Jennifer, Jennifer
A
savoury dish
Made
in her mother’s image
To
her mother’s recipe
Just
younger and fresher
A
very delicate dish
Skin
cool white
Pale
then lips
Eyes
eager and expressive
Plump
of breast
Round
rumped
Slender
limbed
Tender
loined
Succulent
and moist
Very
definitely
A
perfect starter
When I walked into the room
I
saw her, wearing her favourite
Fleecy
dressing gown
Curled
up in the big armchair
Her
little feet tucked beneath her
And
she was hugging a cushion
Almost
as big as she
Her
tiny frame
Was
almost lost
In
the overstuffed chair
And
instantly an unabated
Wave
of love washed over me
And
I immediately wanted her
She
was such a scrawny little thing
Barely
a hundred pounds
Soaking
wet
And
I had seen her that way
Many
times
But
I loved her totally
With
every fibre of my being
We
had been married
For
ten years now
And
still she excited me
Making
love to her was electric
It
was like being plugged into the national grid
From
the first time to the last
She
was just the sexiest girl I’d ever seen
I
stood over her
And
stared down at her
For
the longest time
She
was sleeping so soundly
I
didn’t really want to wake her
I
should have let her sleep
But
she would not have thanked me
In
fact, she would have been miffed
So,
I knelt beside her
And
roused her gently
And
as she stirred from her slumber
Her
eyes opened and then widened
When
she saw me
And
she smiled me that come to bed smile
“I
waited up for you
Because
I’m feeling fruity”
So,
my sexy girl was roused and aroused
So,
I took her in my arms
And
carried her to bed
Pretty Girl on a bicycle
In
a low-cut top
Whose
baps almost popped out
I
didn’t think they’d stop
They
were such nice ones
And
they were just there
So,
what else could I do
Except
stand and stare
It
was only a brief delight
Which
I thought would suffice
She
smiled and shook her head
As
she saw me say “very nice”
Then
she rode up the road
But was back in a trice
The Finchbottom Vale nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean
Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, and to the
east 15 miles inland from Sharpington-By-Sea, equidistant between the seaside
resort and Pepperstock Green was the rambling village of Brookley and at its
heart was St Mildred’s Church.
The
villager’s spiritual needs were met by its vicar Rev Cecil Payne who lived
at the adjacent vicarage with his wife Lily and their six unmarried daughters,
Chrissie, Daniela, Hazel, Heather, Katie and Elise.
For Lily her hopes involved the
grandchildren that were not forthcoming whereas Cecil just wanted them to
spread their wings, but as Easter loomed, there was no sign of either of them
getting their wish, but the power of prayer was a wonderful thing and both
parents prayed for their daughters.
The
sweetest of whom was 20-year-old Heather and the reason she was unattached was
that she wasn’t sure that there was anyone worthy enough for her give up her
good works for.
She was a shining girl, intelligent but not
academically so, but she was inclined towards an unquenchable sense of public
duty.
Not that
she didn’t occasionally take time out to look for “the one” but she failed to
locate him on the occasions when she did.
She was
arguably the prettiest of the Payne girls, in fact Heather
was very attractive but not showily so, very feminine, brunette and petite, and everyone who knew her was surprised that
she had never had a steady boyfriend and since the time in year ten at school
when she bloomed she had run the gauntlet of well-meaning friends, throwing
what they considered to be suitable candidates in her path, but she side
stepped them all.
There was something special in her nature, a
simple goodness, she believed in goodness and not surprisingly, everlasting
life and of course good and evil.
The problem
with finding “the one” was that she was too fussy, apart from him needing to be
tall and dark, “the one” needed to meet her usual criteria, handsome, kind,
loving and be true of heart.
But in addition, she was searching for someone
with a moral compass, a practicing Christian naturally, a church goer at least occasionally,
though not someone permanently on their knees, a devout man but not a pious
one.
She wanted a man who was worldly but not
tainted, attractive but not vain, masculine but possessed of modesty.
