Saturday 7 May 2022

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (52) Age is just a Number

 

Twenty-eight-year-old Paul Ingram was involved 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.

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.

 

They became involved after three chance meetings, two on a train and the third more significant one was on the Promenade in Sharpington, where he came upon her small huddled figure on the bench ahead of him in some distress.

And when he asked

“Is everything ok?”

She turned around to reveal her tearstained face and when she saw it was Paul she exclaimed

“Oh it’s you”

And the moment she said it she 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.

 

But in the days that followed she avoided him and dodged his calls, so it wasn’t until 2 weeks after they made love, when he was running an errand in Shallowfield that he ran into her in the pub car park.

After a brief conversation they drove up to a secluded part of the Dancing Dean Forest where they could share a passionate embrace, after which 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.

 

Even after they had bared their souls to each other, Francesca still had doubts, partly because of the guilt, but mainly because she was 12 years older than him.

Even without the complication of her doubts they found it difficult to snatch even five minutes together, so after he saw her go into Stephenson’s Supermarket he followed her in to the shop in the hope that they might at least be in close proximity to one another.

Unfortunately every time he got anywhere near her she was in conversation with someone, so it was with a feeling of frustration that he made his way to the checkout.

While he was queuing, Francesca and a friend joined the adjacent queue where he heard her say.

“I am a lady of leisure this weekend” 

“How come?” her friend asked

“David is away on a golfing weekend and mum and dad have the girls” Francesca said and although she was talking to her friend, the statement was very clearly meant for him, so from that he believed he was expected at her house on Saturday night.

 

Paul Ingram knew from the earlier overheard conversation in Stephenson’s Supermarket, between Francesca Carrington-Webber and her friend, that she was going to be alone in the house most of the weekend as her husband was away and her parents had taken the children.

Although she was talking to a friend, the statement was very definitely meant for him, so he knew he was expected at the house on Saturday night.

 

He was later setting off than he intended as he had trouble shaking off his mates, but eventually he managed to give them the slip in the pub and went out the back door.

Once outside he headed towards the Vicarage and then turned down the lane by the church, which led to the path that crossed the golf course.

From there he traversed the course until he reached the back of Francesca’s house and he was pleased to see some of the house lights were still on.

Paul kept to the shadows and made his way up to the house and tapped on the window.

It took a few minutes, but then Francesca appeared at the door, already in her nightclothes and when she saw him she gave him a dazzling smile and opened the door

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she said

“I couldn’t get away” he responded while he admired her in her silk nightie.

“Oh that looks nice”

“You are incorrigible” she said and laughed as she re-tied her dressing gown, and then she took his hand and pulled him in through the door and closed it behind him, drawing the curtain and then immediately slithered up against him and kissed his mouth.

“I thought you’d had second thoughts” she said coyly

“Why would I do that?” he asked

“Why do you think?” she added and he looked blankly at her

“Because I’m 12 years older than you”

“That doesn’t matter to me” he said

“It should do” Francesca retorted “I’m 41 next birthday, and you’re only 28”

“I don’t care about that” he assure her “Age is just a number”

“It isn’t though is it?” she insisted “it matters”

“No, the only thing that matters is that I love you” Paul said and Francesca wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

 

“Would you like a glass of wine darling?” she asked when she had finished

“Yes please”

“Where would you like it?” she asked

“Bed I think” he answered

“You really are incorrigible” she said and giggled

“Is that a no then?”

“Yes, but I admire your good choice” she said “but you know I can’t”

“Anywhere would have been a good choice” he told her “and anywhere would have been special”

“Shut up and come and sit in the lounge” she ordered so he followed Francesca as she walked along the hall and into the lounge.

 

They sat cuddled up on the sofa and talked late into the night, the converse interspersed with periods of kissing, and then Francesca let him out the kitchen door and he reversed his earlier journey with her words of love reverberating in his head.

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