” she replied
“Why would he do that?” she asked suspiciously
“Because he’s a really nice lad” she replied “And he likes you, why don’t you like him?”
“I don’t like skin heads on principle” she replied and Annette laughed
“He’s not a skinhead, well he is a skinhead obviously but he’s a natural skinhead”
“What do you mean?”
“He looks like that because of a childhood accident” Annette explained
“Oh” she said “So he’s not a Nazi then”
“No” Annette replied and smiled “Now I think you should rest”
“Ok” she complied
“Annette” she called as she was closing the door
“Yes”
“Would you ask him to come and sit with me again?” she asked
“Of course” Annette replied and smiled
The Finchbottom Vale, which was nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, is those who are lucky enough to live there, thought of as the rose between two thorns.
The Vale was once a great wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East to Childean in the west and from Shallowfield in the south to Purplemere in the north.
But over the many centuries the vast majority had been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair.
There were only three small bodies of water left in the Vale now one in Mornington, one in Childean and third of course was Purplemere.
One of the inhabitants of Purplemere was Priscilla Abdul who was not someone you would describe as pretty, she had a rather large nose in the roman style, large round eyes, as black as coal and a small crooked mouth.
But Dave Maslen thought she was lovely, not that she had given him any cause to think that, in fact the opposite was true.
Pricilla was barely five feet tall, with ebony skin and long straight hair the colour of a raven’s wing and in addition to being short she was also stout.
She was born and bred in Purplemere but her ancestry was from far more exotic climes.
She was twenty seven years old but looked much older and she was the assistant chief librarian at the Purplemere Library and Pricilla lived alone in a one bedroom flat over the Vale Farm Pizza House.
She had hoped by her time of life that she would have had something a little better than that but life had not been that kind to her.
Pricilla had been on the way to a perfect life, she had a husband Marcus, a two bedroom house on a new development in Clarence and a baby on the way.
But apparently the universe wasn’t happy about that, because Marcus had an affair, but not some passing fancy, he fell in love with Pricilla’s sister, and so a year later she was divorced and she had lost her husband, the house, her sister and her baby and on the day when the story begins in earnest, she had just found out that her husband was now her brother in law.
Which was why the skin head, racist looking contract cleaner, that was always hanging round was getting on her nerves.
Dave Maslen was employed by “A Life of Grime”, who were contract cleaners and they undertook all kinds of cleaning, commercial and domestic and even had a crew dedicated to cleaning up crime scenes.
And he was not a skin head racist as Priscilla labelled him, he was completely devoid of hair, head, face and body as a result of a trauma suffered when he was a child when he fell from the top of a climbing frame when he was six.
(Part 02)
But apart from being a contract cleaner Dave Maslen was also a first class flirt, and his skin head was often his way in, because it was obviously not shaven, so inquisitive girls often asked him how he lost his hair and when they did he knew he was in with a chance so he really enjoyed flirting.
He had had some degree of success with girls that way but he hadn’t found a keeper yet.
But he thought Pricilla had great potential.
Pricilla didn’t realise that the bald cleaner’s interest in her was as a dinner date, she had assumed because of the way he looked and the fact that he did menial work, that he was ill-educated and a member of the National Front.
She had taken what she saw at face value.
He was bald because of a childhood mishap and had she looked at him closely she would have noticed he had no eyebrows either and it is not common practice for skin heads to shave them off.
He was also far from ill-educated he had 10 GCSE’s and 4 A levels and would have gone to University had his father not died.
He gave up his aspirations to take over the bread winner role in the household, because his mum has MS so she was unable to work.
He did “menial” work because that was all he could get at the time, but apart from the cleaning he also worked at Purplemere Garden Centre and at the Vale Farm Pizza House which was where he got his first glimpse of the smile she kept so well hidden at the library.
Of course he didn’t know that she thought he was some sort of a Nazi based on his appearance.
If he had taken her on face value he wouldn’t have given her a second thought but he hadn’t, he saw past the grumpy exterior to a sweeter softer centre.
But his problem was getting to talk to her, whenever he got close she would scurry away in the opposite direction like a beetle.
She didn’t mean to be judgmental about him she just couldn’t help it, everyone else there said he was really nice.
He was good at his job but he just scared her a bit, and he was a good looking lad with a well-toned body and a nice smile and he was no more than 23 years old.
It all came to a head when she had had a very busy week and by the end of it she was exhausted.
She was not in the best of moods either, she was a bit miffed that she had heard from her ex-husband and he was complaining that his new wife was very upset because Pricilla was still refusing to talk to her.
She was also hot and bothered as it had been a hot day and because they had to wear uniform at the library including black tights and her legs were sweaty.
Pricilla didn’t much like sweaty legs so she was looking forward to getting home and removing her black tights and letting some air to her legs.
She was so hot and tired that she couldn’t be bothered to cook so she decided to get a pizza.
(Part 03)
She walked into the Vale Farm Pizza House and was greeted by Roberto Obertelli, Roberto and his sister in law Annette owned the franchise and were also her landlords.
“Pricilla” he said flamboyantly and kissed her cheeks
“How are you?”
“I’ve been better to tell the truth” she said and then she ordered her pizza and paid for it.
As she was putting her card away she suddenly felt lightheaded and almost crumpled.
Roberto rushed to her and steadied her until she regained her composure.
“You go upstairs” he said and “I’ll send someone up with your pizza”
“I’ll be fine” she protested but Roberto was having none of it and insisted.
She did as she was told and went upstairs to her flat and really wasn’t feeling very well at all, not only did she have sweaty legs, she was sweating all over.
She opened her front door and went inside and despite the fact she was sweating profusely she shivered.
She didn’t want to sit down because she feared she may not get up again so she just pottered around for a bit until there was a knock on the door.
She walked slowly over to it and opened it.
“Oh God” she exclaimed “What are you doing here?”
And before Dave had the chance to answer she had passed out and he had to act with lightning speed to catch her before she hit the floor.
He settled her on the sofa and then phoned downstairs for Annette.
When she appeared she took a look at her and said
“Let’s get her into bed”
Dave nodded and then scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed then he took her shoes off and then pulled back the duvet and they had her ready to lay down.
At that point Annette looked at him with raised eyebrows which he took as his signal to leave.
“I’ll wait outside”
A few minutes later she called him back and when he went in she had the patient laying down under the duvet.
And on the end of the bed there was a pile of clothes Annette had removed
“Can you sit with her while I call the doctor?” she asked
“Yes of course”
Two day later Pricilla’s fever broke and Annette was sitting by her bed when she woke up.
“Where’s that ghastly man?” She shouted looking around the room
“The racist one”
“Who?” Annette asked and tried to calm her down
“He brought a pizza and was all smiley” she said with alarm
“Dave do you mean?” she asked and described him
“Yes him” Pricilla barked
“He’s gone home to change” Annette said “he’ll be back later, he sat with you all weekend”
“You mean you paid him to sit here all weekend” Pricilla said contemptuously
“Not at all, in fact he insisted he do it for nothing” she replied
“Why would he do that?” she asked suspiciously
“Because he’s a really nice lad” she replied “And he likes you, why don’t you like him?”
“I don’t like skin heads on principle” she replied and Annette laughed
“He’s not a skinhead, well he is a skinhead obviously but he’s a natural skinhead”
“What do you mean?”
“He looks like that because of a childhood accident” Annette explained
“Oh” she said “So he’s not a Nazi then”
“No” Annette replied and smiled “Now I think you should rest”
“Ok” she complied
“Annette” she called as she was closing the door
“Yes”
“Would you ask him to come and sit with me again?” she asked
“Of course” Annette replied and smiled
Wednesday 26 April 2017
Downshire Diary – (44) Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed
(Part 01)
The village of Clarence is in the Finchbottom Vale, which was nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
The Vale was once a great wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East to Childean in the west and from Shallowfield in the south to Purplemere in the north.
But over the many centuries the vast majority had been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair.
There were only three small bodies of water left in the Vale now one in Mornington, one in Childean and third of course was Purplemere, which is where Clarence is situated and where our story takes place.
Lorraine Tonks was a pretty girl in her early twenties, five foot nine, ultra slim with flame red hair, a pale complexion and cutely freckled skin and she looked like a breadth of wind might blow her away.
But she was a very strong character and full of self-confidence.
But it hadn’t always been that way, when she was a young girl she and her brother Mark lived in the village of Clarence which was a mile or so from Purplemere and she was as timid as little bird.
The sixteen year old Lorraine was also slender and pale and was even smaller than the woman she would become.
The young Lorraine was every bit as pretty as her 20 something counterpart but was completely unaware of it and as a result she lacked any self-confidence whatsoever and was painfully shy.
In addition the sweet sixteen version was completely incapable of even talking to boys and had no notion of flirting.
So therefore she was sweet sixteen and had never been kissed, but she had lost her heart.
The recipient of her affections was Gary Short who she had had a crush on since Easter.
Fifty percent of the village of Clarence was full of posh houses and posh people and as it was a village everyone knew each other’s business.
Gary’s family were new to Clarence and the two of them had met for the first time at the Easter service at St Mary of Bethany church.
But despite the fact that they seemed to hit it off from the first moment he never appeared to show any interest and she had begun to think he might be gay as she had made no headway with him and
Lorraine was powerless to influence the situation due to her shyness so at the beginning of July she confessed to her best friend Louise that she fancied Gary and Louise pledged to help her but there was a fly in the ointment, Lou was going on holiday for two weeks.
The girls had been best friends since preschool and were normally quite inseparable so when her friend went away it was like losing a limb.
(Part 02)
Unlike the ultra-self-confident Louise, her best friend Lorraine was painfully shy.
Lou was self-assured and pretty and she knew it whereas Loz was not only shy but socially awkward and full of self-doubt, although she was just as pretty as her friend but had no idea of the fact.
Louise was the driving force in their friendship, bold and bubbly and being with her made Lorraine feel more confident, daring to do things she would never do alone, living life on her bold friend’s coat tails and without her friend she floundered.
Which was evidenced by the rather pathetically forlorn creature who was ambling along Old Farm Lane towards home.
She had her flame red hair tied up, which was mostly hidden beneath a broad brimmed floppy hat.
She was wearing a flowery green dress, with a contrasting pashmina over her shoulders and she clutching a garishly patterned bag to her middle.
The Tonks and the Short families both lived in Old Farm Lane, but at opposite ends.
Lorraine was staring down at her flip flops as she was shuffling and scuffing along and as she was passing the short’s house, Oakbank, Mrs. Short called out to her.
“Hi Lorraine”
And Lorraine almost jumped out of her skin
“Oh Hello” she said blushing as she tried to catch her breath.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” Mrs. Short said
“It’s ok, I was miles away” Lorraine said
“Are you missing Louise?” she asked
“Yes” she sighed “and she’s only been gone a few days”
“So what have you been up to today?” Mrs. Short enquired
“I’ve been to a BBQ at Aunt Jane’s” she answered, “I left early because I caught the sun a bit”
She lifted the pashmina off her shoulder so she could see.
“Ouch, have you put something on it?”
She asked and Lorraine shook her head
“That’s going to burn if you don’t” Mrs. S told her “come to mine and I’ll put some after sun on”
“Ok thank you” she said cheerfully hoping she might get to see Gary.
Mrs. Short opened the door and let Lorraine in, and the house was cool and quiet, so apparently Gary wasn’t home.
“You have the wrong complexion for sitting in the sun” she said
“I know” Lorraine agreed with resignation
“With your lovely pale skin you need to stay in the shadows” she said and Lorraine blushed at the compliment.
Once inside Mrs. Short showed her into the kitchen, she’d never been in the house before.
She gently took the pashmina from her shoulders and threw it on the pack of a chair
“Sit down while I get the after sun”
When she returned she was sitting facing the garden and her floppy hat was lying on the table.
“This might hurt a little, but let me know if you want me to stop” Mrs. S said
“Ok” she answered meekly and Mrs. S began to gently rub in the lotion and unknown to either of them Gary was looking on from a place of safety.
