The village of
Highfinch sits just on the edge of the Pepperstock Hills and the Lily Green
Hollows Golf Club separates the village from the Hamlet of Lily Green, and the
combination of those two and Kingfisherbridge made up the parish of St Martins.
Among the residents of
Highfinch was Lorraine Weaving, a beautiful 29 year old with hazel eyes, 5 foot
7 inches tall, athletically built and completely bald.
She was completely
devoid of any hair at all, no eyebrows, body hair and as everyone was always
asking her, nothing down there as well.
And the answer to the
other question she was always being asked, was that she fell out of a tree when
she was six.
Lorraine was
originally born in Childean, but in her 29 years she had lived all over the
Finchbottom Vale which nestles comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean
Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who
are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
Throughout its history
the Finchbottom Vale was largely dependent on agriculture and so it remained
into the 21st century but many and varied occupations and endeavour’s thrived
alongside the traditional rural livelihood’s but it was in agriculture that the
Weaving family had earned their livings for centuries but Lorraine, who loved
her family and the Vale in equal measure, decided pretty early on in her life
that agriculture was not for her.
She could have chosen
almost any Town or Village in the Vale to start her change of career but she
chose Highfinch, partly because she had a great aunt living in the village who
offered her a roof over her head but mainly because she held a particular
affinity for the village because it was in Hawks Wood where she parted company
with her hair.
When Lorraine Weaving
took over as practice manager of the Highfinch Surgery she quickly made new
friends as she made her mark in her quiet and unassuming way and Lorraine was
well liked by staff and patients alike and she firmly believed she had found
her niche.
So she had a nice
little house in the village a job that she loved and wonderful friends and she
was as content as she had ever been, but all of that changed on the 1st of July
when she met Captain Peter Loosemore.
He was at the surgery
with one of his regiment, Sgt Paul Russell, who had been severely wounded by an
IED in Afghanistan, and he was a double amputee, his left leg had gone below
the knee and his right just above it.
He was there for a
physio appointment and the Captain was there for moral support.
But the meeting left
the Captain and the Practice Manager completely smitten.
There second meeting
was two days later at the Annual Finchbottom Vale Health Care Summer Ball at
the Clayton Manor Hotel in the village of Clayton where they fell deeper.
But straight after the
Ball he had to return to Barracks as the Regiment was deploying to Afghanistan.
They didn’t have their
first date until after his short but bloody tour.
The first of many dates for Lorraine and Peter was in Purplemere but
it wasn’t until after a carefully planned supper at her house in Highfinch that
they made love for the first time
And as they lay
panting in the afterglow Lorraine said breathlessly.
“Oh Peter, I love you”
And in response he
kissed her hot panting mouth and replied.
“I love you too”
And in the afterglow
Peter made and Lorraine accepted his proposal of marriage.
The wedding date was
set for May 21st and would take place in St Martin’s church in Highfinch, and
the ceremony would be performed by Jenna Lawton.
Her parents were
ecstatic when Lorraine broke the news to them and when she introduced Peter to
them they fell in love with him as well.
Lorraine Weaving,
slender a tall girl, athletically built with a lovely shape and stunning legs
and her mother was just an older version of her daughter apart from the bald
head.
Lorraine was thirty
years old but looked much younger and her mum was beginning to think the day
would never come when she could hand down to her daughter her own wedding
dress.
Lorraine had been a
happy singleton, and content to be so until the day when she walked into the
waiting room of the Highfinch Surgery and met Captain Peter Loosemore.
Her mum handed
Lorraine the dress box and she said
“You are the spit of
me when I got married, I’d love you to wear this”
“What is it?” Lorraine
asked
“Open it and see” she
replied
Lorraine opened the
box and her eyes widened as she unfolded, first the tissue and then the garment
“It’s beautiful” she
said with tears welling up in her eyes
“Absolutely beautiful”
When she put it on it
was a perfect fit and it was her mums turn to cry as her beautiful daughter
wore her mother’s beautiful wedding dress.
On a sunny May
afternoon beautiful Practice Manager Lorraine Weaving married Captain Peter Loosemore
of the Downshire Light Infantry at St Martin’s church in the village of
Highfinch.
She looked even more
stunning than usual with her hairless head surmounted by yellow flowers and her
veil and wearing her mother’s wedding dress.
In line with tradition
her skin flushed pink on her big day.
Lorraine was thirty
years old but looked much younger and her mother was so happy on her daughter’s
wedding day that she cried all through the ceremony.
Outside the church
when the bride and groom emerged there was a traditional military honour guard
and when she saw Sgt Russell standing to attention with his comrades, she
smiled because it was Paul who inadvertently introduced them.
But the amount of
tears shed on the day of her daughter’s wedding were surpassed tenfold on the day
Lorraine told her mother she was pregnant.
It was just under a
year after the wedding and they were on the verge of their first anniversary
and over the following months the slender five foot seven athletically built
girl grew and grew.
From behind she didn’t
look very different her bum was small and round and she still looked slim but
at the front she was huge, her belly was round and full and her usually small
breasts had swollen to the size of melons.
In October Peter had
been away on an exercise in Norway and when he returned in November he found
Lorraine in a very strange mood and try as he might he couldn’t get to the
bottom of it, until it was time for bed.
Peter had finished in
the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed and watched his beautiful wife
undressing.
First she unhooked the
straps of her dungarees and let them fall to the floor then she pulled her
jumper off over her head and then she noticed him watching her and she stopped
and walked into the bathroom wearing just a t-shirt and maternity pants.
“How can you bare to
look at me?” she asked and closed the bathroom door.
He tried talking to
her through the bathroom door but he got no response and he could hear her crying.
When she came back out
ten minutes later she was wearing a large shapeless nighty and she was drying
her eyes.
“What’s the matter
hon?” he asked her and took her hand “Please tell me”
“I’m ugly” she said
“That’s what the matter is”
“No, you’re not,
you’re beautiful Lorraine” he corrected her
“I’m a great fat lump”
she said and started crying
Peter immediately put
his arms around her to comfort her
“Darling you’re gorgeous”
he said
“But I’m not the
slender nymph you fell in love with” she sobbed
“I’m a blimp”
“I think you’re
lovely” Peter said “I think you’re sexy”
“I used to be lovely”
she sobbed “I used to be sexy”
“You still are” he
assured her
“I’m not” she insisted
He took her hand and
kissed it and said
“I really love you
Lorraine, you are my life and my love”
Then he kissed her
lips, still salty with tears.
It was a long
passionate kiss, full of love requited and Peter only broke away to swiftly
remove her shapeless nightie in a prelude to making love to her.
It was not the last
occasion on which he made love to her during that pregnancy or subsequent
pregnancies.
Peter loved Lorraine
body and soul, whether that body was skinny or in the bloom of pregnancy, for the
rest of his life.
Lorraine’s feelings
for him were reciprocated with interest and she remained his and his alone
until his death.
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