A man with good dress sense, free of tattoos
and body piercings, well mannered, and gentlemanly, definitely not someone who
drank from a bottle.
However, with every passing week Heather had
become convinced she was looking for someone who didn’t really exist.
At the beginning of Lent a new Choirmaster, Robert Perry,
arrived at St Mildred’s from nearby Sharpington after their existing music
director had a heart attack, and over the following weeks she realised that he met most, if not all, of her criteria, plus
he
was blessed with great kindness, a quality in her opinion unfailingly, underappreciated
in the modern world, which was a
quality that she had not bargained for.
But she soon dismissed him as a prospect and
cleared him off her radar, firstly because he was seven years older than her,
although that in itself was not a deal breaker, but he also spent a lot of time
away from the village and was quite secretive about where he went.
Robert too was searching, he was searching for
a woman who shared his faith and who put others before themselves, a good woman
and he had sought her all of his life and he had met several possible
contenders over the years, not unsurprisingly given the fact that he was a
significant member of the church and well respected among the ecclesiastical
music field, but the ones who caught his eye always fell short of his ideals,
so he ended up
walking the righteous path alone.
He found several members of the choir met his
criteria
and none more so than Heather but that did not
influence his decision to give her the solo at the Easter service.
From the moment he arrived at St Mildred’s it
was obvious she was the go to girl when it was time for a soloist he could rely
on, and her work ethic was exceptional, and he pushed her to her limits which
each additional performance.
But as Easter approached they had to intensify
the rehearsals, as at the beginning of Holy week, her sister Hazel, who was
also the church organist, tripped down the church steps and broke her arm.
Hazel was a very accomplished musician, and it
took a couple of days phoning around the county to find someone of a decent
enough standard to fill her shoes.
But even though they found someone relatively
quickly and of a suitable standard they still lost two days rehearsal which was
time that had to be made up.
Everyone involved gave total commitment and
worked diligently to make up for lost time and when it got the evening of
Maundy Thursday there was only Heather’s Good Friday solo that they had to
polish, neither her or Robert were in the best of moods as neither of them had
intended to still be practicing that late into Holy week and they both had
somewhere else they needed to be, and they didn’t want to be late.
Robert made them even later when he insisted
on her doing it one more time, and he did that because he became mesmerised by
her angelic voice and was struck for the first time by the fact that not only
did she sound like an angel, but she looked like one as well.
However, stand in Organist Harry Paul called a
halt to proceedings when Robert asked to go again.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, it’s getting
late and you can’t improve on perfection”
“No, you’re quite right” he agreed with his
eyes still fixed on Heather
“Oh no” she said looking at her watch “Look at
the time”
“Somewhere to be?” Robert asked
“Yes” she replied and put her coat on but
didn’t elaborate.
He supposed she must have a date or something
equally frivolous, and then he looked at his own watch.
“Oh, dear it is rather late” he said, “Do you
have somewhere to be as well?” she asked as he put his own coat on
“Yes, I do” he replied, “and I particularly
wanted to be there on time”
“Oh yes? What is it a new restaurant?” she
asked
“Of a sort” he replied
“What about you?” Robert asked as they left
the church “Do you have a date?”
“Certainly not” she said with afront “I have
more important things to do with my time”
“Well I’ll see you tomorrow at the service” he
said as he was digesting her answer
“Quite so” she agreed “I hope you make it on
time”
“You too” he replied and walked to his car as
she headed in the opposite direction to the Vicarage.
As she lived so close she was fed, showered,
changed and on her way out the door before Robert had even reached his front
door in Sharpington.
When he did, he closed the door behind him and
went straight to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich.
He ate it far too quickly to be good for him, in
fact he was still chewing as he stepped into the shower and as he did so he
knew he would have heartburn for the rest of the night.
He dried himself and dressed in warm clothes
and was then on his way.
