Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean and he worked for the Forest Ridge Golf Club.
He was a tall man in his late twenties and stood six foot three inches tall so he towered above his diminutive colleague, Jenny Lucas, as they walked along platform one at Forest Dean station.
The reason they were there was because they were boarding the 9.30 train to Abbottsford and the reason they were boarding the train was because they had both won tickets in the Golf Club draw, for the County Championship one day cricket match between Downshire and Surrey at the Abbottsfield cricket ground.
They boarded the train in the First class compartment, neither of them travelled first class normally so they quickly made them selves comfortable.
They had barely left the station before Jenny was asleep with her head on his shoulder so while she was sleeping against him 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 them, a tall willowy blonde with outstandingly stellar legs, who was very pretty, but was very well aware of the fact and she positively preened when she realized Paul was admiring her legs, but he soon lost interest when he noticed she had mutilated herself with numerous tattoos, which was a major turn off for him, it was like an ice cold shower to his lust.
He turned his attention to a 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 to tell which way she was facing let alone see her figure
Her legs were nice though, ensconced in black tights and she had tiny feet, he geusstimated her age at somewhere between 18 and 25.
She ticked quite a few boxes for him and even if the contents of her sweater turned out to be a disappointment he would have been content to be with someone like her.
The leggy blonde on seeing his transfer of allegiance huffed quite loudly and flounced off to another part of the carriage.
He would probably have continued to appraise the mousy girl for the rest of the journey had his eyes not been drawn towards a woman of a very different class altogether.
The woman in that caught his eye was dressed up to the nines and looked stunning in a peach coloured suit and matching accessories and was stylishly coordinated from hat to shoes.
She was older than him by at least 10 years but she was lovely with short brown hair and hazel eyes and a delicious smile.
The lady in question was 40 year old, unhappily married, Francesca Carrington-Webber, a slim, five foot four beauty, who was also travelling to Abbottsford for the Cricket although she had no interest in the sport or the sound of leather on willow, her interest lay in the sound of champagne corks and the chinking of crystal glasses.
As the train approached the station Paul and Jenny got up and she headed towards the door, he followed close behind, and as the train stopped he looked about the carriage for the lady in the peach suit and he spotted the diminutive beauty by the door at the other end of the carriage.
The doors opened and he kept her in view as he stepped onto the platform, and managed to keep his quarry in sight for more than fifty yards along the platform but as the passengers funneled through the gate he lost her and try as he might, even with his height advantage, he couldn’t find her again.
It was a glorious June day and there was a good crowd at the Cricket Ground and Paul Ingram and Jenny Lucas were among them as was the lovely Francesca Carrington-Webber, though due to the numbers Paul was oblivious to her presence and she to his.
Downshire were in great form and Surrey were all out for 165 with 12 overs to spare and Downshire won the match by sixty runs and the delighted fans disgorged onto the streets of Abbottsford in great spirits even before the tea interval.
Paul and Jenny decided on the walk back to the station to stop for a pint or two along the way, they made slow progress however due to the throng and bypassed the first three pubs because of the huge crowds but their perseverance paid off as the crowds began to thin out, as people started to disappear up side roads in search of their cars and they were able to lengthen their stride.
They decided on the Downshire Castle as their port of call and when they got their drinks they sat in the beer garden discussing the cricket.
After about half an hour when he had just drained his glass he caught sight of the lovely woman in the peach suit from the train, and when she saw him she waved, unfortunately he couldn’t go after her because she was sat in the back of a taxi.
So Paul and Jenny had one more drink and then continued on their way to the station.
Abbottsford station was very busy and their train was already on the platform.
Once on the train Jenny sat opposite him and he knew that one of two things would happen, he would either fall asleep within minutes of the train departing the station or he would get some grossly overweight passenger sharing his seat.
As it turned out the moment his head touched the headrest he was asleep, however he hadn’t been asleep long, when he was rudely awakened by a newly embarked passenger who trod on his foot.
Then realising what they had done the figure turned round.
“I’m so sorry, did I tread on you?” the figure said but didn’t turn around.
Not that Paul would have noticed if they had as he was too busy looking at his foot.
Just then the train jerked and the clumsy passenger fell into his lap but she quickly pushed back against him with her buttocks and scrambled unsteadily to her feet without him getting a look at them.
“Sorry” she said and as she did so he was able to detect the aroma of alcohol.
Then the train lurched once more and she again fell against him and again she scrambled to her feet.
“Sorry” she said once more and this time he got to look at his assailant, it was the lovely Lady I the peach suit Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Just then the train jerked and the clumsy passenger fell into his lap but she quickly pushed back against him with her buttocks and scrambled unsteadily to her feet without him getting a look at them.
“Sorry” she said and as she did so he was able to detect the aroma of alcohol.
Then the train lurched once more and she again fell against him and again she scrambled to her feet.
“Sorry” she said once more and this time he got to look at his assailant, it was the lovely Lady I the peach suit Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Not that he knew that was her name, he just knew her as the woman in the peach suit that he had seen on the train that morning.
