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 takes place in the southern town off
Abbottsford which was the biggest in Downshire, its administrative capital and
the seat of the Downshire government.
It was also a place of learning thanks to the Downshire University and
was a Cathedral
City and was also home to Abbottsford
Town football club.
Charlotte and Philip
McDowell were on their way to the Cathedral for a memorial service and as was
the norm they walked through Cathedral Park to get there.
It was a busy in the Park
because it was a glorious day, as it always was when the sun was shining, and
there was always a greater concentration around the boating lake.
They were often in the park,
so it was nothing out of the ordinary for but on that particular occasion it
was not only a lovely bright afternoon, very sunny and very warm, but as it was
a Bank Holiday, so it attracted even more visitors scurrying about.
Even so the McDowell’s expected
nothing untoward until Charlotte said
“What’s going on?”
“What?” he asked and tried
to follow her gaze, and when he had established he was looking in the same
place as she was he saw that there was a girl in a skimpy dress walking towards
them who appeared to be causing something of a stir.
“Isn’t that Claire
Hammond?” he asked
“Yes, I think so” she
replied
Claire was someone they
had known for a few years, and they had a mutual dislike for each other, and she
was a rather innocuous looking girl certainly more than mildly attractive but
not a stunner or of movie star calibre.
She definitely suffered
from pretty girl syndrome, and though she was attractive she thought she
was far more beautiful than all
other women around her, and yet she was causing every head to turn, male and
female, young and old.
Men’s jaws dropped to the
floor and their eyes stood out on stalks and women looked sternly and shook
their collective heads.
But this behaviour was not
restricted to pedestrians, cyclist’s, drivers, rowers and Pedalo passengers
joined in the ogling.
“What are they all gawping
at?” Philip asked
“No idea” She replied also
questioning if this unremarkable girl was worthy of all the attention.
But as she passed them,
without them acknowledging each other, they continued to follow her with their
gaze and the reason for the head turning soon became apparent.
The hem of her skirt had
snagged on the bottom of her shoulder bag rendering her rear aspect exposed from
the waist downward.
Though it wasn’t that in
itself which had elicited the response she had received, that was due solely to
the fact she had neglected to wear any pants.
As she continued on and
turned more heads Philip asked his wife
“Do you think we should tell
her?”
“No way” she replied “Serves
her right for being so vane”
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