He drove into town and parked on the promenade
and checked his watch as he hurriedly walked toward his destination, as he was
twenty minutes late.
He looked through the window and saw it was
quite busy and a queue had formed so he walked around to the side door and
walked in and undid his coat as he did he said
“I’m terribly sorry I’m so late I was unavoidably
detained”
“Well they all say that” Heather said as she
turned around and Robert smiled when he saw that it was his angel.
And at that moment they both realised that their mutual searches for “the one” had come to an end and it happened at the Sharpington soup kitchen.
Pretty Girl on a bicycle
In
a summer dress
Leaning
over the handlebars
To
make better progress
When
gravity intervened
As
if in answer to a prayer
And
presented to the viewer
The
most perfect pair
Sweet, sweet Emily
My
sweet confection
With
Demerara skin
A
honeyed morsel
Wrapped
in white silk
Just
visible beneath
Her
pristine shirt
Tantalising
the senses
Are
the chocolate peaks
Of
plump brown muffins
Sweet
caramel delights
Perfectly
formed
In
provocative silhouette
To
whet the appetite
Sweet,
sweet Emily
My
sweet confection
My
favourite desert
When the burning sun sinks low
Setting
the western sky aglow
And
the evening shadows grow
It happens again and again
A
simple smile and I dare to chance
That
this might be the one
It happens again and again
A
simple smile and I dare to dream
That
this might be the one
But
alas no it’s a familiar theme
Skipping stones across the blue
Sharing
holiday laughter and fun
When
amidst the joyful splashing
It
hit me like a bullet from a gun
Why
was I playing childish games?
With
a girl who was built to stun
So,
I looked at her and smiled
Took
her hand and called her Hon
Then
we walked barefoot in the surf
Holding
hands beneath the sun
On
a day neither of us would forget
When
our first love had begun
I wanted her
To
stay in my arms
To
be my girl for ever
But
her feelings for me
Evaporated
like mist
In
the heat of the sun
Leaving
only shadowy memories
Of
passions passed
And
I am alone
Unable
to cry the tears
I
just keep asking why
But
in the hollow void
Of
my empty heart
Only
silence echo’s
Silver moon above mountain blue
Is
there another looking at you?
Shooting
star flashing across the sky
Is
there another asking you why?
It
is my love wishing on that star
The beautiful Downshire
village of Clerembeax St Giles was situated to the west of Abbeyvale located
between Grace Hill and Bushy Down and on the outskirts was the
Clerembeax Palace Hotel
and Spa and one of the rooms was occupied by Sean and Pamela Evans who were guests at her sisters wedding.
Sean had been playing Golf with the other male
members of the wedding party while Pamela and the rest of the ladies availed
themselves of the many and varied treats and treatments on the menu at the Spa.
When Sean returned to their room late in the
afternoon he opened the door and discovered his wife standing in the middle of
the room wearing only white silk stockings on her glorious legs and her wedding
hat, worn at a jaunty angle atop her head.
Her sheathed legs, silkily sheer, from dainty well
sculptured ankle to soft lily-white thigh, were very pleasing to the eye, but
he knew from past experience that the stockings, delicately soft, would feel
cool to the touch beneath his palm, and the smooth cool silk, so temptingly
tactile, was a feast for hand and eye.
“Not that I’m complaining but why are you naked
except for stockings and a hat?” he asked
“Its “Wear a Hat Day” obviously” she replied
“Fair comment” he said and put the “Do Not Disturb”
sign on the door handle.
When the summer evening falls
The
melodic nightingale calls
This
is also the lover’s time
And
the perpetrators of crime
Then
at the passing of the night
Lovers
take cover criminals take flight
I walked hand in hand with you
Down
a country lane just we two
In
a land of a green and pleasant hue
Over
a bridge where the kingfisher flew
Through
woods full of telltale bells of blue
Across
a field wet with morning dew
Climbed
a hill amidst lamb and ewe
To
a perfect spot with an unspoilt view
Where
we could be alone just, we two
Falling in love
Is
a beautiful thing
And
love does make
The
world go round
Being
in love
Is
a beautiful thing
As
long as the world
Keeps
turning
Fall
out of love
And
the world stops
With
no beauty in it
Downshire
is a relatively small English county but that didn’t bother its inhabitants, they may not have been the biggest, but they were in no doubt that it
was the best.