While Paul was admiring her at close quarters the train lurched and she fell into his lap for the third time.
This time as she scrambled up he tried to aid her ascent by pushing her up, but instead he accidently got intimate with her buttocks.
“Sorry” she said again
“For goodness sake stop apologizing” he chastised her and he sat her down on the seat beside him
“Thank you” she said with a giggle “I’m Francesca”
“Pleased to meet you” he said “I’m Paul”
Jenny was fast asleep in the seat opposite and was snoring so Paul filmed her on his phone.
“Does your girlfriend always snore?” Francesca asked
“Jenny’s not my girlfriend” he replied “She’s just a colleague”
Paul went on to explain why they were together and what they had been doing all day.
“And is she happy about just being colleagues?” she asked
“Oh yes she’s very happy” he said “Jen plays for the other team”
“Ah so where is your girlfriend then?” Francesca asked
“There isn’t one at the moment” he replied
“Really? I am surprised” she said and blushed
“So what’s a beautiful woman like you doing out on her own?”
He asked
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she said blushing again
“Why not? It’s true,” Paul said “Someone as lovely as you must have a significant other in your life”
“An insignificant other more like” she snapped and he raised an eyebrow
“Husband” she clarified
“So where is he?” he asked in amazement because if she had been his wife he wouldn’t have let her out of his sight.
“Either playing Golf or drinking with his mates and talking about Golf” she relied matter of factly.
Paul could tell she was unhappy, so not wanting to upset her he steered the conversation back to more light hearted matters
Shortly after that the driver announced that they were approaching Forest Dean she said with a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“That’s my stop,”
“Mine too” he said then added, “I wish it wasn’t”
“Me too” she said “I was enjoying our chat”
He woke Jenny and introduced her and Francesca by which time the train had pulled into the station.
Francesca got unsteadily to her feet and when the doors opened he offered her his arm to help her on to the platform, but once she had hold of it she was not inclined to let it go.
After going through the barriers Jenny said good night and rushed off to the car park where her girlfriend was waiting.
Francesca had already mentioned in conversation that she was getting a cab home, so the code of chivalry dictated what he should do, so he offered to walk her to the taxi rank.
After going through the barriers Jenny said good night and rushed off to the car park where her girlfriend was waiting.
Francesca had already mentioned in conversation that she was getting a cab home, so the code of chivalry dictated what he should do, so he offered to walk her to the taxi rank.
When they reached the taxi’s Francesca was second in line and when the first cab pulled away and the next one rolled along she announced
“This is me, this is my ride”
“Allow me to open the door dear lady” he said pompously
“You are too kind Sir Knight” she responded trying to curtsy but failing.
He helped her into the back seat and then leant in and fastened her belt.
“There you are my lady” he said and in response she kissed his cheek.
“Thank you” she said and then he closed the door and he watched as the cab drove away and took the lovely Francesca out of his life and he doubted he would ever see her again, but he was wrong.
It was six weeks later and Paul was spending the weekend in Sharpington, at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park, where he had a static caravan.
It had belonged to his parents since he and his sister were kids, and they had spent a lot of time there, especially in the school holidays.
His parents hadn’t used it for years as they had switched their allegiances from an English seaside caravan park to a Costa del Sol villa.
So they were going to sell up but Paul begged them to keep it on, at least for a few years, and eventually they relented, on the proviso that he used it more than once a year, so he assured them that he would and he was good to his word.
In fact he was there at least once a month, even when the weather was rubbish he would still go, just to have some quiet time, walking on the beach or catching up with his reading,
But what took him to Sharpington in the middle of July was a wedding reception at the Palladium Ballroom on the promenade.
The wedding was between his boss at the Forest Ridge Golf Club and the daughter of the Mayor of Sharpington.
He didn’t really want to go, it wasn’t his kind of thing at all, but as he had the caravan he thought he would just put in an appearance for an hour, as it turned out he stayed for three.
He had had enough long before the three hours were up but had trouble getting away, he finally had to leave via the emergency exit.
Once he had escaped he went for a walk along the promenade and hoped the fresh air would help with the head ache brought on by the stuffy heat and banging music at the reception.
He was in sight of the end and was preparing to cross the road and climb the steep path up to Whitecliff Hill when he spotted a small figure huddled on the bench ahead of him in some distress.
“Is everything ok?” he asked and the figure turned around to reveal the tearstained face of Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Once he had escaped he went for a walk along the promenade and hoped the fresh air would help with the head ache brought on by the stuffy heat and banging music at the reception.
He was in sight of the end and was preparing to cross the road and climb the steep path up to Whitecliff Hill when he spotted a small figure huddled on the bench ahead of him in some distress.
“Is everything ok?” he asked and the figure turned around to reveal the tearstained face of Francesca Carrington-Webber.
“Oh it’s you” she said the moment she saw Paul and was up on her feet and rushing into his arms but was unable to speak for several minutes as Paul held her and she sobbed.
