Downshire Diary – (42) Just Being Neighbourly

 

The Finchbottom Vale nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north and those who were lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns and at the eastern end of the Vale were the Dulcets which were a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet-on-Willow, Dulcet St Mary and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet Green which was where Scott Strong lived in a detached house with his wife of 25 years, Mary.

Although in truth Scott would have said that that was stretching a point, as it wasn’t so much living, and it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.

That was because Scott and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage in their lives they might just as well have been strangers.

In fact Scott didn’t really know why they had stayed together for twenty five years, he thought laziness was probably the likeliest reason.

They had no children, no pets, no nearest and dearest and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Scott’s opinion was the only special thing about it.

If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence in Scott’s opinion.

That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife he really loved the house.

But what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would put Scott’s love of the house into perspective.

 

It all began when Scott’s next door neighbours, the Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something big in the foreign office and he was offered a two year secondment to GCHQ, which he jumped at, but the Brown’s decided to rent the house out, while they were away, in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.

 

So it was on a warm day at the beginning of May when the new tenants moved in to the house next door, and it was a matter of great interest to Scott.

The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.

And in addition to the two old biddies they brought with them, a live in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 40 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.

Scott noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.

So it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see the new neighbours move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.

 

Although freelance architect Scott Strong worked from home at least 3 days a week he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working and this less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.

He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to his wife Mary any more than was necessary.

Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the live in frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.

The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.

When they announced their plans to return to England, because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook, they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.

As she had always wanted to travel to England she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it any other way.

 

From the very first moment he introduced himself over the garden fence Scott got on well with Pauline.

He liked her sense of humour, her laugh, and her easy company.

Until her arrival Scott hadn’t realised how much he had missed good conversation and feminine company.

In the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, he had become very fond of her, but not quite as fond as he was destined to do.

 

Pauline welcomed her neighbourly neighbours company, because despite the beauty of the Vale and quaintness of the village, she found herself feeling lonely.

She knew no one in the area, she had not had an opportunity to make friends locally and she was very much made to feel, by her employers, that she was only the “help”.  

Sharing a house with the two elderly spinsters did not make for a happy situation, they had no sense of humour and even if they had they certainly wouldn’t have shared a joke with her.

She missed stimulating conversation, well in truth she missed any kind of conversation, and so having regular visits from the affable Scott Strong and his quirky sense of humour were truly welcomed. 

 

But neither Scott nor Pauline realised the significance of their regular country kitchen coffee mornings and that a little light hearted conversation was only the first step to something very different indeed.

 

The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.

“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.

“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Scott”

“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate

 

“So what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine

“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Nettlefield for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied

She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.

“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Scott said

“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”

It was the first time he had seen Pauline quite so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.

The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned and Pauline had to keep herself quiet and respectful, and had to conduct herself with decorum at all times and not express a hint of humour and God forbid she should show any hint of femininity.

However as the sisters were away she was able to let her hair down which was why on that summer’s afternoon she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed or even hinted at and she was having her own private party until by late afternoon the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”

But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.

 

His immediate thought was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was more than 10 years his junior and very much the worse for drink.

So he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.

Scott knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and she was a very good kisser and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember, he was unwilling to stop proceedings

“Stop now” he was screaming inside his head

“While you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”

But he didn’t listen to his conscience.

Thankfully at that precise moment she disengaged her mouth from his and grinned at him before saying

“Great snog”

Then the combination of too much wine and too much sun played a part in proceeding once again and she passed out.

 

The combination of too much wine and too much sun played a part in proceeding once again and she passed out.

Scott quickly reached out and prevented her falling to the floor and then scooped her up and carried her inside out of the hot sun.

Once inside he laid her down on the sofa and a moment or so later she came round.

“I’m sorry” she said

“What for?” he asked

“For snogging you” she replied and covered her face with her hands.

“I’m so embarrassed”

“Did you hear me complain?” he asked as he knelt on the floor beside her.

“No” she replied

“Well then”

“So you’re not horrified?” she asked and peeped through the gaps in her fingers

“Of course not” he replied “The opposite is true”

“What do you mean?” she asked but still had her face covered.

“I was disappointed when you stopped” he said “I thought you were horrified at what you had done”

“No never” she exclaimed and from her prone position she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed again.

However it wasn’t just drunken snogging because after they had another glass of wine the lay on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs in the dining room and proclaimed their love for each other on that balmy June afternoon.

Although no impropriety occurred, it was extraordinary behaviour anyway for someone in a Christian household, and as she was a Christian herself it would have been twice as bad especially with a married man.

 

Pauline was asleep on the sofa when he went home he wanted to be there in time to have a conversation over dinner with his darling wife.

As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.

So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and wished he was at the Brackhampton-Finch’s in Pauline’s arms, but he had resolved not to do that until after he had the dreaded conversation with Mary.

 

It was 11.45 when Mary returned and he was standing in the hall to greet her.

They sat up until the small hours discussing the future and in the end it was much more amicable than he had expected because she too had met someone that she wanted to know better.

They agreed that they should stay in the house until it was sold and then they could go their separate ways.

 

It was a cooler calmer day than the one that preceded it and Pauline was much calmer and cooler herself.

That hot sensual June afternoon when too much wine eroded her inhibitions was gone and as she had not seen Scott since she assumed he had too.

Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour the day before because Scott had been too gentlemanly to take advantage of her and Scott felt no guilt for what he did when neither of them where influence by sultry weather or cheap wine.

She was at the kitchen sink when he reached the open back door and he stepped quietly in and crept up behind her where he put his hands on her waist and kissed he neck.

She gasped in surprise when she felt his hands on her and sighed as his lips touched her skin.

“I didn’t think you were coming back” she murmured

“I couldn’t come back until I had spoken to Mary” he explained

“And?” she asked and held her breath to await his response.

“And we’re getting a divorce” he replied and she spun round and kissed him

 

It was a shame that the house would have to be sold but he couldn’t afford to buy Marys half so he had to give up the house that he loved so much in order to get the woman he loved even more.

 

With his share of the house sale Scott bought a modest cottage in Dulcet-on-Brooke and when her two years were up at the Brackhampton-Finch’s they lived in the cottage together.

A situation he was very pleased with which only came about as a result of him just being neighbourly.