“How does that feel?” she asked
“Cool” she replied and while his mum rubbed lotion onto the shoulders and neck of the girl he wanted to be his girl he wished he could change places with his mum, but then the show was over.
“Well that should stop you burning” Mrs. Short said as she replaced the cap on the lotion.
“Thank you” Lorraine said and then continued on her way home.
(Part 03)
It was a beautiful July day and Lorraine was approaching the end of Old Farm Lane, which led to the back of her house, when she saw Gary coming the other way.
She had her flame red hair cascading onto her shoulders, which was catching the sun as she walked.
She was wearing a floral green dress and was carrying a garishly patterned bag on her shoulder and Lorraine was staring down at her flip flops and shuffled and scuffed along the lane.
She threw the odd glance at him in his baggy t-shirt and knee length shorts and found herself getting redder and redder the closer they got to each other.
The grown up Lorraine was ultra-confident, self-assured, pretty and she knew it, while sweet sixteen Lorraine was shy, socially awkward and full of self-doubt, still equally pretty but had no idea of the fact.
The problem was that Gary wasn’t any more confident than she was so it was difficult to imagine how anything was going to come out of any social encounter.
Neither of them were capable of progressing the conversation to the conclusion they both wanted.
Which was evidenced by the two rather pathetically forlorn creatures who were ambling towards each other.
So it was when they got within a few feet of each other he said
“Hi Lorraine”
And he almost made her jump out of her skin
“Hello” she said blushing as she tried to catch her breath.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said
“That’s ok, I was miles away” Lorraine said
“Are you going home?” he asked
“Yes” she replied “and you?”
And that was the tone and extent of the conversation and it looked quite possibly that this chance meeting would end up being wasted, as had every other previous one had, as the fresh faced pair were so clueless and incapable of taking full advantage of a serendipitous meeting.
Lacking the gumption to think of anything else to say they were about to go their separate ways when fate took a hand when a mutual friend, Emma, appeared in the lane.
“What are you two up to?” she enquired
“Nothing” Lorraine answered
“Come to mine then” she said “Dads put the swing ball up”
Lorraine and Gary looked at each other and smiled
“I’m in” She said
“Me too” added Gary
And they both smiled again mainly out of relief at getting the “Get out of jail free card” from Emma when fate took a hand.
Serendipity struck again in Emma’s back garden when the swing ball struck Lorraine full in the face and to everyone’s surprise, including his own Gary said
“Would you like me to kiss it better?”
Of course she did but was too shy to let him however by the end of that day they had secured their first date together and when he walked her home he did kiss her.
It wasn’t the most memorable of kisses, but it was a milestone for both of them, and in the moment they thought it breathtakingly good.
However in time they surpassed it as for the whole of the summer they were together and they became much more proficient.
And that proficiency continued over the months, but by the time the Christmas holidays came around they had indeed become more accomplished, but then Gary decided to spread his proficiency around so she took her lips elsewhere.
The village of Clarence is in the Finchbottom Vale, which was nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
The Vale was once a great wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East to Childean in the west and from Shallowfield in the south to Purplemere in the north.
But over the many centuries the vast majority had been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair.
There were only three small bodies of water left in the Vale now one in Mornington, one in Childean and third of course was Purplemere, which is where Clarence is situated and where our story takes place.
Lorraine Tonks was a pretty girl in her early twenties, five foot nine, ultra slim with flame red hair, a pale complexion and cutely freckled skin and she looked like a breadth of wind might blow her away.
But she was a very strong character and full of self-confidence.
But it hadn’t always been that way, when she was a young girl she and her brother Mark lived in the village of Clarence which was a mile or so from Purplemere and she was as timid as little bird.
The sixteen year old Lorraine was also slender and pale and was even smaller than the woman she would become.
The young Lorraine was every bit as pretty as her 20 something counterpart but was completely unaware of it and as a result she lacked any self-confidence whatsoever and was painfully shy.
In addition the sweet sixteen version was completely incapable of even talking to boys and had no notion of flirting.
So therefore she was sweet sixteen and had never been kissed, but she had lost her heart.
The recipient of her affections was Gary Short who she had had a crush on since Easter.
Fifty percent of the village of Clarence was full of posh houses and posh people and as it was a village everyone knew each other’s business.
Gary’s family were new to Clarence and the two of them had met for the first time at the Easter service at St Mary of Bethany church.
But despite the fact that they seemed to hit it off from the first moment he never appeared to show any interest and she had begun to think he might be gay as she had made no headway with him and
Lorraine was powerless to influence the situation due to her shyness so at the beginning of July she confessed to her best friend Louise that she fancied Gary and Louise pledged to help her but there was a fly in the ointment, Lou was going on holiday for two weeks.
The girls had been best friends since preschool and were normally quite inseparable so when her friend went away it was like losing a limb.
(Part 02)
Unlike the ultra-self-confident Louise, her best friend Lorraine was painfully shy.
Lou was self-assured and pretty and she knew it whereas Loz was not only shy but socially awkward and full of self-doubt, although she was just as pretty as her friend but had no idea of the fact.
Louise was the driving force in their friendship, bold and bubbly and being with her made Lorraine feel more confident, daring to do things she would never do alone, living life on her bold friend’s coat tails and without her friend she floundered.
Which was evidenced by the rather pathetically forlorn creature who was ambling along Old Farm Lane towards home.
She had her flame red hair tied up, which was mostly hidden beneath a broad brimmed floppy hat.
She was wearing a flowery green dress, with a contrasting pashmina over her shoulders and she clutching a garishly patterned bag to her middle.
The Tonks and the Short families both lived in Old Farm Lane, but at opposite ends.
Lorraine was staring down at her flip flops as she was shuffling and scuffing along and as she was passing the short’s house, Oakbank, Mrs. Short called out to her.
“Hi Lorraine”
And Lorraine almost jumped out of her skin
“Oh Hello” she said blushing as she tried to catch her breath.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” Mrs. Short said
“It’s ok, I was miles away” Lorraine said
“Are you missing Louise?” she asked
“Yes” she sighed “and she’s only been gone a few days”
“So what have you been up to today?” Mrs. Short enquired
“I’ve been to a BBQ at Aunt Jane’s” she answered, “I left early because I caught the sun a bit”
She lifted the pashmina off her shoulder so she could see.
“Ouch, have you put something on it?”
She asked and Lorraine shook her head
“That’s going to burn if you don’t” Mrs. S told her “come to mine and I’ll put some after sun on”
“Ok thank you” she said cheerfully hoping she might get to see Gary.
Mrs. Short opened the door and let Lorraine in, and the house was cool and quiet, so apparently Gary wasn’t home.
“You have the wrong complexion for sitting in the sun” she said
“I know” Lorraine agreed with resignation
“With your lovely pale skin you need to stay in the shadows” she said and Lorraine blushed at the compliment.
Once inside Mrs. Short showed her into the kitchen, she’d never been in the house before.
She gently took the pashmina from her shoulders and threw it on the pack of a chair
“Sit down while I get the after sun”
When she returned she was sitting facing the garden and her floppy hat was lying on the table.
“This might hurt a little, but let me know if you want me to stop” Mrs. S said
“Ok” she answered meekly and Mrs. S began to gently rub in the lotion and unknown to either of them Gary was looking on from a place of safety.
“How does that feel?” she asked
“Cool” she replied and while his mum rubbed lotion onto the shoulders and neck of the girl he wanted to be his girl he wished he could change places with his mum, but then the show was over.
“Well that should stop you burning” Mrs. Short said as she replaced the cap on the lotion.
“Thank you” Lorraine said and then continued on her way home.
(Part 03)
It was a beautiful July day and Lorraine was approaching the end of Old Farm Lane, which led to the back of her house, when she saw Gary coming the other way.
She had her flame red hair cascading onto her shoulders, which was catching the sun as she walked.
She was wearing a floral green dress and was carrying a garishly patterned bag on her shoulder and Lorraine was staring down at her flip flops and shuffled and scuffed along the lane.
She threw the odd glance at him in his baggy t-shirt and knee length shorts and found herself getting redder and redder the closer they got to each other.
The grown up Lorraine was ultra-confident, self-assured, pretty and she knew it, while sweet sixteen Lorraine was shy, socially awkward and full of self-doubt, still equally pretty but had no idea of the fact.
The problem was that Gary wasn’t any more confident than she was so it was difficult to imagine how anything was going to come out of any social encounter.
Neither of them were capable of progressing the conversation to the conclusion they both wanted.
Which was evidenced by the two rather pathetically forlorn creatures who were ambling towards each other.
So it was when they got within a few feet of each other he said
“Hi Lorraine”
And he almost made her jump out of her skin
“Hello” she said blushing as she tried to catch her breath.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said
“That’s ok, I was miles away” Lorraine said
“Are you going home?” he asked
“Yes” she replied “and you?”
And that was the tone and extent of the conversation and it looked quite possibly that this chance meeting would end up being wasted, as had every other previous one had, as the fresh faced pair were so clueless and incapable of taking full advantage of a serendipitous meeting.
Lacking the gumption to think of anything else to say they were about to go their separate ways when fate took a hand when a mutual friend, Emma, appeared in the lane.
“What are you two up to?” she enquired
“Nothing” Lorraine answered
“Come to mine then” she said “Dads put the swing ball up”
Lorraine and Gary looked at each other and smiled
“I’m in” She said
“Me too” added Gary
And they both smiled again mainly out of relief at getting the “Get out of jail free card” from Emma when fate took a hand.
Serendipity struck again in Emma’s back garden when the swing ball struck Lorraine full in the face and to everyone’s surprise, including his own Gary said
“Would you like me to kiss it better?”
Of course she did but was too shy to let him however by the end of that day they had secured their first date together and when he walked her home he did kiss her.
It wasn’t the most memorable of kisses, but it was a milestone for both of them, and in the moment they thought it breathtakingly good.
However in time they surpassed it as for the whole of the summer they were together and they became much more proficient.
And that proficiency continued over the months, but by the time the Christmas holidays came around they had indeed become more accomplished, but then Gary decided to spread his proficiency around so she took her lips elsewhere.
Downshire Diary – (43) Mystery Girl
(Part 01)
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the North and it’s in leafy Roespring where our story begins.
It was after the second exhausting day of reveling, when brother and sister in law, Roberto and Annette Obertelli were exiting the front door of the Dancing Cavalier Hotel in Roespring.
They had been attending the wedding of close friends and what had been expected to be a classy, cultured and refined weekend had turned into a raucous Hooley involving dancing on tables and urinating in fountains.
The pair had just performed a kind of walk of shame through the lobby causing all heads to turn in their direction.
Among their audience was an array of faces baring expressions, ranging from disgust, all the way through jealously to envy and even admiration, but from the management the universal tone was disgust.
They emerged through the door into the sunlight looking red faced and sheepish.
Having had a lobby full of eyes on them as they left the hotel they felt relieved to escape into the fresh air where they turned to each other and burst out laughing.
Unfortunately they got tarred with the same brush as the worst offenders when they had actually been quite well behaved in comparison, admittedly Annette had been one of the first to start dancing on the tables but that was the full extent of her involvement and as Roberto was a bit of a lightweight when it came to drinking he had already passed out on a sofa in the sunroom by the time the worst of the shenanigan’s began.
“Well that’s one Hotel I can never stay at again” Annette said.
“Well it’s not my fault is it?” he said indignantly
“I’m not the one who danced on the table like Siouxsie and the Banshees”
Annette blushed to her roots and buried her face in his chest.
This was not the way she normally behaved she was normally a rather boring and ordinary woman.
But the weekend was the first time she had let her hair down in the two years since she became a widow.
Fraternal twins Roberto and Gianluca Obertelli owned the Vale Farm Pizza House franchises in Purplemere, having inherited it from their father.
Gianluca and Annette were married for five years when at the age of 31 he was tragically killed when his motorcycle collided with a HGV that failed to stop at a red light.
He died instantly.