And that belief was no truer than in the southern town off Abbottsford which was Downshire’s
administrative capital and the seat of the Downshire government.
It was also a place of
learning thanks to the Downshire University, it could also boast that it was a Cathedral City, was home to Abbottsford
Town football club and benefitted from the renowned Winston Churchill Hospital.
Two of the Nurses at
the hospital were Ivan Christie and Kirsten Vaughan and they were on their
first date on the Saturday night of the third weekend in March.
They had a nice meal
at an Italian restaurant called Roberto’s and then went for drinks in the
Castle Pub.
The conversation
flowed all evening, with no embarrassed silences, and on the walk home the conversation
turned to the impending clock change.
“I hate British Summer
Time” she said
“I don’t like losing
an hour of sleep, it really messes with my head”
“Well don’t look at it
so much as losing an hour’s sleep” he said “See it more as us being able to see
each other an hour sooner than we expected tomorrow”
“Ah that’s very
romantic” she said and kissed him
The Finchbottom Vale nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean
Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, and to the
east 15 miles inland from Sharpington-By-Sea, equidistant between the seaside
resort and Pepperstock Green was the rambling village of Brookley and at its
heart was St Mildred’s Church.
The villager’s
spiritual needs were met by its vicar Rev Cecil Payne who lived at the adjacent
vicarage with his wife Lily and their six unmarried daughters, Chrissie,
Daniela, Hazel, Heather, Katie and Elise.
For Lily her hopes involved the
grandchildren that were not forthcoming whereas Cecil just wanted them to
spread their wings, but as Easter loomed, there was no sign of either of them
getting their wish, but the power of prayer was a wonderful thing and both
parents prayed for their daughters.
The eldest
of whom was 32-year-old Chrissie and the only reason she was unattached was
that the object of her affections was the Curate, Graham Parker, and he was
painfully shy and was seemingly blind to her advances or more likely unable to
act on his feelings.
But with
Easter looming large she was determined to snag her man before Holy Week, she
just didn’t know exactly how.
But then on
Palm Sunday she got some divine inspiration during the service when a supplicant
stumbled in church and Graham reached out an arm and prevented her from falling
and then helped her to her pew.
However,
her first emotion was not one of inspiration, it was a feeling of overwhelming
ill will towards the congregant and intense jealousy because her man had his
arm around the stupid clumsy woman.
But then
after a brief prayer for forgiveness for her lapse of decorum in Gods house an
idea began to germinate and by the end of the service it was fully formed.
When the
service was over it was Chrissie’s job to return the hymn books to the shelf on
the back of the pew, pick up the hassock’s in preparation for the cleaners and
to collect any discarded personal items and take them to the vestry.
Graham’s
role as Curate meant that he would be outside the church with the vicar,
talking with parishioners, after which he would himself go to the vestry to
secure the church valuables to the safe.
It was in
the vestry where Chrissie intended to put her plan into effect.
After
finishing her work, she loitered about in the shadows until the congregation
had finally dispersed before she emerged but her strategy almost failed before
it began when her father called from the door
“Come along
Christine, lunch is waiting”
“Ok Dad I’m
nearly done, you go on ahead and I’ll catch you up” she replied
“Alright”
he responded and after listening to his footsteps recede she proceeded to the
vestry to find her quarry.
She was
suddenly very excited and almost broke into a run with her red hair flowing
behind her, she just hoped he would still be there when she reached the vestry.
Chrissie
stopped outside the door and took a deep breath before she opened it.
