Snippets of Downshire Life – Feast of St Andrew

 

The traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, has all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park and it was in the grand neighbourhood of Granite Hill, which in a nod to San Francisco, the locals had nicknamed Nob Hill where local Children’s Writer, Alesha Khan, was hosting a dinner party, and among the guests were Kerry Freeborn and Sharon Blackburn, a pair of visiting thespians.

 

The hostess had first met Kerry after they both took part in the World Book Day events at Sharpington Library and they became friends, but that evening was the first time Sharon and Alesha had met.

 

There was a period of reacquaintance with the guest that she knew and formal introductions to those she didn’t but then after a brief chat with her guests Alesha had to excuse herself to check on the food, so it was upto the guests to amuse themselves.

In addition to the hostess Alesha, were a skinny young woman of a similar age, Kim Labuschagne, an illustrator, who was an old school friend, who also assisted in the kitchen, then there was Alesha’s brother Zach, an artist, Russell Glavin, the new curate of St Lucy’s, Henry Appleby, Church Warden of same, Literary agents, Jayson and Kathryn Mercer, and Tim Street who was a Local Historian, so it was an interesting bunch.

 

Kerry and Sharon got to know each other when they both worked on a very popular TV soap and during their time on the show they became very good friends, and over the years, in addition to the soap they had also worked in the theatre and even in pantomime, which was why they were both in Sharpington, at the Bluebird Theatre, doing panto, playing the ugly sisters in Cinderella, which was intended to be ironic given the way they looked.

At 30 years old, Kerry was stunningly attractive, slim with shoulder length brunette hair and hazel eyes but even Sharon, who was three years older, put her friend in the shade with her looks.

Sharon was slightly taller and a little curvier than Kerry with a shock of flame red hair, so it wasn’t their looks that kept them single.

Their problem was that in their profession it was difficult to meet men, well the right kind of men at any rate, and had over the years grown weary of being hit on by all the usual suspects.

Men who wanted to either be seen with a famous actress on their arm or wanted the glamour lifestyle they imagined went along with being a successful actor or on the baser level just wanted to have sex with a celebrity.

There was another obvious alternative to those types of men, and that was to date someone from their own world, someone on a par with them, but in their experience most actors tended to have huge egos and small personalities.

So, despite their professional success they were no different to any other human being, looking for love or companionship or a family.

What they needed was someone who would like them or love them for who they were rather than thinking of them as a backstage pass to a celebrity life.

But neither of them were actively looking for anyone so it came as a complete surprise to meet a serious candidate at dinner party in a small seaside town.

But not only had Sharon met someone, she was instantly smitten, and that was even before she knew who he was.

The man in question was Zach Khan, older brother of the hostess, and a renowned artist, and from the first minute she saw him she was besotted and she hung on his every word, not that there were a lot of them, as he was rather shy, unlike his sister, who was outgoing and bubbly, he was reflective and guarded.

But Sharon wasn’t going to let that derail her, after all she could talk enough for the two of them, and when the time came for them to take their seats she found that she was seated opposite him and she gave him her full and undivided attention.

 

“I went to your exhibition in Abbottsford last year” she said “at the Beumont Gallery”

“Really?” he said doubtfully

“Yes I was in a play at the Empire and I passed the gallery every day on my way to the theatre, so I went in every day” she confessed

“Everyday?” he said with a smile “Even I wasn’t there every day”

“I must confess that the first time was more about having time to kill, than art, but it was art that took me back again and again”

“Well thank you for that”

“I would have gone more often but it wasn’t on long enough” she said “I was horrified one Monday morning to find you had been replaced by some ill conceived art installation”

“You are clearly a woman of taste” he said and raised his glass to her and she returned his toast

“So what was you favorite piece” he asked, expecting her to say something glib in return such as

“I liked them all”

He hoped he was wrong because he liked her.

“That’s really difficult” she replied “you’ve put me on the spot now”

“Oh dear” he thought

“There are actually three”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t pin it down to one, so I have three pieces that I particularly liked” she said

“Tell me more” he instructed her desperate now to hear

“Two of them are paintings, “Umbrella Girl” and “The Defiant Harlot”“ she said “and the other was a sculpture “Spirit of Ecstacy Aflame”.

“Wow, I’m impressed that you remembered the names” he said “Most people say, “I liked the fairy with flames instead of wings”“ he said in a Monty Python voice and she laughed and then he went thoughtful and said

“Wait a minute, you were at the Empire Theatre while the exhibition was on”

“Yes” she admitted

“In Blue Blooded Murder?” he asked, impressed that he knew the name of the rather indifferent play

“Yes that’s right” she replied and then he studied her closely and put his hands up the frame her face, they way a film director would do

“Aha” he exclaimed “You were the murderer”

“Yes I was” she giggled

“You didnt have your lovelly red mane on show though” he said and she blushed at the compliment

“No it was under a black wig” she admitted, and then she whispered “it wasn’t a very good play”

“Well I liked it” he said “I actually went twice”

 

The remainder of the evening passed in the same easy manner until it was time to leave and they were suddenly thanking Alesha, who was at the front door saying goodbye to her guests in turn, and then they were outside.