Roberto was 33 now and he loved Annette with all his heart but only as a sister and she felt the same way so it was only natural that they continued to run the business between them.
(Part 02)
Unlike his brother Gianluca, Roberto had not found someone to share his life and since his death his wife Annette had not sought another partner.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been looking it was just that he hadn’t found someone to fit his ideal.
Although the night before at the wedding reception he had met someone who aroused his curiosity and got his attention.
The wedding party was held in the King Charles Wing but there was another party in the Prince Rupert Suite, which was an old fashioned fancy dress masked ball and it was from the latter that he imagined her to have come.
She was a small girl in a Georgian gown of powder blue and she wore a powdered high hair wig of the day and a sequined mask to conceal her face.
There was little conversation but what there was, was filled with honeyed words of seduction.
But apart from the copious flirting they danced on the terrace and even shared a kiss but then he lost her in the crowd and try as he might he couldn’t track her down which was when he turned to drink and ended up passed out on a sofa.
They boarded the train at Roespring Station and made themselves comfortable.
They had barely left the station before Annette was asleep with her head on his shoulder.
A long weekend away with an excess of food, drink and very little sleep had clearly taken its toll.
They had made the decision to go by train because they didn’t think either of them would be up to the drive home and they were right.
While Annette was sleeping against his shoulder he indulged in a spot of people watching.
The carriage was very quiet and sparsely populated and most of the passengers were at the other end.
But there were two girls sat diagonally across the aisle from the Obertelli’s, a tall willowy blonde with outstandingly stellar legs and a small mousy thing.
The blonde was very pretty but was very aware of the fact and she positively preened when she realized Roberto was admiring her legs.
She crossed her legs slowly and deliberately so he could marvel at them further but then he noticed on the newly exposed inner thigh a tattoo of an arrow and beneath it were the words “this way up”.
It was like an ice cold shower to him.
“How very classy” he thought and it was a huge turn off for him, so he turned his attention to the quiet mousy girl sitting in the corner.
She had long straight brown hair and a rather plain, heavily freckled face, but lovely blue eyes, a cute nose and a thin-lipped smile.
She was short, body shape undetermined due to a rather shapeless baggy sweater, so it was difficult for him to tell which way she was facing let alone see her figure.
Her legs were nice though, ensconced in black shabby tights and she had tiny feet which was always a bonus for him.
He had trouble fixing her age though and he thought she could have been anywhere between 20 and 30.
The mouse ticked quite a few boxes for Roberto.
The leggy blonde on seeing his transfer of allegiance huffed quite loudly and flounced off to another part of the carriage.
(Part 03)
Roberto continued to appraise the mouse who seemed quite pleased with herself that she had lured his attention away from “legs” and that the blonde had thrown in the towel, in fact she took on an air of aloofness on recognizing her success in stealing his attentions, so he and the mouse spent the next forty minutes exchanging glances, in between admiring the wonderful scenery, his of curiosity with a hint of lechery, and hers of coquettishness, in fact they continued until they were approaching Purplemere.
Which was when his thoughts turned back to Annette, and he woke her and helped her gather her things together.
As they approached the station he got up and carried the bags to the door, and she followed close behind, the train stopped and Roberto turned to give the mouse one final look but she wasn’t there
The doors opened and he stepped out onto the platform and headed towards the taxis.
As the taxi left the rank Annette said
“You seemed very interested in that girl”
“What girl?” he asked
“The little brunette”
“That’s because I thought I recognized her” he said
“Oh really?” she retorted mockingly
“Yes there was something familiar about her but I couldn’t put my finger on it” he explained
“A likely story” Annette said
“No honestly” he insisted “Maybe she’s a customer”
“Whatever” she said and laughed
Roberto gave up protesting, but it was true he had recognized her, but there was also something about her which was why he couldn’t stop looking at her.
The taxi dropped Annette first in Middle Gracewood and Roberto arrived home in Upper Gracewood about five minutes later and after a long awaited cup of coffee he headed off to the bathroom for a much needed shower.
The shower was wonderful and he felt refreshed and invigorated so he threw on his toweling robe and went back to the kitchen for another coffee.
Steaming coffee in hand he walked through to the lounge, the room was dominated by a large L shaped leather sofa with a large square matching foot stool which was sitting in its default position i.e. in the right angle of the sofa.
The room was quite stuffy so he put his coffee down on the table and walked across and threw open the French doors but he left the curtains drawn as the sun was full on, on that side of the house at that time of day, then he sat on the sofa and almost immediately the long blinks began to set in and within minutes he was lying stretched out on the cool expanse of leather and a few minutes later he was fast asleep.
He had no idea how long he had slept but when he began to stir the room was in darkness and he thought he heard the sound of bare feet padding on the laminate floor and there was the smell of perfume, subtle but distinct, and it was familiar, Lily of the Valley.
(Part 04)
He had no idea how long he had slept but when he began to stir the room was in darkness and he thought he heard the sound of bare feet padding on the laminate floor and there was the smell of perfume, subtle but distinct, and it was familiar, Lily of the Valley.
He lay there for an indeterminate time drifting in and out sleep with his mind full of little dreams of the Georgian doll in the powder blue dress he had danced with on Saturday Night that ended with a kiss.
And the dream was so vivid he could feel the light touch of soft lips on his and he could smell her perfume.
It felt so real and the kiss so seductive, then he dreamt that he felt, no not dreamt, he felt the pressure of her mouth on his and all the ensuing passion that went along with it.
Roberto opened his eyes but in the darkness he had no idea who was kissing him but to be perfectly honest at that precise moment he didn’t really care he just didn’t want them to stop, but when he moved to envelope his blissful assailant in his arms she broke away and was giggling as she went padding across the floor and out into the garden.
From the sofa he could only see a vague figure in the gloom but couldn’t tell who it was whose lips had been kissing him.
“Wait” he said “don’t go”
He jumped up from his recumbent position and headed towards the French doors and tried to find his assailant in the garden.
The problem was it was a very large garden, with trees at the end and an abundance of shrubbery, and it was dark.
He didn’t even know if she was still in the garden and as he was still wearing his bath robe and nothing else, he couldn’t go searching further afield.
Roberto walked up and down the garden for about ten minutes before he got dispirited and headed back towards the house.
He sighed as he reached the French doors and then when he pushed the curtain aside he saw her
“Were you looking for me?” the mouse from the train said
“It’s you” he exclaimed “and you’re the girl from the masked ball”
“Are you disappointed?” she asked coyly
“Not of course not” he said emphatically “but why didn’t you say anything on the train?”
“Because I wanted to know if you liked me as me and not just the fantasy girl in the fancy dress” she explained
“And did I pass?” he asked as he walked towards her
“I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t” she replied and then they kissed.
“I don’t even know your name” he said when the kiss ended
“Dora” she said “Dora Green”
“Nice to meet you Dora, I’m Roberto Obertelli”
“Now we’ve been properly introduced can we get back to the kissing?” she asked
“Absolutely” he concurred
“So how did you know where I lived?” he asked as they sat on the sofa
“Because we’re neighbour’s” she replied
“We are?”
“Yes I live in the village” she said
“You do?”
“Yes my dad is the new vicar of St Margaret’s” Dora said
“So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other” he said happily
“I would hope so, I’m a good Christian girl so I don’t behave like this with just anyone” she replied and kissed him again before he could say anything else.
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the North and it’s in leafy Roespring where our story begins.
It was after the second exhausting day of reveling, when brother and sister in law, Roberto and Annette Obertelli were exiting the front door of the Dancing Cavalier Hotel in Roespring.
They had been attending the wedding of close friends and what had been expected to be a classy, cultured and refined weekend had turned into a raucous Hooley involving dancing on tables and urinating in fountains.
The pair had just performed a kind of walk of shame through the lobby causing all heads to turn in their direction.
Among their audience was an array of faces baring expressions, ranging from disgust, all the way through jealously to envy and even admiration, but from the management the universal tone was disgust.
They emerged through the door into the sunlight looking red faced and sheepish.
Having had a lobby full of eyes on them as they left the hotel they felt relieved to escape into the fresh air where they turned to each other and burst out laughing.
Unfortunately they got tarred with the same brush as the worst offenders when they had actually been quite well behaved in comparison, admittedly Annette had been one of the first to start dancing on the tables but that was the full extent of her involvement and as Roberto was a bit of a lightweight when it came to drinking he had already passed out on a sofa in the sunroom by the time the worst of the shenanigan’s began.
“Well that’s one Hotel I can never stay at again” Annette said.
“Well it’s not my fault is it?” he said indignantly
“I’m not the one who danced on the table like Siouxsie and the Banshees”
Annette blushed to her roots and buried her face in his chest.
This was not the way she normally behaved she was normally a rather boring and ordinary woman.
But the weekend was the first time she had let her hair down in the two years since she became a widow.
Fraternal twins Roberto and Gianluca Obertelli owned the Vale Farm Pizza House franchises in Purplemere, having inherited it from their father.
Gianluca and Annette were married for five years when at the age of 31 he was tragically killed when his motorcycle collided with a HGV that failed to stop at a red light.
He died instantly.
Roberto was 33 now and he loved Annette with all his heart but only as a sister and she felt the same way so it was only natural that they continued to run the business between them.
(Part 02)
Unlike his brother Gianluca, Roberto had not found someone to share his life and since his death his wife Annette had not sought another partner.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been looking it was just that he hadn’t found someone to fit his ideal.
Although the night before at the wedding reception he had met someone who aroused his curiosity and got his attention.
The wedding party was held in the King Charles Wing but there was another party in the Prince Rupert Suite, which was an old fashioned fancy dress masked ball and it was from the latter that he imagined her to have come.
She was a small girl in a Georgian gown of powder blue and she wore a powdered high hair wig of the day and a sequined mask to conceal her face.
There was little conversation but what there was, was filled with honeyed words of seduction.
But apart from the copious flirting they danced on the terrace and even shared a kiss but then he lost her in the crowd and try as he might he couldn’t track her down which was when he turned to drink and ended up passed out on a sofa.
They boarded the train at Roespring Station and made themselves comfortable.
They had barely left the station before Annette was asleep with her head on his shoulder.
A long weekend away with an excess of food, drink and very little sleep had clearly taken its toll.
They had made the decision to go by train because they didn’t think either of them would be up to the drive home and they were right.
While Annette was sleeping against his shoulder he indulged in a spot of people watching.
The carriage was very quiet and sparsely populated and most of the passengers were at the other end.
But there were two girls sat diagonally across the aisle from the Obertelli’s, a tall willowy blonde with outstandingly stellar legs and a small mousy thing.
The blonde was very pretty but was very aware of the fact and she positively preened when she realized Roberto was admiring her legs.
She crossed her legs slowly and deliberately so he could marvel at them further but then he noticed on the newly exposed inner thigh a tattoo of an arrow and beneath it were the words “this way up”.
It was like an ice cold shower to him.
“How very classy” he thought and it was a huge turn off for him, so he turned his attention to the quiet mousy girl sitting in the corner.
She had long straight brown hair and a rather plain, heavily freckled face, but lovely blue eyes, a cute nose and a thin-lipped smile.
She was short, body shape undetermined due to a rather shapeless baggy sweater, so it was difficult for him to tell which way she was facing let alone see her figure.
Her legs were nice though, ensconced in black shabby tights and she had tiny feet which was always a bonus for him.
He had trouble fixing her age though and he thought she could have been anywhere between 20 and 30.
The mouse ticked quite a few boxes for Roberto.
The leggy blonde on seeing his transfer of allegiance huffed quite loudly and flounced off to another part of the carriage.
(Part 03)
Roberto continued to appraise the mouse who seemed quite pleased with herself that she had lured his attention away from “legs” and that the blonde had thrown in the towel, in fact she took on an air of aloofness on recognizing her success in stealing his attentions, so he and the mouse spent the next forty minutes exchanging glances, in between admiring the wonderful scenery, his of curiosity with a hint of lechery, and hers of coquettishness, in fact they continued until they were approaching Purplemere.