As she
pushed the door open she was relieved when she caught sight of him and he was
stood by the closet putting his coat on
“Hi Graham,
still here?” she said and he instantly blushed and looked at the floor.
“Erm hello”
Chrissie
smiled because she had seen him standing in the pulpit and hold the attention
of the entire congregation but in her presence, he could barely string a
sentence together.
He buttoned
his coat and without looking up he walked towards the door which was the very
moment she made her move and she timed it to perfection.
Just as he
passed her she pretended to stumble and just as he had with the congregant at
the service he reached out an arm and caught her just as she had hoped he
would.
Chrissie
was a few inches taller than Graham even in flat shoes so she made her move and
quickly got the better of him and using his own weight against him deposited
him on the nearest chair and quickly parked herself on his lap where she
proceeded to kiss him, and as she had been so desperate to taste his lips she
thought it might have been an anti-climax, and when at first he went rigid she feared the worst but
he gradually relaxed and when she let him come up for air she said
“You see that wasn’t so bad”
And he clearly agreed because he kissed her, and that was the long-awaited kiss she had imagined
and when it was over she added
“And it’s even better
when you join in”
That Palm
Sunday may have marked the end of his shyness but the long-awaited kiss in the
vestry was the beginning of a love that lasted into their golden years.
The world is a cold and empty place
Devoid
of beauty
When
you fall out of love
Colder
and emptier still
When
someone else
Falls
out of love with you
Grief hits like an iron fist
Cloaked
in a velvet glove
But
grief is the ultimate price
We
all have to pay for love
In every corner of my mind
An
endless moment lives
Burnt
into my memory
Glowing
like an ember
That won’t die
tormenting and taunting
A
loop of reminiscence
Constantly
reminding me
Of
the fateful moment
That
I let you go
I had high hopes of you
But
you let me down
You
turned out to be inconsistent
Shifting
like the desert dunes
And
I can see clearly that you’re
Undependable
and feckless
With
feet of clay
I
wasted too much time
Trying
to get you to commit
I
can only liken it
It is an area of stark contrasts and attracted a
variety of visitors.
The quarry hill side of the park
to the west, as the name suggests, was heavily Quarried over several hundred
years, though more extensively during the industrial revolution, the Quarries
had been un-worked for over fifty years and nature had reclaimed them and
former pits had become lakes and were very popular with anglers and the sparse
shrubbery and woodland made it popular spot with courting couples whereas the northern
crags and fells were popular with climbers and more hardy folk.
To the south and east was an extensive tract of
magnificent mixed forestry and was rivalled only by the ancient woodland of the
Dancingdean Forest, which is where the village of Pepperstock Green was
situated, and two of the residents were second year students Shermaine Mahoney and Matti Leinonen who both
attended Finchbottom College, albeit on different Courses.
They were casual acquaintances, the fact they were from the same village
and on the same college course was purely coincidental, although she had
appeared on his radar, but he very much doubted if he was on hers.
Most days they travelled home straight after College, sometimes at the
same time, sometimes separately, but occasionally they would stay in
Finchbottom for some reason or other, such as at the end of March, which was
World Theatre Day.
In order to mark the occasion, the college were given a fair number of
complimentary tickets for various theatre in the town, which were distributed
among the students on a first come first served basis.
Matti wasn’t particularly interested in the theatre, but his friend
Harry got a couple of tickets for the Finchbottom Playhouse.
“It’s not my thing” Matti said “And you won’t even tell me what the play
is”
“Oh, come on” Harry urged “It’ll be a laugh”
“So, it’s a comedy then?”
“Come with me and find out” Harry said so he reluctantly agreed
“How bad could it be” he said to himself
After they left college they went into town and ate at a burger bar
before walking to the Playhouse and when they got there he realized just how
bad it could be, and it was really bad, it was opera, but not Puccini or Verdi,
he could have coped with that, he could even have coped with Gilbert and Sullivan.
But no, it was none of them, it was modern opera, about the 1980’s Minors
Strike.