When her sobs had subsided and her breathing calmed he thought it was a good moment to ask her what he was eager to know.
“Why are you here?” he asked
“I’ve been to the Yacht Club Dinner Dance” she replied
“No I mean why are you here? On the promenade” he explained “And why are you so upset”
“My husband” she replied and realising that that didn’t really answer his question she added
“He decided he would rather get drunk at the bar with his mates than dance with his wife”
“Well he’s a fool” Paul said
“Thank you” she said and dabbed at her cheeks and shivered.
It wasn’t a particularly cool evening, but there was a light breeze off the sea and she was wearing a backless cocktail dress.
“Here slip this on” he said and put his jacket around her shoulders.
“Thank you” she said and smiled weakly
“You should go back in the warm” he advised
“No” she replied vehemently “I don’t want to go back in there”
“Okay then how about we go and have a coffee” he suggested
“Yes that would be nice” Francesca replied brightly
Unfortunately they were at the northern end of the promenade, which was some distance from the nearest coffee place, so he said
“Well we can either walk down to the pier, or if you don’t mind slumming it, we can go up to Whitecliff Hill and have a coffee in the caravan.
“Oh the caravan would be lovely, I won’t have to hide my face from anyone then” she said “I must look a real fright”
“Not to me” Paul responded
“Your very sweet to say that” she said and put her arm through his and as they walked arm in arm up the steep path up to Whitecliff Hill.
He felt really proud to have such a beautiful woman on his arm, in fact she was a stunningly beautiful looking woman, a real head turner and a really classy lady which made him even prouder.
As they walked the conversation flowed between them and was very light-hearted and the time past in an instant.
Once they reached the caravan Paul opened the door and let her in and immediately put the kettle and made a drink and the conversation continued to flow between them during which he discovered she and her husband were staying the night at the Seaview Hotel.
After their second cup of coffee Paul looked at his watch and was surprised at the lateness of the hour.
“My God have you seen the time?” he exclaimed “I’d better get you back to the Hotel, your husband will be wondering where you are”
“I doubt he’s even noticed” she retorted “but I agree I should get going, but there’s no need for you to escort me”
“Oh yes there is” he corrected her as he slipped his jacket back over her shoulders “there’s no way I’m letting you walk back to Sharpington at this hour on your own”
“You really are very sweet” she said and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but instead of peck on the cheek she kissed his mouth, and his jacket fell off her shoulders.
It was two hours later when he woke up in his bed with Francesca draped across him with her head on his chest.
His hand was resting on her hip so he caressed her from hip to buttock and he kissed the top of her head and in response she hugged his torso and sighed.
After a few moments he said
“I really do think I should walk you back to the Hotel”
“Oh do I have to?” she replied “I don’t want to go”
“I don’t want you to go either” he said “but you should”
“You don’t want me to?” she asked with surprise
“No I don’t” Paul said and kissed her
“Well as you’re not trying to get rid of me I can leave with head held high” she said “apart from the two counts of adulterous behavior”
“I thought for a moment you’d forgotten about that” he said
“That’s not likely” she said “Now turn your back,”
“Why?” He asked
“So I can get dressed”
“But I’ve already seen everything” Paul said proudly
“That was when we were making love” she corrected him
“This is different”
“Oh ok” Paul said and turned his back to her
“And no peeking” she said over her shoulder
“Ok” he agreed and he thought it was rather cute that even after what they had done she was still acting shy, that was a real point scorer, not that she needed any more points, she had already out scored any woman he had ever known.
“Now you can look,” she said and when he turned around she was wearing the blue cocktail dress again and his jacket was back around her shoulders.
It was a few minute before 4am when they set off from the caravan for the walk down to Sharpington.
It was a much easier walk down from Whitecliff than it was on the upward journey.
They went arm in arm along the well-used and well-lit road and then entered Jubilee Park, which was very quiet and very dark and he was thankful that he had insisted on escorting her.
They exited the park and continued arm in arm down towards the Palladium, and when they reached the end they stopped in the shadows.
“You’d better not come any further” she said “Just in case”
Paul agreed and they shared a long lingering goodnight kiss.
“I’ll watch you all the way” he said and kissed her again and then good to his word he watched her until she reached the Hotel and climbed the steps, where she paused and smiled before going in.
Francesca had mixed feelings as she walked to the reception desk to collect her key card, predominantly feelings of guilt because she had been unfaithful to her husband, for the first time in 18 years of marriage, but she also felt rather pleased with herself for making love with a handsome, kind, caring and gentlemanly guy and she didn’t meet many of them.
However when she reached the desk and discovered both hers and her husband’s key cards were still unclaimed her feeling of guilt melted away.
As Paul made the trek back up to Whitecliff he had to admit to himself that he had lost his heart to Francesca and hoped that that special night was the beginning of something even more special.
And he reflected on the circumstances of their burgeoning relationship which began with them meeting as strangers on a train and ended six weeks later with as lovers in a caravan.
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