Which was when his thoughts turned back to Annette, and he woke her and helped her gather her things together.
As they approached the station he got up and carried the bags to the door, and she followed close behind, the train stopped and Roberto turned to give the mouse one final look but she wasn’t there
The doors opened and he stepped out onto the platform and headed towards the taxis.
As the taxi left the rank Annette said
“You seemed very interested in that girl”
“What girl?” he asked
“The little brunette”
“That’s because I thought I recognized her” he said
“Oh really?” she retorted mockingly
“Yes there was something familiar about her but I couldn’t put my finger on it” he explained
“A likely story” Annette said
“No honestly” he insisted “Maybe she’s a customer”
“Whatever” she said and laughed
Roberto gave up protesting, but it was true he had recognized her, but there was also something about her which was why he couldn’t stop looking at her.
The taxi dropped Annette first in Middle Gracewood and Roberto arrived home in Upper Gracewood about five minutes later and after a long awaited cup of coffee he headed off to the bathroom for a much needed shower.
The shower was wonderful and he felt refreshed and invigorated so he threw on his toweling robe and went back to the kitchen for another coffee.
Steaming coffee in hand he walked through to the lounge, the room was dominated by a large L shaped leather sofa with a large square matching foot stool which was sitting in its default position i.e. in the right angle of the sofa.
The room was quite stuffy so he put his coffee down on the table and walked across and threw open the French doors but he left the curtains drawn as the sun was full on, on that side of the house at that time of day, then he sat on the sofa and almost immediately the long blinks began to set in and within minutes he was lying stretched out on the cool expanse of leather and a few minutes later he was fast asleep.
He had no idea how long he had slept but when he began to stir the room was in darkness and he thought he heard the sound of bare feet padding on the laminate floor and there was the smell of perfume, subtle but distinct, and it was familiar, Lily of the Valley.
(Part 04)
He had no idea how long he had slept but when he began to stir the room was in darkness and he thought he heard the sound of bare feet padding on the laminate floor and there was the smell of perfume, subtle but distinct, and it was familiar, Lily of the Valley.
He lay there for an indeterminate time drifting in and out sleep with his mind full of little dreams of the Georgian doll in the powder blue dress he had danced with on Saturday Night that ended with a kiss.
And the dream was so vivid he could feel the light touch of soft lips on his and he could smell her perfume.
It felt so real and the kiss so seductive, then he dreamt that he felt, no not dreamt, he felt the pressure of her mouth on his and all the ensuing passion that went along with it.
Roberto opened his eyes but in the darkness he had no idea who was kissing him but to be perfectly honest at that precise moment he didn’t really care he just didn’t want them to stop, but when he moved to envelope his blissful assailant in his arms she broke away and was giggling as she went padding across the floor and out into the garden.
From the sofa he could only see a vague figure in the gloom but couldn’t tell who it was whose lips had been kissing him.
“Wait” he said “don’t go”
He jumped up from his recumbent position and headed towards the French doors and tried to find his assailant in the garden.
The problem was it was a very large garden, with trees at the end and an abundance of shrubbery, and it was dark.
He didn’t even know if she was still in the garden and as he was still wearing his bath robe and nothing else, he couldn’t go searching further afield.
Roberto walked up and down the garden for about ten minutes before he got dispirited and headed back towards the house.
He sighed as he reached the French doors and then when he pushed the curtain aside he saw her
“Were you looking for me?” the mouse from the train said
“It’s you” he exclaimed “and you’re the girl from the masked ball”
“Are you disappointed?” she asked coyly
“Not of course not” he said emphatically “but why didn’t you say anything on the train?”
“Because I wanted to know if you liked me as me and not just the fantasy girl in the fancy dress” she explained
“And did I pass?” he asked as he walked towards her
“I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t” she replied and then they kissed.
“I don’t even know your name” he said when the kiss ended
“Dora” she said “Dora Green”
“Nice to meet you Dora, I’m Roberto Obertelli”
“Now we’ve been properly introduced can we get back to the kissing?” she asked
“Absolutely” he concurred
“So how did you know where I lived?” he asked as they sat on the sofa
“Because we’re neighbour’s” she replied
“We are?”
“Yes I live in the village” she said
“You do?”
“Yes my dad is the new vicar of St Margaret’s” Dora said
“So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other” he said happily
“I would hope so, I’m a good Christian girl so I don’t behave like this with just anyone” she replied and kissed him again before he could say anything else.
Tuesday 25 April 2017
Downshire Diary – (42) Just Being Neighbourly
(Part 01)
The Finchbottom Vale nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north and those who were lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns and at the eastern end of the Vale were the Dulcets which were a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet-on-Willow, Dulcet St Mary and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet Green which was where Scott Strong lived in a detached house with his wife of 25 years, Mary.
Although in truth Scott would have said that that was stretching a point, as it wasn’t so much living, and it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.
That was because Scott and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage in their lives they might just as well have been strangers.
In fact Scott didn’t really know why they had stayed together for twenty five years, he thought laziness was probably the likeliest reason.
They had no children, no pets, no nearest and dearest and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Scott’s opinion was the only special thing about it.
If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence in Scott’s opinion.
That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife he really loved the house.
But what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would put Scott’s love of the house into perspective.
It all began when Scott’s next door neighbours, the Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something big in the foreign office and he was offered a two year secondment to GCHQ, which he jumped at, but the Brown’s decided to rent the house out, while they were away, in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.
So it was on a warm day at the beginning of May when the new tenants moved in to the house next door, and it was a matter of great interest to Scott.
The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.
And in addition to the two old biddies they brought with them, a live in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 40 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.
Scott noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.
So it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see the new neighbours move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.
(Part 02)
Although freelance architect Scott Strong worked from home at least 3 days a week he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working and this less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.
He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to his wife Mary any more than was necessary.
Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the live in frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.
The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.
When they announced their plans to return to England, because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook, they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.
As she had always wanted to travel to England she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it any other way.
From the very first moment he introduced himself over the garden fence Scott got on well with Pauline.
He liked her sense of humour, her laugh, and her easy company.
Until her arrival Scott hadn’t realised how much he had missed good conversation and feminine company.
In the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, he had become very fond of her, but not quite as fond as he was destined to do.
Pauline welcomed her neighbourly neighbours company, because despite the beauty of the Vale and quaintness of the village, she found herself feeling lonely.
She knew no one in the area, she had not had an opportunity to make friends locally and she was very much made to feel, by her employers, that she was only the “help”.
Sharing a house with the two elderly spinsters did not make for a happy situation, they had no sense of humour and even if they had they certainly wouldn’t have shared a joke with her.
She missed stimulating conversation, well in truth she missed any kind of conversation, and so having regular visits from the affable Scott Strong and his quirky sense of humour were truly welcomed.
But neither Scott nor Pauline realised the significance of their regular country kitchen coffee mornings and that a little light hearted conversation was only the first step to something very different indeed.
(Part 03)
The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.
“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.
“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Scott”
“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate
“So what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine
“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Nettlefield for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied
She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.
“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Scott said
“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”
It was the first time he had seen Pauline quite so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.
The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned and Pauline had to keep herself quiet and respectful, and had to conduct herself with decorum at all times and not express a hint of humour and God forbid she should show any hint of femininity.
However as the sisters were away she was able to let her hair down which was why on that summer’s afternoon she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed or even hinted at and she was having her own private party until by late afternoon the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”
But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.
His immediate thought was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was more than 10 years his junior and very much the worse for drink.
So he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.
Scott knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and she was a very good kisser and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember, he was unwilling to stop proceedings
“Stop now” he was screaming inside his head
“While you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”
But he didn’t listen to his conscience.
Thankfully at that precise moment she disengaged her mouth from his and grinned at him before saying
“Great snog”
Then the combination of too much wine and too much sun played a part in proceeding once again and she passed out.
(Part 04)
The combination of too much wine and too much sun played a part in proceeding once again and she passed out.
Scott quickly reached out and prevented her falling to the floor and then scooped her up and carried her inside out of the hot sun.
Once inside he laid her down on the sofa and a moment or so later she came round.
“I’m sorry” she said
“What for?” he asked
“For snogging you” she replied and covered her face with her hands.
“I’m so embarrassed”
“Did you hear me complain?” he asked as he knelt on the floor beside her.
“No” she replied
“Well then”
“So you’re not horrified?” she asked and peeped through the gaps in her fingers
“Of course not” he replied “The opposite is true”
“What do you mean?” she asked but still had her face covered.
“I was disappointed when you stopped” he said “I thought you were horrified at what you had done”
“No never” she exclaimed and from her prone position she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed again.
However it wasn’t just drunken snogging because after they had another glass of wine the lay on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs in the dining room and proclaimed their love for each other on that balmy June afternoon.
Although no impropriety occurred, it was extraordinary behaviour anyway for someone in a Christian household, and as she was a Christian herself it would have been twice as bad especially with a married man.
Pauline was asleep on the sofa when he went home he wanted to be there in time to have a conversation over dinner with his darling wife.
As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.
So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and wished he was at the Brackhampton-Finch’s in Pauline’s arms, but he had resolved not to do that until after he had the dreaded conversation with Mary.
It was 11.45 when Mary returned and he was standing in the hall to greet her.
They sat up until the small hours discussing the future and in the end it was much more amicable than he had expected because she too had met someone that she wanted to know better.
They agreed that they should stay in the house until it was sold and then they could go their separate ways.
It was a cooler calmer day than the one that preceded it and Pauline was much calmer and cooler herself.
That hot sensual June afternoon when too much wine eroded her inhibitions was gone and as she had not seen Scott since she assumed he had too.
Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour the day before because Scott had been too gentlemanly to take advantage of her and Scott felt no guilt for what he did when neither of them where influence by sultry weather or cheap wine.
She was at the kitchen sink when he reached the open back door and he stepped quietly in and crept up behind her where he put his hands on her waist and kissed he neck.
She gasped in surprise when she felt his hands on her and sighed as his lips touched her skin.
“I didn’t think you were coming back” she murmured
“I couldn’t come back until I had spoken to Mary” he explained
“And?” she asked and held her breath to await his response.
“And we’re getting a divorce” he replied and she spun round and kissed him
It was a shame that the house would have to be sold but he couldn’t afford to buy Marys half so he had to give up the house that he loved so much in order to get the woman he loved even more.
With his share of the house sale Scott bought a modest cottage in Dulcet-on-Brooke and when her two years were up at the Brackhampton-Finch’s they lived in the cottage together.
A situation he was very pleased with which only came about as a result of him just being neighbourly.
The Finchbottom Vale nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north and those who were lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns and at the eastern end of the Vale were the Dulcets which were a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet-on-Willow, Dulcet St Mary and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet Green which was where Scott Strong lived in a detached house with his wife of 25 years, Mary.
Although in truth Scott would have said that that was stretching a point, as it wasn’t so much living, and it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.
That was because Scott and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage in their lives they might just as well have been strangers.
In fact Scott didn’t really know why they had stayed together for twenty five years, he thought laziness was probably the likeliest reason.
They had no children, no pets, no nearest and dearest and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Scott’s opinion was the only special thing about it.
If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence in Scott’s opinion.
That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife he really loved the house.
But what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would put Scott’s love of the house into perspective.
It all began when Scott’s next door neighbours, the Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something big in the foreign office and he was offered a two year secondment to GCHQ, which he jumped at, but the Brown’s decided to rent the house out, while they were away, in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.
So it was on a warm day at the beginning of May when the new tenants moved in to the house next door, and it was a matter of great interest to Scott.
The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.
And in addition to the two old biddies they brought with them, a live in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 40 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.
Scott noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.
So it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see the new neighbours move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.
(Part 02)
Although freelance architect Scott Strong worked from home at least 3 days a week he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working and this less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.
He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to his wife Mary any more than was necessary.
Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the live in frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.
The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.
When they announced their plans to return to England, because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook, they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.
As she had always wanted to travel to England she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it any other way.