“I thought you said it would be a laugh?” Matti said when he saw the
posters
“It will be” Harry assured him
Harry was wrong, it was not fun, and at the interval Matti said
“I can’t sit through any more of this shit”
And he left Harry and his protestations in his wake and headed straight
to the railway station.
On route it began to rain so he stepped up the pace and he had his
collar up and his head down when he reached the entrance of Finchbottom station
and ran straight into another passenger trying to escape the rain and they both
ended up on their backsides.
“I’m so sorry” he said getting quickly to his feet and proffered a hand
to his prostrate victim, which was when he discovered that his victim was
Shermaine Mahoney.
“Nonsense, I wasn’t looking where I was going, my mind was elsewhere” she
replied as she took his hand
“Mine too” he said “are you ok? Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride” she replied
They dusted themselves off, figuratively speaking, and there was a brief
moment of silence.
“Are you heading back to the village too?” he asked redundantly
“Yes” she replied and looked at her watch “but we just missed our train, there’s
another in half an hour”
“Shall we get a coffee then?” he suggested
They were sitting in a café on the main concourse at a table in the
window when she asked
“So, what’ve you been up to tonight?”
“I’ve been through hell” he replied
“Bad date?”
“Worse than that” he said
“Oh, do elaborate” she urged
“I’ve been to the playhouse
Theatre watching a very bad opera about Geordie miners” he said “if they’d been Welsh
miners they might have been more musical”
“Yorkshire” she said
“What?”
“They were Yorkshire miners” she replied “According to the program”
“You were there too?”
“I was” she replied “I was dragged there by Mandy”
“And you bailed too?” he asked and laughed
“I said I had a Migraine” she said and winced
“I feel guilty, but I just had to get out of there before I got one for
real”
They were still laughing five minutes later when there was a station
announcement about their train.
“We’d better go” she said
They had just got outside when Shermaine froze like a
rabbit caught in the headlights
“What’s wrong?”
he asked
“It’s Mandy” she replied and pointed “Over there”
Matti looked where she was pointing and spotted Harry
a few paces behind her.
“Oh no there’s Harry too” he said
“Come on” she said and
took him by the hand and led him at speed across the concourse and into the far
corner
“They won’t see us in
here” she said and opened the door to the disabled toilet.
“Well it looks like
we’ve missed another train” he said
“I guess so” Shermaine
said and then she took him completely by surprise and kissed him, however a
surprise it may have been, but unwelcome it was not, and she knew that
immediately by the way he responded to her kiss, so as a result it went on
longer than she first intended when the notion came into her head to capitalise
on the situation.
“Well that’s been a
long time coming” she said when she eventually came up for air “I’m sorry I had
to pounce but I got tired of waiting for you to make a move”
“I’m not complaining”
he said “but I didn’t think I stood a chance”
“I guessed that, which
is why I needed to take drastic actions” she said “Which is why I had to
deliberately knock you on your arse and drag you into a toilet”
“I’m glad you did” he
said and then it was time for him to kiss her
“Come on” she said “or
we’ll miss the last train”
“Ok” he agreed, and
they slipped out of the disabled toilet and on to the concourse and they walked
hand in hand across to their platform.
“You know when I left
the Playhouse I thought it had been a waste of an evening” he said
“And what do you think
now?” she asked
“I would say that it
hasn’t been a complete waste” he replied “Only the first half”
“Good answer” she said
and stopped to kiss him
The beautiful
Downshire village of Clerembeax St Giles was situated to the west of Abbeyvale
located between Grace Hill and Bushy Down and on the outskirts was the
Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa.
It was once the home The Clerembeax’s, who arrived in Downshire
following the Norman conquests and stayed for a thousand years before the name
died out following the death of the reclusive Marcus Clerembeax at the age of
96.
The current owner was Yvonne Labuschagne, who decided to open it as a
Hotel and Spa.
