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, soon to be divorced 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 after some tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his
caravan.
Since that night they had had a non-physical relationship and on the
rare occasions that they managed to get to spend some time together they always
made the most of it, sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes
they just happened and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but
the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his
caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her
husband David but that she was staying the night.
On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night
together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create
opportunities and on occasion it took planning.
But there were even rarer occasions on which there was a combination
of the two.
It was early on a bright May Saturday morning when he was just leaving
the clubhouse at the Forest Ridge Golf Club.
“Paul darling” a voice said in familiar tones and he turned round to
see the lovely Francesca dressed up to the nines.
She looked stunning in a lemon coloured suit and matching accessories,
as usual she was stylishly coordinated from hat to shoes and everything in
between.
“Hello Francesca, where are you off to?” he asked even though he knew
the answer
“My sister Adrienne’s wedding” she said raising her eyebrows “Number
four”
“Well you look gorgeous as usual,” he said as he gave her an
appraising gaze. “Immaculately accessorised”
“Well thank you kind sir” she said
“Everything matching?” he asked raising an eyebrow
“Everything darling” she whispered “as usual”
“So what are you doing here?” he asked
“Well I do have a rather convoluted tale of the why’s and wherefores,
but to tell the truth I just came to show off the outfit”
She confessed and then she smiled in the very cute way she had where her
nose wrinkled.
“And the place is deserted” she said and shrugged “what about you?”
“I was looking for someone to play with,” he said
“And we all know what kind of game you like to play” she said cheekily
“Well you should know better than most” he whispered and Francesca
blushed.
“Do you want to play?” she asked
“Always” he replied
“I meant Golf,” Francesca stated
“So did I” he lied
“No you didn’t” she retorted “Thank God”
“Where is the wedding by the way?” he asked
“Clayton Manor” she replied
“I don’t suppose you know the room number?” he whispered
“No I don’t” she replied indignantly but her eyes intimated she would
let him know.
After he’d watched Francesca walk away towards the car park it started
to rain so he decided to abandon the search for a partner and go home and get ready
to gate crash a wedding.
He got to the Hotel just after 10 o’clock, when the party was in full
swing and slipped unnoticed up to the bar and mingled with the revellers as he looked
for his quarry.
He knew the Clayton Manor and he also knew that the only access to the
toilets from the function room was via the bar, so from his position he had a
clear view of the ladies as they tottered off to the loos.
Paul didn’t have to wait too long before the lovely Francesca emerged
from the ballroom looking every bit as gorgeous as she had that morning at the
golf club, just a slight unsteadiness and a flushing of her cheeks betrayed the
fact she had been drinking.
He let her carry on tottering to the ladies unmolested but intercepted
her on the return journey.
“Francesca Carrington-Webber!!” Paul said and made her jump
“Oh hello” she said trying to hide her pleasure at seeing him and
failing miserably
“What a surprise seeing you here”
“Yes it’s a small world” he responded “Are you enjoying yourself at
the party?”
“Yes it’s been a wonderful party darling” she said “But I’m very tired
now and I was thinking of turning in soon”
“Why don’t you join me for a drink first” he suggested
“Yes that would be lovely” she replied “just a quick one”
“Really? I think we can do better than that” he said quietly and she
blushed scarlet.
For the next 10 minutes they sat at a table in the crowded bar and
made banal small talk but as Francesca got towards the bottom of her glass she
asked
“Is your room nice?”
“I don’t have one” he replied “I’m not sure if I’m staying”
“I see”
“What about you?” he asked
“Yes I have a lovely room” she replied and wetting her finger she
wrote a number on the table.
“Well I will say goodnight then” she said and stood up “it was really
nice seeing you again”
“Likewise” he responded “Goodnight”
He watched her as she walked away in her accessorised lemon suit and
thought how much he loved her.
He remained in the bar for ten minutes and then paid a visit to the
gents before taking the back stairs up to Francesca’s floor and when he was sure
the coast was clear he knocked on the door to her room
“Room service” he called and the door opened
“Yes please” she replied and pulled him into the room by his belt and
the second the door closed behind him she pinned him to the door and kissed
him.
“You were pleased to see me then?” he said
“Yes” she replied unnecessarily “but it was agony, I so wanted to kiss
you and hold you”
“So did I” Paul said and kissed her before they walked deeper into the
room.
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