From the very first moment he introduced himself over the garden fence Scott got on well with Pauline.
He liked her sense of humour, her laugh, and her easy company.
Until her arrival Scott hadn’t realised how much he had missed good conversation and feminine company.
In the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, he had become very fond of her, but not quite as fond as he was destined to do.
Pauline welcomed her neighbourly neighbours company, because despite the beauty of the Vale and quaintness of the village, she found herself feeling lonely.
She knew no one in the area, she had not had an opportunity to make friends locally and she was very much made to feel, by her employers, that she was only the “help”.
Sharing a house with the two elderly spinsters did not make for a happy situation, they had no sense of humour and even if they had they certainly wouldn’t have shared a joke with her.
She missed stimulating conversation, well in truth she missed any kind of conversation, and so having regular visits from the affable Scott Strong and his quirky sense of humour were truly welcomed.
But neither Scott nor Pauline realised the significance of their regular country kitchen coffee mornings and that a little light hearted conversation was only the first step to something very different indeed.
(Part 03)
The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.
“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.
“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Scott”
“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate
“So what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine
“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Nettlefield for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied
She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.
“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Scott said
“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”
It was the first time he had seen Pauline quite so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.
The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned and Pauline had to keep herself quiet and respectful, and had to conduct herself with decorum at all times and not express a hint of humour and God forbid she should show any hint of femininity.
However as the sisters were away she was able to let her hair down which was why on that summer’s afternoon she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed or even hinted at and she was having her own private party until by late afternoon the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”
But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.
His immediate thought was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was more than 10 years his junior and very much the worse for drink.
So he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.
Scott knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and she was a very good kisser and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember, he was unwilling to stop proceedings
“Stop now” he was screaming inside his head
“While you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”
But he didn’t listen to his conscience.
Thankfully at that precise moment she disengaged her mouth from his and grinned at him before saying
“Great snog”
Then the combination of too much wine and too much sun played a part in proceeding once again and she passed out.
(Part 04)
The combination of too much wine and too much sun played a part in proceeding once again and she passed out.
Scott quickly reached out and prevented her falling to the floor and then scooped her up and carried her inside out of the hot sun.
Once inside he laid her down on the sofa and a moment or so later she came round.
“I’m sorry” she said
“What for?” he asked
“For snogging you” she replied and covered her face with her hands.
“I’m so embarrassed”
“Did you hear me complain?” he asked as he knelt on the floor beside her.
“No” she replied
“Well then”
“So you’re not horrified?” she asked and peeped through the gaps in her fingers
“Of course not” he replied “The opposite is true”
“What do you mean?” she asked but still had her face covered.
“I was disappointed when you stopped” he said “I thought you were horrified at what you had done”
“No never” she exclaimed and from her prone position she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed again.
However it wasn’t just drunken snogging because after they had another glass of wine the lay on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs in the dining room and proclaimed their love for each other on that balmy June afternoon.
Although no impropriety occurred, it was extraordinary behaviour anyway for someone in a Christian household, and as she was a Christian herself it would have been twice as bad especially with a married man.
Pauline was asleep on the sofa when he went home he wanted to be there in time to have a conversation over dinner with his darling wife.
As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.
So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and wished he was at the Brackhampton-Finch’s in Pauline’s arms, but he had resolved not to do that until after he had the dreaded conversation with Mary.
It was 11.45 when Mary returned and he was standing in the hall to greet her.
They sat up until the small hours discussing the future and in the end it was much more amicable than he had expected because she too had met someone that she wanted to know better.
They agreed that they should stay in the house until it was sold and then they could go their separate ways.
It was a cooler calmer day than the one that preceded it and Pauline was much calmer and cooler herself.
That hot sensual June afternoon when too much wine eroded her inhibitions was gone and as she had not seen Scott since she assumed he had too.
Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour the day before because Scott had been too gentlemanly to take advantage of her and Scott felt no guilt for what he did when neither of them where influence by sultry weather or cheap wine.
She was at the kitchen sink when he reached the open back door and he stepped quietly in and crept up behind her where he put his hands on her waist and kissed he neck.
She gasped in surprise when she felt his hands on her and sighed as his lips touched her skin.
“I didn’t think you were coming back” she murmured
“I couldn’t come back until I had spoken to Mary” he explained
“And?” she asked and held her breath to await his response.
“And we’re getting a divorce” he replied and she spun round and kissed him
It was a shame that the house would have to be sold but he couldn’t afford to buy Marys half so he had to give up the house that he loved so much in order to get the woman he loved even more.
With his share of the house sale Scott bought a modest cottage in Dulcet-on-Brooke and when her two years were up at the Brackhampton-Finch’s they lived in the cottage together.
A situation he was very pleased with which only came about as a result of him just being neighbourly.
Monday 24 April 2017
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (50) Guilty Secret
(Part 01)
Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram had fallen in love with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, Carrington Chase educated woman called, Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Attraction for him was instant when he saw her in the first class carriage on the train to Abbottsford.
That was before he’d even heard her speak in her posh Carrington Chase educated voice which he didn’t hear until she fell on his lap on the return journey.
Carrington Chase was Downshire’s version of Roedean, although those in Downshire think it was the other way around.
Paul had always been turned on by a well-spoken women and turned off by common ones.
For him there was no greater turn off than to see a spectacularly beautiful woman open her mouth and speak in a rough colloquial accent, Cheryl Cole being a good case in point.
But Francesca was beautiful to look at and she had the sexy posh accent, but more than that after having spoken to her and seen behind the beauty and the poshness, she was a lovely person from the inside to the out.
Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.
Although he didn’t realize it at the time, Francesca had noticed Paul on the train to Abbottsford and she was taken with him from the first glance, and it was the first glance of many.
She had even spotted him later that afternoon as she was in the back of a taxi, slightly the worse for drink, and he was sitting in the beer garden of the Downshire Castle, and totally out of character she waved at him.
But nobody was more surprised than she was when she fell in his lap, not once but three times when she was returning home.
And from that moment on the die was cast.
But it wasn’t until 6 weeks later when she was attending the Sharpington Yacht Club Dinner Dance when their paths crossed again.
Francesca was well used to being ignored by her husband at such events but the moment the dancing started he deserted her to go and drink with his mates at the bar and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back for her so she made a dignified exit and walked up to the promenade where she broke down completely.
She couldn’t have put a time to the period she spent crying on the bench or how much longer she may have remained had she not heard a male voice behind say
“Is everything ok?”
And when she turned around to reveal her tearstained face she saw it was Paul Ingram
“Oh it’s you” she said the moment she saw him and was up on her feet and rushing into his arms, but was unable to speak for several minutes as Paul held her in his arms and she sobbed.
And those tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.
(Part 02)
After Paul and Francesca made love in his caravan in the middle of July and he walked her back to her Hotel in the early hours of the next day Paul was very optimistic about the prospect of seeing her again, and in the very near future.
However by the beginning of August he hadn’t even seen her again let alone hold her and touch her.
He had phoned her numerous times but she never picked up.
He would have gone to her house but unfortunately he neglected to get her exact address when he last saw her.
Francesca was trying desperately to avoid speaking to Paul, even though that was the last thing she wanted to do.
She had thought of little else since that night they spent together but she had also had terrible feelings of guilt, which was why she kept ignoring his calls and she would have kept that up indefinitely until the point he gave up calling, had fate not taken a hand.
Paul had been sent to collect some grass seed from the Shallowfield Garden Centre which was quite unusual in itself because they normally got there supplies from a wholesale supplier, but they had an urgent need due to their own stock being found to be sterile and the lead time on replacement not meeting their urgency.
It was as Paul drove along the high street in Shallowfield when he caught sight of Francesca Carrington-Webber sitting alone at one of the tables outside Addison’s Café.
She was wearing a summer dress and she looked absolutely gorgeous, he guessed she was probably enjoying a coffee while waiting for a friend.
He parked the car in the first available space and walked back towards the café and as he got close he quickened his stride and as luck would have it, or so he thought, he caught her eye and he gave her a wave, but instead of waving back she gathered up her things and hurried away.
“That’s very odd” he thought
Having failed to speak with Francesca he went to the Garden Centre and got the seed and decided to have lunch at The Woodcutters Arms and had a sandwich and a pint.
When he stepped back out into the sunlight, he spotted Francesca again, this time in the pub carpark, so he approached her on her blindside so she couldn’t run off again and when he was a few feet away he said
“I think you’ve been avoiding me”
Francesca jumped and immediately became flustered
“No, no not at all” she corrected him
“I think you have,” he repeated “why?”
Francesca didn’t say anything for about a minute
“Please tell me Francesca” he entreated
“Because I feel guilty,” She snapped
“You don’t need to feel guilty Honey” he said
“You don’t understand” She said vehemently “I don’t feel guilty because it happened”
“Then why?” Paul asked but she didn’t respond
“Francesca?”
“Because I enjoyed it” she barked
“I liked it because you made me feel sexy”
Francesca paused and then continued
“I liked it because you made me feel special”
Then she hurried away towards her car, but stopped and turned after a few paces and said
“But most of all I feel guilty because I want to do it again”
And then she was gone again, Paul thought for a moment before he hurried after her
“Francesca?” he called but she kept going so he pressed on after her instead and Francesca was standing by her car when he caught up with her.
“Do you mean it?” he asked but his question met with silence
“Francesca?”
“Yes” she replied reluctantly “but it can never happen again”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a wife and a mother” she retorted and then added almost as an after thought
“And I love my husband”
She may have once but not so much now he thought, her husband spent more time on the Golf course or in the club house than he did with his gorgeous wife.
(Part 03)
“Because I’m a wife and a mother” she retorted and then added almost as an after thought
“And I love my husband”
She may have once but not so much now he thought, her husband spent more time on the Golf course or in the club house than he did with his gorgeous wife.
He believed Francesca was clearly lonely which she didn’t deserve to be, and it was in his power to change that.
She opened the hatchback and was about to put her shopping in the boot; but he put his right hand on the edge of the boot, preventing her.
“Do you think about that night?” he asked
“Yes” she said
“Often?”
“Yes” she replied “All the time”
“Do you remember us laying in my bed” he asked and she reddened at the recollection and then nodded
“It’s something I’ll never forget” he said “I think about it every day and especially when I go to the Caravan”
“Don’t make fun of me, don’t make fun of it” she screamed and started to cry
“I’m not making fun of you,” he said taking hold of her hand
“I think of it all the time” he said “And not just the love making, I think of you, in that cocktail dress, with my jacket on your shoulders”
Francesca squeezed his hand and he continued
“Walking arm in arm through the park”
“So do I,” she gasped and squeezed his hand again.
They didn’t speak; the only sound was her steady breathing and the birdsong as they both recalled moments of that night.
He watched her, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and her tongue lightly moistening them as she breathed but then a group of pub customers walked by and the spell was broken, she let go of his hand and she threw her shopping quickly in the boot and slammed it shut.
“Please don’t avoid me again?” he said
“I won’t, I promise” she said and then she drove away.
He hoped he wouldn’t have to wait long before he saw her again and as he walked back to his car Paul allowed himself to fantasize about where and when he might see her again, the first occasion in Sharpington was a chance meeting, a serendipitous event, which culminated in them making love, the second time was also by chance, but it was too public for him to embrace her the way he wanted to, hopefully the next time they met by chance it would be different.
“I hope there will be a next time” he muttered under his breath and then he was snapped out of his deliberations by the sound of a car horn.
When he turned around to investigate the source of the sound he discovered it was Francesca, who had pulled up alongside him.
“Hello” he said “I was just thinking, about you, about us”
“Good, I want you to come with me to the woods so I can kiss you” she said
“And I want to kiss you to” he retorted “When did you have in mind?”
“Right now” she snapped
“Are you sure?” Paul asked
“Yes” she yelled “Get in the bloody car”
“So much for a chance encounter” Paul said to himself as he walked around to the other side and got in the car.