The Spa was a good attraction, but it was crucial for them to maintain
a high occupancy rate, however things were tough in the Hotel trade with the
success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like
the Palace needed to offer something extra to attract the guests, apart from
the Spa.
So, they put on novelty weekends, such as “Murder Mysteries” and in
addition, they had a sizable Ballroom which was used for special occasions,
high days and holidays, which boosted occupancy and Spa numbers at the same
time.
But it was necessary
to offer guests as wide a range of activities as possible during their stay, to
attract them in the first place, and hopefully to come back.
But some guests came
back time and time again in pursuit of entirely different activities.
One such visitor was
Carole Went, who was a very lustful Lady, an eye-catching cougar who doused herself in heavy musk and
went on the prowl.
She was a woman on the wrong side of forty who was still a woman full
of desire, with the looks and the confidence to get what she wanted.
She was outrageously flirty and was exotic, erotic, earthy and dirty,
and swung both ways in order to get satisfaction.
Carole preferred to cast her net on nights when there was either a
function on in the ballroom, or a stag do or hen night, when she knew she could
play the percentages to ensnare her prey.
Carole walked into the bar looking for someone to satisfy her desire
and the bar was full of randy young men on a stag weekend and on that night,
she chose a young man twenty years her junior called Tony, to satisfy her
urges.
Lustful Carole took him to her room and used him and abused him and
extracted every ounce of pleasure from him until he was a spent force.
She awoke in the early hours and sighed
before congratulating herself on a job well done and lay there for about twenty
minutes before she sat up and sat on the bed watching him, rerunning the earlier
events through her head, subconsciously selecting those specific moments that were
most memorable.
As he stirred Carole
wondered if he would do the same when he was awake and what moments they would
be.
Tony opened his eyes
and looked at her watching him and then she pulled the blanket off him and said
“I hope you’re ready
to go again”
There is beauty in the world
Not
the fake painted on kind
True
beauty doesn’t wear
The
artificial gloss of glamour
Or
the mask of vanity
True
natural beauty
Is
hidden in a maiden fair
Who
lives blissfully unaware
Of
her great gift
Because
the greatest beauty of all
Resides
within
Many things break my heart in two
But
the hardest thing to see
Is
you softly speaking words of love
I would cross an arid desert plain
Sail
upon a sea of hurt and pain
Traverse
landscapes bleak and bare
Climb
great mountains of despair
Navigate
thru skies black with thunder
And
lightning bolts to strike asunder
This
and so much more I will gladly do
Just to spend some time with you
The beautiful Downshire village of
Clerembeax St Giles was situated to the west of Abbeyvale located between Grace
Hill and Bushy Down and on the outskirts was the Clerembeax Palace Hotel and
Spa and it was the location of the St Patricks Day
party, and one of the guests was 54-year-old widowed Doctor Daniel Swann,
who was a resident of the village.
He was a local GP, who lived alone in a
house that was too big for him, but he kept it on because his children were all
grown up with families of their own and they were regular visitors.
When he wasn’t playing host to his
children and grandchildren he threw himself into his work, but on the night of
the St Patricks Day party, he wasn’t on call, so his colleagues persuaded him
to take full advantage of his night off and let his hair down.
So, taking their advice he did just that
and was drinking well into the small hours and it was after 3am before he
returned to his house and got to his bed.
The next day when he finally arose, he
walked downstairs to find
Anna Wachowicz hard at work with a
J-cloth, and Anna, it should be pointed out, was his house keeper and not an
exotic dancer, although he wouldn’t have minded watching her perform.
“Morning Anna” he said, having forgotten
it was cleaning day, and he usually made himself scarce when she was about as
she was a bit surly.
“I think you’ll find it’s nearer the
afternoon Doctor” she corrected him.
But even though she was a surly specimen
she was a marvellous house keeper and a wonderful cook, but even if she was
neither of those, the circumstances were such that he considered her to be very
attractive.
