Downshire is a
relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in,
a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of
Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the
Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the
beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the
Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light
infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in
the north but our story begins further south at the most southerly fringe of
the Pepperstock Hills National Park.
The Park stretched
from the bare, and often barren crags of Oxley Ridge in the North to the dense
wooded southern slopes on the fringe of the Finchbottom Vale and from Quarry
Hill, and the Pits in the West to Pepperstock Bay in the East.
It is an area of stark
contrasts and attracted a variety of visitors.
The quarry hill side
of the park to the west, as the name suggests, was heavily Quarried over
several hundred years, though more extensively during the industrial
revolution, the Quarries had been un-worked for over fifty years and nature had
reclaimed them and former pits had become lakes and were very popular with
anglers and the sparse shrubbery and woodland made it popular spot with
courting couples whereas the northern crags and fells were popular with
climbers and more hardy folk.
To the south and east
was an extensive tract of magnificent mixed forestry and was rivalled only by
the ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forest.
Cheryl Vermeulen lived
in the village of Springwater in the home she had once shared with her ex-husband
Bijs and at the age of 29 she was facing her first Christmas on her own for 8
years and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
She wasn’t lonely per
se, she had friends aplenty, and she even had a romantic interest or at least
she had someone she was interested in romantically she just needed to close the
deal, which was proving to be more difficult than she had hoped.
Cheryl woke early in
the depths of winters to find it was snowing lightly but it was 4am, so she
went to the bathroom and then went back to bed.
She awoke for the
second time at six o’clock but after looking at the clock she went back to
sleep again.
The next time she woke
to the sound of machinery, a repetitive whining sound, and when she realized it
was not part of her dream, she jumped from her bed and rushed to the window.
Across the cul-de-sac
and through the naked black branches of the trees, she could see one of her
neighbour's driveways and his son's car stuck in the snow.
Then she glanced to
the bedside table and the clock radio which screamed in her face its “eight
o'clock!!!”
“You’re kidding me”
she snapped “Where did the time go?”
Well, what happened
was she kept going back to sleep and at some point she had even switched the
alarm off and then made the fatal error of wanting to stay cosy for a few more
minutes, but those few more minutes turned into an hour.
As a result she was in
a panic, so she threw on anything that would keep her warm and ran wild-eyed
down the stairs.
Her first stop was to
the coat cupboard where she searched out her wellington boot's, then she turned
them upside down and banged them against each other to wake up any sleeping
insects and encourage them to vacate the premises, as their cosy abode was about
to be invaded by wool clad size three feet.
Once she had her boots
on, her coat was next followed by a hat and scarf and finally she put on her
thickest gloves.
It took her several
attempts to open the door with her thick gloves on and she had to take one off
to open the garage door and it seemed that everything was conspiring to
frustrate her just when she was in such a hurry.
She wriggled her way
to the back of the garage in search of the snow shovel, she knew they had one,
her ex-husband Bijs had bought one when they first moved to the village but
they had never used it, he drove a 4x4 and he drove her to work when there was
snow on the ground, and it never lay for long anyway so there was never any
need for it.
Once she had the
shovel she wriggled back to the door again this time with the shovel above her
head.
Shovel in hand she
stood on the threshold and looked down the drive at the task ahead.
The small granular
flakes were falling fast, and the wind was blowing it in drifts across her
drive.
After a few moments
she looked beyond her drive and wondered why she was the only one outside when
the men of the neighbourhood were normally out flexing their muscles but then
she remembered, it was still only 8.15 on Sunday morning, and they were not
expected at the church by 9:30 for a preservice choir practise ahead of a full
program of church events on the third Sunday of advent.
As she looked from the
garage door out to the street, along the 40 foot length drive covered by a foot
of virgin snow, Cheryl sighed and asked herself
“Where on earth do I begin?”
In the end she went
straight to the middle and began to shovel a narrow path to the street and she
initially moved along at a fairly steady pace, but when she had reached the
road she stopped and looked at her watch and felt deflated.
She realised she had a
choice to make she could either shovel like a mad woman and go to church unkempt
and un-showered and dressed like a bag lady or she could make a phone call.
Cheryl went back to
the house and picked up her phone and dialled a number
“Hello?” a voice said
“Hello Kay, sorry for calling so early, is Owen there? I can’t get the car out”
Cheryl said “I’m never going to make it to church on time”
Owen and Kay were in the choir as well and also lived in Springwater and before
she could continue Kay interrupted her and said
“Don't worry Cheryl
we’ll pick you up on the way”
“Oh bless you Kay” she
said “I’ll be ready”
Owen and Kay came along right on cue and Cheryl made her way through the snow
to the car.
It was still snowing
as they approached St Bartholomew’s Church when Owen said
“I hope the rest of
the choir can make it”
“I just hope there
will be someone there to listen” Kay added
“Even if it’s just the
three of us and no congregation we can still sing for God” Cheryl said
“Yes we can” they agreed
Only three choir
members failed to make the rehearsal but they all arrived in time for the
performances and despite the weather there were plenty of congregants there to
listen.
Once they finished the
rehearsal Cheryl used the time before the first service to enjoy a cup of
coffee at the church Café, Bart’s, where she spent 20 minutes laughing and
chatting with fellow choristers, and among them was Dave Torrison, who was on
her romantic radar.
The church was full by
10.30 and the choir was well warmed up for their rendition of “Carol of the
Bells” and Cheryl was in particularly good voice and nailed all of solos.
The second service was
equally well received judging by the emotion filled faces of those who had just
been blessed by the music.
After the service was complete, they shared the peace and the congregation had
dispersed, some of the choristers went for a late lunch.
One of them was Dave
Torrison and after Owen and Kay related the tale about her not being able to
get her car out of the garage Dave said
“Well I don’t mind
coming round to help”
“Really?” she asked
“Absolutely” Dave said
“Well in that case
I’ll make us dinner” Cheryl said
“Great” he said “But
I’ll need to go home first and change”
Owen and Kay dropped
her off in front of her house.
“Have fun” Kay said
and winked
As she walked up the
little path she’d cleared earlier that morning it already had two inches of
fresh snow on it and she looked across at her neighbour’s drives in the failing
light and could see that all the men had been out and cleared their driveways
and were safely tucked up warm inside.
Cheryl’s first act was
to rush inside and change into something that would make the best of what she
had and then when she was perfumed and made up she put on her snow shovelling
gear on top of her outfit and waited for him.
When he arrived, Dave
thought she looked rather cute in her wellies, puffer jacket, woolly hat, scarf
and gloves, but as the snow shovel stood two foot taller than she did, he suggested
she leave the drive to him.
Cheryl didn’t argue
because it meant she could make a start on dinner and perfect her appearance.
“I hope this is ok”
she said as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.
She needn’t have
worried, after all he thought she was cute in a puffer jacket and wellies he
would be putty in her hands when he saw her in a figure hugging wool dress.
Suffice is to say she
did make an impression and they both had a great Christmas.
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