And after a short tense ride in the car up to a secluded part of the Dancingdean Forest Francesca and Paul had a long awaited kiss in the woods.
After their passionate embrace they talked and talked until it was time for her to go and pick up her girls from school.
The outcome of the discourse was that she wanted to see him again, but she was a married woman, however unhappily, so they couldn’t be together in the way they were at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park, not yet anyway.
They also concluded that what had begun for him as a bit of fun with a fit older woman, and for her some good energetic sex with a toy boy, had despite the age difference turned into something else, as they had fallen in love.
Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram had fallen in love with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, Carrington Chase educated woman called, Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Attraction for him was instant when he saw her in the first class carriage on the train to Abbottsford.
That was before he’d even heard her speak in her posh Carrington Chase educated voice which he didn’t hear until she fell on his lap on the return journey.
Carrington Chase was Downshire’s version of Roedean, although those in Downshire think it was the other way around.
Paul had always been turned on by a well-spoken women and turned off by common ones.
For him there was no greater turn off than to see a spectacularly beautiful woman open her mouth and speak in a rough colloquial accent, Cheryl Cole being a good case in point.
But Francesca was beautiful to look at and she had the sexy posh accent, but more than that after having spoken to her and seen behind the beauty and the poshness, she was a lovely person from the inside to the out.
Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.
Although he didn’t realize it at the time, Francesca had noticed Paul on the train to Abbottsford and she was taken with him from the first glance, and it was the first glance of many.
She had even spotted him later that afternoon as she was in the back of a taxi, slightly the worse for drink, and he was sitting in the beer garden of the Downshire Castle, and totally out of character she waved at him.
But nobody was more surprised than she was when she fell in his lap, not once but three times when she was returning home.
And from that moment on the die was cast.
But it wasn’t until 6 weeks later when she was attending the Sharpington Yacht Club Dinner Dance when their paths crossed again.
Francesca was well used to being ignored by her husband at such events but the moment the dancing started he deserted her to go and drink with his mates at the bar and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back for her so she made a dignified exit and walked up to the promenade where she broke down completely.
She couldn’t have put a time to the period she spent crying on the bench or how much longer she may have remained had she not heard a male voice behind say
“Is everything ok?”
And when she turned around to reveal her tearstained face she saw it was Paul Ingram
“Oh it’s you” she said the moment she saw him and was up on her feet and rushing into his arms, but was unable to speak for several minutes as Paul held her in his arms and she sobbed.
And those tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.
(Part 02)
After Paul and Francesca made love in his caravan in the middle of July and he walked her back to her Hotel in the early hours of the next day Paul was very optimistic about the prospect of seeing her again, and in the very near future.
However by the beginning of August he hadn’t even seen her again let alone hold her and touch her.
He had phoned her numerous times but she never picked up.
He would have gone to her house but unfortunately he neglected to get her exact address when he last saw her.
Francesca was trying desperately to avoid speaking to Paul, even though that was the last thing she wanted to do.
She had thought of little else since that night they spent together but she had also had terrible feelings of guilt, which was why she kept ignoring his calls and she would have kept that up indefinitely until the point he gave up calling, had fate not taken a hand.
Paul had been sent to collect some grass seed from the Shallowfield Garden Centre which was quite unusual in itself because they normally got there supplies from a wholesale supplier, but they had an urgent need due to their own stock being found to be sterile and the lead time on replacement not meeting their urgency.
It was as Paul drove along the high street in Shallowfield when he caught sight of Francesca Carrington-Webber sitting alone at one of the tables outside Addison’s Café.
She was wearing a summer dress and she looked absolutely gorgeous, he guessed she was probably enjoying a coffee while waiting for a friend.
He parked the car in the first available space and walked back towards the café and as he got close he quickened his stride and as luck would have it, or so he thought, he caught her eye and he gave her a wave, but instead of waving back she gathered up her things and hurried away.
“That’s very odd” he thought
Having failed to speak with Francesca he went to the Garden Centre and got the seed and decided to have lunch at The Woodcutters Arms and had a sandwich and a pint.
When he stepped back out into the sunlight, he spotted Francesca again, this time in the pub carpark, so he approached her on her blindside so she couldn’t run off again and when he was a few feet away he said
“I think you’ve been avoiding me”
Francesca jumped and immediately became flustered
“No, no not at all” she corrected him
“I think you have,” he repeated “why?”
Francesca didn’t say anything for about a minute
“Please tell me Francesca” he entreated
“Because I feel guilty,” She snapped
“You don’t need to feel guilty Honey” he said
“You don’t understand” She said vehemently “I don’t feel guilty because it happened”
“Then why?” Paul asked but she didn’t respond
“Francesca?”
“Because I enjoyed it” she barked
“I liked it because you made me feel sexy”
Francesca paused and then continued
“I liked it because you made me feel special”
Then she hurried away towards her car, but stopped and turned after a few paces and said
“But most of all I feel guilty because I want to do it again”
And then she was gone again, Paul thought for a moment before he hurried after her
“Francesca?” he called but she kept going so he pressed on after her instead and Francesca was standing by her car when he caught up with her.
“Do you mean it?” he asked but his question met with silence
“Francesca?”
“Yes” she replied reluctantly “but it can never happen again”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a wife and a mother” she retorted and then added almost as an after thought
“And I love my husband”
She may have once but not so much now he thought, her husband spent more time on the Golf course or in the club house than he did with his gorgeous wife.
(Part 03)
“Because I’m a wife and a mother” she retorted and then added almost as an after thought
“And I love my husband”
She may have once but not so much now he thought, her husband spent more time on the Golf course or in the club house than he did with his gorgeous wife.
He believed Francesca was clearly lonely which she didn’t deserve to be, and it was in his power to change that.
She opened the hatchback and was about to put her shopping in the boot; but he put his right hand on the edge of the boot, preventing her.
“Do you think about that night?” he asked
“Yes” she said
“Often?”
“Yes” she replied “All the time”
“Do you remember us laying in my bed” he asked and she reddened at the recollection and then nodded
“It’s something I’ll never forget” he said “I think about it every day and especially when I go to the Caravan”
“Don’t make fun of me, don’t make fun of it” she screamed and started to cry
“I’m not making fun of you,” he said taking hold of her hand
“I think of it all the time” he said “And not just the love making, I think of you, in that cocktail dress, with my jacket on your shoulders”
Francesca squeezed his hand and he continued
“Walking arm in arm through the park”
“So do I,” she gasped and squeezed his hand again.
They didn’t speak; the only sound was her steady breathing and the birdsong as they both recalled moments of that night.
He watched her, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and her tongue lightly moistening them as she breathed but then a group of pub customers walked by and the spell was broken, she let go of his hand and she threw her shopping quickly in the boot and slammed it shut.
“Please don’t avoid me again?” he said
“I won’t, I promise” she said and then she drove away.
He hoped he wouldn’t have to wait long before he saw her again and as he walked back to his car Paul allowed himself to fantasize about where and when he might see her again, the first occasion in Sharpington was a chance meeting, a serendipitous event, which culminated in them making love, the second time was also by chance, but it was too public for him to embrace her the way he wanted to, hopefully the next time they met by chance it would be different.
“I hope there will be a next time” he muttered under his breath and then he was snapped out of his deliberations by the sound of a car horn.
When he turned around to investigate the source of the sound he discovered it was Francesca, who had pulled up alongside him.
“Hello” he said “I was just thinking, about you, about us”
“Good, I want you to come with me to the woods so I can kiss you” she said
“And I want to kiss you to” he retorted “When did you have in mind?”
“Right now” she snapped
“Are you sure?” Paul asked
“Yes” she yelled “Get in the bloody car”
“So much for a chance encounter” Paul said to himself as he walked around to the other side and got in the car.
And after a short tense ride in the car up to a secluded part of the Dancingdean Forest Francesca and Paul had a long awaited kiss in the woods.
After their passionate embrace they talked and talked until it was time for her to go and pick up her girls from school.
The outcome of the discourse was that she wanted to see him again, but she was a married woman, however unhappily, so they couldn’t be together in the way they were at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park, not yet anyway.
They also concluded that what had begun for him as a bit of fun with a fit older woman, and for her some good energetic sex with a toy boy, had despite the age difference turned into something else, as they had fallen in love.
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (49) Entrapment
(Part 01)
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see, from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the North but it’s in leafy Shallowfield where our story begins but the main characters originate from the busy town of Purplemere on the other side of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
The Vale was once a great wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East, to Childean in the west and from Shallowfield in the south to Purplemere in the north.
But over the many centuries the vast majority had been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair.
There were only three small bodies of water left in the Vale now one in Mornington, one in Childean and third of course was Purplemere,
It was in Purplemere were Christine Prunot lived and worked, it was where she was a solicitor working for the firm of Curtis, Mitchel and Lovegood.
Christine was five foot two and on the skinny side of slim with dark flowing hair, brown eyes, olive skin and a beautiful smile.
On a grey drab Friday morning at the end of the first week of August she was over in Shallowfield on the other side of the Vale to meet with her friend, Annette Obertelli, because she was the family solicitor.
They were meeting with the representatives of Vale Farm Pizza’s at 11 o’clock at the Shallowfield premises but she had arranged to meet Annette early so they could get the lay of the land before the meeting.
Christine decided to drive over the night before and stay at the Shallowfield Lodge Hotel on the edge of Teardrop Lake so Annette was to meet her there.
She was up early and when she stepped outside she got her first view of the lake and was blown away by the view which was spectacular, although she couldn’t see it all or discern the teardrop shape that gave the lake its name.
But the view of the surrounding ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forest was majestic.
Despite the grey start the skies brightened and painted the lake and the surrounding forest with a very sympathetic hue so she decided to go for a walk.
(Part 02)
Shallowfield’s fortunes had always relied largely upon forestry and agriculture for its survival.
In the post war years with rationing and a shortage of work a lot of people moved away, to Abbottsford, Abbeyvale and beyond and it only barely survived, and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.
Only a few of the houses around the Lake were thriving, a lot of the houses had been rented out and those that hadn’t were in a poor state of repair, some too such an extent they were little more than ruins.
But by the 1970s things were beginning to change, thanks mainly to tourism and an increase in leisure time.
More importantly these people had money in their pockets.
This trend was reflected by the fact that the derelict Shallowfield Lodge, which had been inherited by a young couple from Lincolnshire, Rob and Sheryl Brown, was being turned into a hotel.
Its completion formerly marked the rebirth of Teardrop Lake and by extension, Shallowfield, forty plus years later it was thriving.
Christine met Annette at the Hotel and then they drove in the formers car to the where the premises were located.
Which was a relatively modern mixed use trading estate on the outskirts of Shallowfield in what had once been a wood mill.
It was first converted into offices in the 1970’s and was occupied by a firm of Accountants, Cooper, Brandon and Holland who had relocated from London.
They occupied the site until the end of the 20th Century when they moved into more modern, eco-friendly premises at the Childean end of the village.
When the Accountancy firm vacated the site it was completely transformed with the addition of further units, into a popular trading estate with retail and fast food outlets all with offices above.
It was vibrant and busy and was clearly very popular, there was a well-balanced mixture of traders and Annette and Christine were quietly impressed, that was until they reached the Vale Farm Pizza House.
“Oh dear” they said almost in unison and then they stood looking at the tawdry façade.
It was an absolute mess, it was scruffy with flaking paintwork, and some letters were missing on the shop front, litter was everywhere and it only got worse when they went inside.
It was such a mess inside the shop, with boxes stacked everywhere, that Annette immediately turned around and went the other way.
“Second thoughts?” Christine asked
“Not at all” Annette said “And I think with some canny negotiations they will agree to whatever terms we set in order to get me to take it on”
“Well I think if you want it they’ll pay you for the privilege” Christine agreed
“And we’ll get lunch out of them as well” Annette added and smiled
“The Phoenix is very good, and it’s not cheap” Christine suggested
The meeting went ahead on time and they got more than favorable terms due to the dire straits that the shop was in.