Anna was also widowed but was a few years
younger than he and she had no children, but he suspected that was regretful,
because she always made a great fuss of the grandchildren when they were
visiting.
But when it was just the two of them she
had the knack of making Daniel feel like he was in the way and he found her to
be incredibly intimidating, so he quickly made himself a coffee and made his
way to the study, to the echoes of “I haven’t done in there yet”
He closed the door and switched on the
computer and opened email and set about the oldest unread mail first.
After checking through his inbox there
were none of any interest or pressing importance, so he finished his coffee and
decided after a quick shower he would escape the house while Anna went about
her duties.
First of all, he went to the pub, Étienne
of Normandy, known locally as Ettie’s, and had a hair of the dog, then he went
for a long walk in the surrounding countryside, it was a grey overcast day with
a chill wind keeping the rain away, albeit temporary, but nonetheless he didn’t
return home until after four o’clock.
Because his feet were muddy he went around
the back of the house and entered via the boot room.
Having shed his outdoor clothes and his
dirty footwear he emerged into the kitchen when he found Anna standing by the
cooker and when she turned to see who had entered he saw her eyes were red and
her cheeks were wet with tears, so he went straight into concerned Doctor mode.
“My dear Anna, whatever is the matter?” he
said and put a reassuring arm around her “What on earth has upset you so?”
She opened her mouth to speak but he
pulled her towards him, so her face was buried in his chest, and as he made
encouraging noises her shoulders began to shake.
“There, there, let it all out” he said and
then she pushed herself away from his chest and she was laughing.
“I wasn’t crying” she said, and he looked
blankly at her
“I’ve been peeling onions” she explained
“They are really strong” she added and then roared with laughter and a split
second later he was laughing too.
When the laughter had subsided, he gave
her a handkerchief to dry her eyes, and she smiled and thanked him, but when
she handed it back the look that passed between them was of a different nature
and then they were kissing.
“Well I didn’t see that coming” Daniel
said as he lay half naked on the sofa with a similarly clothed Anna draped
across him with her head on his chest.
“No, nor did I” she agreed
“In fact, I always thought you didn’t like
me” he added
“That was just a smoke screen to hide
behind” she admitted
“To hide what?” he asked and then he felt
her tense and take a deep breath
“That I love you,” she said
“Steady” he said “you’ll make me blush”
“Oh God I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“Hush” he said and kissed the top of her
head
“I love you too”
“You do?” she asked and lifted her head to
look at him and this time there were genuine tears in her eyes “Truly?”
“Yes, I really do love you” he replied and
kissed her head again
“But…”
“Oh, please don’t let there be a “but””
she said sat up in alarm
“But” he repeated “I think we should move
to somewhere more comfortable”
“Oh yes Doctor” she said as she covered
herself up, and blushed “Whatever you say Doctor”
She had amber eyes
Which
marked her out
Such a rare and beautiful hue
You
might say it made her special
And
special she was
This
girl with amber eyes
But
not for the rarity of the hue
But
for an even rarer quality
This
girl with amber eyes
Was
so special because
She
was beautiful inside and out
The news came,
As
bad news does
Out
of the blue
At
breakneck speed
And
hit me like a train
With
deaths hateful sting
Numbing
me to the core
Leaving
me speechless
And
too arid to cry
Before
the pain burst through
Bringing
forth the bitter tears loves
Despair
washed over me
Until
I was drowning in sadness
I
sank in its frigid waters
To
the depths of my soul
So
bitter was the news
The
loss so acute
I
was broken in two
Lying
beaten
On
the ground
I
could feel no worse
I
could sink no lower
Then
like kicking an injured dog
Remorse
hit me
Like
a tidal wave
Knocking
me off my feet
Why
didn’t I tell him?
Why
didn’t I say?
I
love you too
Beneath the sun on the Isle of Wight
I
first laid eyes on the lovely Gill
And
on that sweet summers day
I
lost my heart forever at Robin Hill
