Uncanny Love Tales – (006) Hidden in Tweed

Peter Nesbitt was staying in Braithwaite at the Coledale Inn for a few days, it was his brother Johnnies idea, a short break in the Lake District, a change of pace and some R&R, unfortunately Johnnie’s idea of rest and relaxation was the consumption of copious quantities of Jennings Ale.

But Peter, now in his early thirties, was looking for something more than drinking games and hangovers so on Monday morning, bright and early he grabbed his backpack and set off for a walk on the hill in the early sunshine.

He left the pub and set off down the lane towards the stile which would set him on the path to the hill and as he got halfway along it he happened to notice another walker heading for the same stile from the opposite direction.

She wore stout walking shoes, old fashioned brogues, with long argyle socks, a grey tweed skirt and a drab shapeless sweater and her hair was tied in a bun beneath a tweed cap that matched the skirt and she looked about forty.

If it hadn’t been for the coloured backpack, he would have thought he’d stumbled through a portal into the 1930s.

“After you” he gestured

“Thank you” she said accompanied by a nervous smile in a voice much younger that her appearance.

Once she was over the stile she set off at an impressive pace and was very sure footed as she strode off ahead of him, he had to admit that although her footwear was old fashioned it was considerably more appropriate for the conditions than what Peter was wearing.

It wasn’t the warmest of days, and he’d elected for shorts and a T-shirt and in his little backpack he only had a waterproof jacket a drink and a sandwich.

 

The weather in the Lake District was notoriously unpredictable, despite the bright start to the day, so it wasn’t really a surprise that by mid-morning the blue sky had been consumed by grey.

Peter was on top of the hill looking out across the valley and the lake, he had no idea if it was Bassenthwaite Water or Derwent as he’d lost his bearings a bit, after all he wasn’t really familiar enough with Cumbria to find his way around without a map which of course he didn’t have in his pack either.

He sat down and opened his pack, ate his sandwich and drank his drink but when he looked at the distant sky he didn’t need a map or anything else to tell him it was coming his way so he decided to make his way off the hill ahead of it as quickly as possible.

He hadn’t even reached halfway before the low cloud settled a thick mist all around him.

Peter had on his light jacket, which was getting wet in the mist, he also had good trainers on, but on the damp stone they were not really fit for purpose and he was slipping with every other step.

The fog had come down very quickly and was extremely thick in places.

“You should just sit it out” a soft voice said

“I’m sorry?” He said turning around and seeing the frumpy woman sitting on a large flat rock.

“You should just sit it out” she said again

“Is that wise?” Peter asked

“Yes, this band of cloud is due to blow through in a couple of hours” she said confidently

“Is it? He asked

“Didn’t you check the weather forecast before you set off this morning?” she asked

“No” he admitted and sat down next to her “I’m Peter by the way, Peter Nesbitt” and offered his hand

“Sarah Hallam” she responded

 

Sarah Hallam was 28 years old, single and happy to be so, all things considered, she had studied law at university but after three years she decided it wasn’t the career for her, so she followed a different path and had been a proof reader for a legal publisher for the last six years, it suited her well as she could work from home and so didn’t have to interact with people.

It meant that she spent a lot of time on her own, which she didn’t mind as she was happy in her own company, however although she lived in seclusion in the country she still liked to get away to  somewhere different whenever she could, normally to some place beautiful and the Lake District was certainly that.

 

When they met at the stile, Peter had ridiculed Sarah’s mode of dress, but as they sat on a large flat rock in the fog, he had to admit that she was more appropriately dressed than he was, at which point he shivered.

“Do you have anything useful in your pack?” Sarah asked

“It’s empty now I’m afraid” Peter replied

“You did come well prepared” She said sarcastically

Luckily for Peter, Sarah’s backpack was filled with a wealth of useful stuff, a thermos full of coffee, Sandwiches, Kendal mint cake and a blanket all of which she generously shared with him while they spoke candidly about their past.

Peter was interested to hear about Sarah’s profession as he and his brother Johnnie were also in publishing as they jointly ran a printing company, specializing in high end books.