They also agreed to close for two weeks to revamp the place as it was looking very tired and then they would open again for business on the twenty first of August and have all the wrinkles ironed out before the bank holiday weekend.
Afterwards with only the formalities to be completed later that day they went for a very pleasant lunch at the Phoenix.
(Part 03)
After a very pleasant lunch at the Phoenix Restaurant good byes were said and as there were only legal formalities to be dealt with it was left to the lawyers to draft the contract, which would be signed and sealed later in the day, so Annette said to Christine.
“Do you need me for the next bit?”
“No it will take a couple of hours to tie everything up in a bow” she replied
“Good because I need to walk this off” Annette said and patted her stomach
“Well I would suggest taking a walk up by the lake, it’s really wonderful” Christine suggested
So Annette wandered off and Christine returned to the fray with the Vale Farm Pizza’s legal eagles.
When she was finished she met up with her client and friend Annette outside the Vale Farm Pizza House again and Annette asked
“So how’s it going?”
“All done” she replied “you just need to sign on the dotted line”
“That’s great news” Annette said “Because I just bought a house”
“Crikey you don’t hang about do you” Christine said
“So what are you doing with the house in the Gracewoods?”
“I’m going to rent it out, in the short term anyway” Annette replied and Christine’s heart sang, she had been looking to get out of Purplemere for a while and she loved Middle Gracewood so she asked
“Can I have first refusal?”
“What a fantastic day” she thought to herself, as she drove Annette back to the Shallowfield Lodge Hotel, not only had she done a great deal for her client to get the Shallowfield franchise for a song, but she had first refusal on renting Annette’s house in the Gracewoods.
When Christine drove her back to the Hotel to collect her car for the drive home, they said their goodbyes and Christine went in to collect her overnight bag, and when she came out she found Annette was still sitting in her car.
“What’s wrong?” Christine asked
“The car has broken down” Annette replied “I’ll never get a garage out at this time on a Friday”
“AA, RAC, Green Flag?” Christine inquired
“I’m not a member” she replied “I never go anywhere and Roberto drove me to and from work so I never bothered”
“Not to worry I’ll call Jordan” she said
She was referring to Jordan Donaldson, who was another one of Christine’s client’s although she would really have liked there to be more to their relationship than that.
He was one of the “Donaldson Automotive” family, and the Donaldson’s bought, sold, repaired, raced and rallied cars of all makes and models.
“I thought he worked in Purplemere” Annette said
“He does but he’ll know who to call to get you sorted” she replied.
After a five minute phone call in which Christine constantly fiddled with her hair and giggled, she announced
“Someone will be with us in half an hour”
So while they waited they sat in the hotel garden and drank tea.
Jordan Donaldson came good and a mechanic, Darren, duly arrived in the allotted time and after 20 minutes said that he would have to get it back to the workshop and he’d have her up and running by midday on Saturday.
(Part 04)
Jordan Donaldson came good and a mechanic, Darren, duly arrived in the allotted time and after 20 minutes said that he would have to get it back to the workshop and he’d have her up and running by midday on Saturday.
The fact that the car wasn’t going to be ready until the next day left Annette in a quandary, about how she was going to get home.
Under normal circumstances Christine could have driven her home but she was going to Sharpington straight from Shallowfield to spend the weekend with her parents and the coast was at the opposite end of the Vale to Middle Gracewood.
Annette could of course have gone home by train, which had its own problems, first she would be travelling through the rush hour and then she would have to repeat the exercise on Saturday to get back again.
There was also the option of hiring a car for the night, Annette had seen a car hire place on her travels, but she decided it wasn’t worth it and she might just as well spend the night in Shallowfield, and once she was happy that Annette was ok Christine set off for Sharpington.
Christine felt guilty about abandoning Annette in Shallowfield but she was expected in Sharpington so she had no choice.
She was later leaving Shallowfield than she expected but she made good time until when she was just approaching the Dulcets and her phone rang on the cradle on the dashboard but as she reached out to answer it, it popped off the cradle, landed on the central console and bounced three times and ended up behind the passenger seat.
She didn’t notice who the call was from as the phone somersaulted past her, but she had always been a little paranoid about missing calls so she decided to pull over in order to retrieve the handset and check the missed call.
Just at that point she saw a sign indicating a car park one mile ahead
“Great I’ll pull in there” she thought and when she reached it she saw it was a little lay-by set back from the road.
“Just perfect” she said as she pulled off the road and came to a halt.
Christine unfastened her belt and reached behind the passenger seat but with her diminutive stature she was stretching as far as she possibly could and she just got her fingertips to the target but on succeeded in pushing it farther away.
“Damn” she said “I’ll have get out and use the back door”
But just at the moment she said the words the heavens opened and the rain fell in a deluge
“Sod it, I’m not going out in that” she said “I’m climbing over”
So she clambered between the seats as a shortcut to the back and after indulging in a little contortion she manage to reach her goal and returned to the vertical with a triumphant
“Hurrah”
However in her haste to get back to the driver’s seat she decided to reverse her previous manoeuvre but just when she was halfway there, there was a loud clap of thunder overhead which made her jump and as a result she somehow managed to get her left foot stuck between the driver’s seat and the centre console and furthermore it was stuck fast.
“Oh bugger” she exclaimed when she realised she was trapped
(Part 05)
“Oh bugger” she exclaimed when she realised she was trapped
“Now what am I going to do?”
“I know I’ll move the seat” she said to herself and carefully reached down and grabbed the handle, yanking it up as she tried to push the seat but she could apply enough force against it and then it occurred to her that she couldn’t really move the driver’s seat because of her trapped foot, but she was able to recline it a little way without causing herself any injury.
Moving the passenger seat she could have done but that would not have been of any practical use to her and her predicament.
She decided there was only one course of action open to her and that was to call Jordan Donaldson.
Jordan Donaldson had been one of Christine’s client’s for over four years and she had been head over heels for him from the first meeting.
He was one of the “Donaldson Automotive” family, and the Donaldson’s bought, sold, repaired, raced and rallied cars of all makes and models.
He was blonde, rugged and gorgeous and he was only six inches taller than she was, so he didn’t tower over like most men did. And she liked that.
To add insult to injury when she looked at her phone she saw that the missed call was an 0800 number so she had got herself in a pickle for no good reason whatever.
Then she took a deep breath and called Jordan.
“Jordan Donaldson” he said
“Hi Jordon, its Christine”
“Oh hello, is your friend still having trouble?” he asked
“No it’s me this time” she replied sheepishly
“Have you had an accident? Are you ok?” he asked with real concern
“No I’m fine, I’m just stuck in my car” she said quietly
“Did you say you’re stuck in your car?” he asked
“Yes”
“Ok where are you?” he asked
“I’m in a lay-by on the Mornington Road about a mile from Dulcet Green” she explained
“Is that the one that’s set back from the road with trees on both sides?” he asked
“Yes that’s the one” Christine said
“Ok leave it with me and we’ll sort you out” he said and then hung up
“Well that’s scuppered any miniscule chance I may have had of getting him” she said disconsolately
As luck would have it Jordon was also in the Dulcets, The Dulcets being a collection of villages and hamlets such as Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet St Mary, Dulcet Green and Dulcet-on-Brooke to name but a few, and it was Dulcet Willow where he was when he took the call, so he jumped in his car and headed straight for her location.
He didn’t normally get that involved with customer’s problems but Christine was a special case because he fancied the pants off her
But she was beautiful, well educated, feisty, funny and wicked smart and he was little more than a glorified grease monkey so he had never made an advance in fear of being shot down in flames.
However now he had a chance to be a knight in shining armour, although he wasn’t sure how exactly because he didn’t understand what she meant by being stuck in her car.
(Part 06)
Christine was mortified when she had to tell the man she fancied that she was stuck in her own car, but that mortification paled into insignificance when she saw Jordan Donaldson’s car drive into the lay-by.
“No, no, no,” she chanted “this cannot be happening, it can’t be him, please god don’t let it be him, that’s just not fair”
Then she saw the driver’s door open and the man himself got out and walked her way.
“Oh great my humiliation is now complete”
Jordan opened the driver’s door and looked in and said
“Hi I’m looking for a damsel in distress”
And after the initial hellos and the obvious question
“How on earth did you get stuck?”
Christine explained about the phone call, dropping the phone, the cloud burst, retrieving the phone, the thunderclap, and the being startled and getting her foot stuck.
Jordan listened and nodded his understanding but at no time did he laugh or make her feel more foolish than she all ready did
“Ok let’s get you unstuck” he said “but you need to relax”
“Relax!” she snapped “Relax! How the hell can I relax when I’m stuck like this and the one person in the whole world that I very definitely would not want to see me like this is the very one who comes to my rescue”
Jordan didn’t speak, not that he could have got a word in edgeways, he was too busy digesting her comments about him and not wanting to look foolish in front of him and to his way of thinking that could mean only one thing.
“It’s so humiliating” she continued, “That’s why I’m so tense and that’s why I can’t relax”
“Well would it help if I were to ask you out to dinner after I’ve released you” he said “would that help you to relax?”
And with that it took about thirty seconds to free her foot, it seemed that once he had suggested dinner she relaxed and her foot pretty much freed itself.
“There you are” he said as he backed out of the driver’s door.
“Thank you Jordan” Christine said as she emerged after him and gave him a hug and then there was an awkward silence for a moment or two and then she said
“Did you mean it about dinner?”
“Absolutely” he replied “but only if you want to”
“Oh I want to, I really want to” she said “but….”
“But?”
“I’m spending the weekend in Sharpington at my parents’ house” she said
“Well Sharpington have restaurants as well you know, in fact there is a great one called The Diamond in the Rough” Jordan said “we could go tomorrow night if you fancy it”
“I’ve heard of it, it’s very exclusive” she replied
“Is that a yes then?” he asked
“Of course it’s a yes” she replied
“Ok that’s a date, text me your parents address and I’ll pick you up at 8 o’clock” he said
“I’ll see you tomorrow then” she said “Thanks again for being my white knight”
She got in the car and watched him walk to his and get in and they waved to each other as he drove off and then she squealed with delight because she had a date with Jordan Donaldson.
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see, from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the North but it’s in leafy Shallowfield where our story begins but the main characters originate from the busy town of Purplemere on the other side of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
The Vale was once a great wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East, to Childean in the west and from Shallowfield in the south to Purplemere in the north.
But over the many centuries the vast majority had been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair.
There were only three small bodies of water left in the Vale now one in Mornington, one in Childean and third of course was Purplemere,
It was in Purplemere were Christine Prunot lived and worked, it was where she was a solicitor working for the firm of Curtis, Mitchel and Lovegood.
Christine was five foot two and on the skinny side of slim with dark flowing hair, brown eyes, olive skin and a beautiful smile.
On a grey drab Friday morning at the end of the first week of August she was over in Shallowfield on the other side of the Vale to meet with her friend, Annette Obertelli, because she was the family solicitor.
They were meeting with the representatives of Vale Farm Pizza’s at 11 o’clock at the Shallowfield premises but she had arranged to meet Annette early so they could get the lay of the land before the meeting.
Christine decided to drive over the night before and stay at the Shallowfield Lodge Hotel on the edge of Teardrop Lake so Annette was to meet her there.
She was up early and when she stepped outside she got her first view of the lake and was blown away by the view which was spectacular, although she couldn’t see it all or discern the teardrop shape that gave the lake its name.
But the view of the surrounding ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forest was majestic.
Despite the grey start the skies brightened and painted the lake and the surrounding forest with a very sympathetic hue so she decided to go for a walk.
(Part 02)
Shallowfield’s fortunes had always relied largely upon forestry and agriculture for its survival.
In the post war years with rationing and a shortage of work a lot of people moved away, to Abbottsford, Abbeyvale and beyond and it only barely survived, and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.
Only a few of the houses around the Lake were thriving, a lot of the houses had been rented out and those that hadn’t were in a poor state of repair, some too such an extent they were little more than ruins.