Sharon was in a bit of a quandry because she was getting on so well with Zach that she didn’t really want the evening to end, and she would really have rather gone somewhere for a quiet drink than go back to the hotel.

But she was also mindful of the fact that she had gone there with Kelly and she didn’t want to ditch her.

So she and Zach, just hung around and waited to see what Kelly was going to do, he had noticed that she was getting on really well with Jayson, and just when she was about to accept the inevitable and walk back to the hotel with her friend she heard Jayson ask

“Are you staying at the Seaview?”

“Yes, we both are” Kelly replied

“Well why don’t I walk you there” he suggested “I’m sure Zach will be happy to escort Sharon” 

“Yes indeed” he said, and Sharon nodded vigorously

“We’ll be right behind you”

 

“Are you in a hurry to get back?” Zack asked as the ambled down the road to Sharpington Promenade from the heights of Granite Hill, with the gap between them and Jayson and Kelly lengthening with every step.

“No, not really, why?”

“Well there’s a little club just off the promenade called the Tainted Angel” he said “We could have a nightcap”

“The Tainted Angel?”

“Yes, though it’s not as seedy as the name suggests” he replied with a chuckle

“Oh well that’s ok then” she said “I’m in your hands”

“I like the sound of that” he said and put his arm through hers.

 

The Tainted Angel was located in a side street very close to the Hotel and when she first saw it her first impression was that the façade certainly didn’t hint at any seediness and Sharon was also pleasantly surprised with the interior, which was quite classy with its plush seating and moody lighting.

It was ostensibly a jazz club as hinted at by the artwork on the walls and in one corner was a small stage, which suggested there was live music at times, though not then, but there were jazz tunes emanating from the speakers. 

After getting their drinks from the bar they chose a quiet corner table from where they could see everything that was going on.

“This is nice” she said

“I like it” he agreed

“The music is good too” she said

“You like listening to Jazz?” Zach asked

“I do” she replied “But I like to play it as well”

“You do not!” he said incredulously “You’re a musician? What do you play?”

“Clarinet” she replied and smiled broadly “All the best Jazz is played on the Clarinet”

“That’s a bold statement, what about the Trumpet, Armstrong is sublime” he protested

“Yes, I know, and Kenny Baker’s Sax, Bix Beiderbecke’s Cornet and Oscar Petersen’s on Piano” she said passionately “But I will just say this, Artie Shaw, Benny Goodman and Acker Bilk, and then I will rest my case”

“Wow” he said “you’re irrepressible”

“I know it’s the red hair” she retorted and laughed

“So, when do you play?”

“As and when” she replied “There is a bunch of fellow Thesps who play wherever and whenever we can, Kelly plays piano”

“You should play here while you’re in Sharpington” he suggested “The owner would be thrilled”

“You know the owner then?”

“Kind off” he replied “I am the owner”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, I also own the Jazz Shack in Abbeyvale and I co-own Beiderbecke’s in Finchbottom” he said as he got up “Another drink?”

“Please”

 

The drinks kept coming as they sat and talked and they covered a lot of ground but as the time wore on what Sharon really wanted to talk about was him, the personal stuff, she knew he was an Artist who liked Jazz and the Theatre, but there was one vital area they hadn’t covered, so as the hour reached 2am and the drink had taken effect on her she asked.

“What about you?”

“What?” he replied

“What about you?” she repeated this time with more than a hint of a slur “are you spoken for?”

And she then reran the question in her head and was alarmed by the realization of what she had actually said

“What I meant to say is… um… err… are you… erm…”

And he smiled as he watched her struggle and get more and more flustered but decided to put her out of her misery.

“I’m single”

“Oh” she responded trying to appear indifferent “still not met the right girl?”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly” he replied but didn’t elaborate.

“What about you?” he asked

“Oh, still footloose and fancy free” Sharon replied

“That’s good to know” he said and then checked his watch and added “I’d better get you home Cinders”

“I’m not Cinders” she corrected him “I’m an ugly sister, can you believe that, bloody cheek”

 

It was only a short walk from the Club to the Hotel and she held on to him very tightly, not so much out of necessity than of lust. 

“I hope you didn’t mind me asking if you were… you know” she said “But I know what you Bohemian Arty types are like”

“Oh, and what are we like?” he asked

“A muse in every Garret” she retorted and dissolved into laughter, and she laughed so much that she had tears in her eyes, but when she looked up at him through tear filled eyes he kissed her, and what a kiss, it was the sort of kiss lovers longed for, and dreamt of

“So, what does this mean?” she asked when their lips parted

“What would you like it to mean?” he asked

“That you’re my bohemian and I’m you muse” she replied

“That’s precisely what it means” he said, and they kissed again.