But by the 1970s things were beginning to change, thanks mainly to tourism and an increase in leisure time.
More importantly these people had money in their pockets.
This trend was reflected by the fact that the derelict Shallowfield Lodge, which had been inherited by a young couple from Lincolnshire, Rob and Sheryl Brown, was being turned into a hotel.
Its completion formerly marked the rebirth of Teardrop Lake and by extension, Shallowfield, forty plus years later it was thriving.
Christine met Annette at the Hotel and then they drove in the formers car to the where the premises were located.
Which was a relatively modern mixed use trading estate on the outskirts of Shallowfield in what had once been a wood mill.
It was first converted into offices in the 1970’s and was occupied by a firm of Accountants, Cooper, Brandon and Holland who had relocated from London.
They occupied the site until the end of the 20th Century when they moved into more modern, eco-friendly premises at the Childean end of the village.
When the Accountancy firm vacated the site it was completely transformed with the addition of further units, into a popular trading estate with retail and fast food outlets all with offices above.
It was vibrant and busy and was clearly very popular, there was a well-balanced mixture of traders and Annette and Christine were quietly impressed, that was until they reached the Vale Farm Pizza House.
“Oh dear” they said almost in unison and then they stood looking at the tawdry façade.
It was an absolute mess, it was scruffy with flaking paintwork, and some letters were missing on the shop front, litter was everywhere and it only got worse when they went inside.
It was such a mess inside the shop, with boxes stacked everywhere, that Annette immediately turned around and went the other way.
“Second thoughts?” Christine asked
“Not at all” Annette said “And I think with some canny negotiations they will agree to whatever terms we set in order to get me to take it on”
“Well I think if you want it they’ll pay you for the privilege” Christine agreed
“And we’ll get lunch out of them as well” Annette added and smiled
“The Phoenix is very good, and it’s not cheap” Christine suggested
The meeting went ahead on time and they got more than favorable terms due to the dire straits that the shop was in.
They also agreed to close for two weeks to revamp the place as it was looking very tired and then they would open again for business on the twenty first of August and have all the wrinkles ironed out before the bank holiday weekend.
Afterwards with only the formalities to be completed later that day they went for a very pleasant lunch at the Phoenix.
(Part 03)
After a very pleasant lunch at the Phoenix Restaurant good byes were said and as there were only legal formalities to be dealt with it was left to the lawyers to draft the contract, which would be signed and sealed later in the day, so Annette said to Christine.
“Do you need me for the next bit?”
“No it will take a couple of hours to tie everything up in a bow” she replied
“Good because I need to walk this off” Annette said and patted her stomach
“Well I would suggest taking a walk up by the lake, it’s really wonderful” Christine suggested
So Annette wandered off and Christine returned to the fray with the Vale Farm Pizza’s legal eagles.
When she was finished she met up with her client and friend Annette outside the Vale Farm Pizza House again and Annette asked
“So how’s it going?”
“All done” she replied “you just need to sign on the dotted line”
“That’s great news” Annette said “Because I just bought a house”
“Crikey you don’t hang about do you” Christine said
“So what are you doing with the house in the Gracewoods?”
“I’m going to rent it out, in the short term anyway” Annette replied and Christine’s heart sang, she had been looking to get out of Purplemere for a while and she loved Middle Gracewood so she asked
“Can I have first refusal?”
“What a fantastic day” she thought to herself, as she drove Annette back to the Shallowfield Lodge Hotel, not only had she done a great deal for her client to get the Shallowfield franchise for a song, but she had first refusal on renting Annette’s house in the Gracewoods.
When Christine drove her back to the Hotel to collect her car for the drive home, they said their goodbyes and Christine went in to collect her overnight bag, and when she came out she found Annette was still sitting in her car.
“What’s wrong?” Christine asked
“The car has broken down” Annette replied “I’ll never get a garage out at this time on a Friday”
“AA, RAC, Green Flag?” Christine inquired
“I’m not a member” she replied “I never go anywhere and Roberto drove me to and from work so I never bothered”
“Not to worry I’ll call Jordan” she said
She was referring to Jordan Donaldson, who was another one of Christine’s client’s although she would really have liked there to be more to their relationship than that.
He was one of the “Donaldson Automotive” family, and the Donaldson’s bought, sold, repaired, raced and rallied cars of all makes and models.
“I thought he worked in Purplemere” Annette said
“He does but he’ll know who to call to get you sorted” she replied.
After a five minute phone call in which Christine constantly fiddled with her hair and giggled, she announced
“Someone will be with us in half an hour”
So while they waited they sat in the hotel garden and drank tea.
Jordan Donaldson came good and a mechanic, Darren, duly arrived in the allotted time and after 20 minutes said that he would have to get it back to the workshop and he’d have her up and running by midday on Saturday.
(Part 04)
Jordan Donaldson came good and a mechanic, Darren, duly arrived in the allotted time and after 20 minutes said that he would have to get it back to the workshop and he’d have her up and running by midday on Saturday.
The fact that the car wasn’t going to be ready until the next day left Annette in a quandary, about how she was going to get home.
Under normal circumstances Christine could have driven her home but she was going to Sharpington straight from Shallowfield to spend the weekend with her parents and the coast was at the opposite end of the Vale to Middle Gracewood.
Annette could of course have gone home by train, which had its own problems, first she would be travelling through the rush hour and then she would have to repeat the exercise on Saturday to get back again.
There was also the option of hiring a car for the night, Annette had seen a car hire place on her travels, but she decided it wasn’t worth it and she might just as well spend the night in Shallowfield, and once she was happy that Annette was ok Christine set off for Sharpington.
Christine felt guilty about abandoning Annette in Shallowfield but she was expected in Sharpington so she had no choice.
She was later leaving Shallowfield than she expected but she made good time until when she was just approaching the Dulcets and her phone rang on the cradle on the dashboard but as she reached out to answer it, it popped off the cradle, landed on the central console and bounced three times and ended up behind the passenger seat.
She didn’t notice who the call was from as the phone somersaulted past her, but she had always been a little paranoid about missing calls so she decided to pull over in order to retrieve the handset and check the missed call.
Just at that point she saw a sign indicating a car park one mile ahead
“Great I’ll pull in there” she thought and when she reached it she saw it was a little lay-by set back from the road.
“Just perfect” she said as she pulled off the road and came to a halt.
Christine unfastened her belt and reached behind the passenger seat but with her diminutive stature she was stretching as far as she possibly could and she just got her fingertips to the target but on succeeded in pushing it farther away.
“Damn” she said “I’ll have get out and use the back door”
But just at the moment she said the words the heavens opened and the rain fell in a deluge
“Sod it, I’m not going out in that” she said “I’m climbing over”
So she clambered between the seats as a shortcut to the back and after indulging in a little contortion she manage to reach her goal and returned to the vertical with a triumphant
“Hurrah”
However in her haste to get back to the driver’s seat she decided to reverse her previous manoeuvre but just when she was halfway there, there was a loud clap of thunder overhead which made her jump and as a result she somehow managed to get her left foot stuck between the driver’s seat and the centre console and furthermore it was stuck fast.
“Oh bugger” she exclaimed when she realised she was trapped
(Part 05)
“Oh bugger” she exclaimed when she realised she was trapped
“Now what am I going to do?”
“I know I’ll move the seat” she said to herself and carefully reached down and grabbed the handle, yanking it up as she tried to push the seat but she could apply enough force against it and then it occurred to her that she couldn’t really move the driver’s seat because of her trapped foot, but she was able to recline it a little way without causing herself any injury.
Moving the passenger seat she could have done but that would not have been of any practical use to her and her predicament.
She decided there was only one course of action open to her and that was to call Jordan Donaldson.
Jordan Donaldson had been one of Christine’s client’s for over four years and she had been head over heels for him from the first meeting.
He was one of the “Donaldson Automotive” family, and the Donaldson’s bought, sold, repaired, raced and rallied cars of all makes and models.
He was blonde, rugged and gorgeous and he was only six inches taller than she was, so he didn’t tower over like most men did. And she liked that.
To add insult to injury when she looked at her phone she saw that the missed call was an 0800 number so she had got herself in a pickle for no good reason whatever.
Then she took a deep breath and called Jordan.
“Jordan Donaldson” he said
“Hi Jordon, its Christine”
“Oh hello, is your friend still having trouble?” he asked
“No it’s me this time” she replied sheepishly
“Have you had an accident? Are you ok?” he asked with real concern
“No I’m fine, I’m just stuck in my car” she said quietly
“Did you say you’re stuck in your car?” he asked
“Yes”
“Ok where are you?” he asked
“I’m in a lay-by on the Mornington Road about a mile from Dulcet Green” she explained
“Is that the one that’s set back from the road with trees on both sides?” he asked
“Yes that’s the one” Christine said
“Ok leave it with me and we’ll sort you out” he said and then hung up
“Well that’s scuppered any miniscule chance I may have had of getting him” she said disconsolately
As luck would have it Jordon was also in the Dulcets, The Dulcets being a collection of villages and hamlets such as Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet St Mary, Dulcet Green and Dulcet-on-Brooke to name but a few, and it was Dulcet Willow where he was when he took the call, so he jumped in his car and headed straight for her location.
He didn’t normally get that involved with customer’s problems but Christine was a special case because he fancied the pants off her
But she was beautiful, well educated, feisty, funny and wicked smart and he was little more than a glorified grease monkey so he had never made an advance in fear of being shot down in flames.
However now he had a chance to be a knight in shining armour, although he wasn’t sure how exactly because he didn’t understand what she meant by being stuck in her car.
(Part 06)
Christine was mortified when she had to tell the man she fancied that she was stuck in her own car, but that mortification paled into insignificance when she saw Jordan Donaldson’s car drive into the lay-by.
“No, no, no,” she chanted “this cannot be happening, it can’t be him, please god don’t let it be him, that’s just not fair”
Then she saw the driver’s door open and the man himself got out and walked her way.
“Oh great my humiliation is now complete”
Jordan opened the driver’s door and looked in and said
“Hi I’m looking for a damsel in distress”
And after the initial hellos and the obvious question
“How on earth did you get stuck?”
Christine explained about the phone call, dropping the phone, the cloud burst, retrieving the phone, the thunderclap, and the being startled and getting her foot stuck.
Jordan listened and nodded his understanding but at no time did he laugh or make her feel more foolish than she all ready did
“Ok let’s get you unstuck” he said “but you need to relax”
“Relax!” she snapped “Relax! How the hell can I relax when I’m stuck like this and the one person in the whole world that I very definitely would not want to see me like this is the very one who comes to my rescue”
Jordan didn’t speak, not that he could have got a word in edgeways, he was too busy digesting her comments about him and not wanting to look foolish in front of him and to his way of thinking that could mean only one thing.
“It’s so humiliating” she continued, “That’s why I’m so tense and that’s why I can’t relax”
“Well would it help if I were to ask you out to dinner after I’ve released you” he said “would that help you to relax?”
And with that it took about thirty seconds to free her foot, it seemed that once he had suggested dinner she relaxed and her foot pretty much freed itself.
“There you are” he said as he backed out of the driver’s door.
“Thank you Jordan” Christine said as she emerged after him and gave him a hug and then there was an awkward silence for a moment or two and then she said
“Did you mean it about dinner?”
“Absolutely” he replied “but only if you want to”
“Oh I want to, I really want to” she said “but….”
“But?”
“I’m spending the weekend in Sharpington at my parents’ house” she said
“Well Sharpington have restaurants as well you know, in fact there is a great one called The Diamond in the Rough” Jordan said “we could go tomorrow night if you fancy it”
“I’ve heard of it, it’s very exclusive” she replied
“Is that a yes then?” he asked
“Of course it’s a yes” she replied
“Ok that’s a date, text me your parents address and I’ll pick you up at 8 o’clock” he said
“I’ll see you tomorrow then” she said “Thanks again for being my white knight”
She got in the car and watched him walk to his and get in and they waved to each other as he drove off and then she squealed with delight because she had a date with Jordan Donaldson.
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