 “I don’t mean to pry Sarah” he began “I understand that under our present condition they are indeed practical, but why are you dressed like a….”

“Frump” she suggested

“Well I wouldn’t have used that word exactly, but Yes” he agreed “I’m sorry”

“Its fine” Sarah said “it’s quite simple really”

Peter listened intently

“When I was at University, in my first year, I had my heart broken, badly” She confessed

“And again, in the third year, much worse and nearly cost me my degree”

“I’m so sorry” Peter said sympathetically “But why the tweeds?”

“Well after the second time I resolved to have no more truck with love” She said without emotion “or relationships”

“I am single and glad to be so” she added and paused for a moment and Peter spoke

“So that’s why you dress to make yourself look fifteen years older than you are?” Sarah nodded   

“I have found that if you are a shapeless old frump, men tend to leave well alone”

“What a waste” he thought to himself

“And what about you?” She asked

“Well I’ve also had my heart broken” he confessed “just the once for me though”

“Once would’ve been enough for me” Sarah mumbled

“I’ve not given up hope completely” Peter continued “But I’ve not met the “one” yet”

She nodded her understanding

“I’ve not found my soul mate yet” was what he meant

“In truth I use work much the same way as you use Tweed” He said

“My brother Johnnie says I work too hard and should get out and have some fun”

“It’s nice that he cares about you” Sarah said

“His idea of fun differs greatly from mine” he said and they both laughed

 

By about three in the afternoon a light breeze got up and started stirring the mist.

“Right on time” Sarah said though she was a little disappointed, as she was rather enjoying herself, and that took her by surprise

“Perhaps we should wait for another half an hour or so” Peter suggested also in no hurry to leave.

“Good idea” Sarah said

 

By 4.15 they couldn’t really delay it any longer as watery sunshine was beginning to penetrate the mist, so Peter began handing the remnants of their impromptu picnic to Sarah which she packed neatly away.

“Thank you” Peter said

“For what?” Sarah asked

“Sharing your lunch and your blanket” he said “and for your company”

“Oh, there’s no need to thank me” she responded and gave him a smile

“It would have been a very dull afternoon had you not happened along”

Peter thought he detected a slight blush on her cheek.

“She’s a very attractive and confident girl beneath the frumpy exterior” he thought

 

It was as they walked down the hill in the weak sunshine that he decided that he would endeavour to get her to re-join the world and if not embrace the waves then at least dip her toe in the water.

They were just approaching the stile they had crossed earlier in the day when he said

“I was wondering, as you were so generous to me today you might allow me to repay the favour”

“There’s no need” Sarah relied cursing herself for her cowardice

“It’s the least I can do”

“There really is no need”

“Just dinner at the Pheasant in Keswick” Peter persisted

“Ok” she relented and to herself added “Good decision”

“But tomorrow would be better for me” she said as Peter helped her over the stile

“Great tomorrow it is” he said smiling “I will look forward to it”

 

Sarah had taken a bold step by agreeing to the dinner, it took her by surprise how much she wanted to, and she had opened herself up to disappointment again, but having said yes, she didn’t want to hold back now.

If she was going to make the most of it, she had to make the most of herself and as she hadn’t packed anything remotely suitable for dinner she had been in Kendall all day shopping for girl clothes, that was why she said she couldn’t make dinner the evening before.

 

Peter spent his day fending off questions from his brother Johnnie, about where he was going and who he was meeting, he loved his brother but his biggest fear was that Johnnie would pitch up at the pub and unintentionally spoil things before they got started.

So, he told him he was taking her to a restaurant in Ambleside an hour later than he was actually meeting Sarah in Keswick.

 

Sarah was second guessing herself and as she stood in front of the mirror wearing a little black dress, her long brunette hair was down, and her face was subtly made up.

It had been a while since she had given herself the treatment and the face, she was wearing was her third attempt.

The first one left her looking like a mortician’s subject and the second resembled a clown, but she was running out of time so the third one would have to do.

Why on earth did she agree to do this, what was she thinking?

“Because you wanted to” she said out loud to the mirror “now suck it up and go and knock him dead”

 

Peter was sat in the bar a full half an hour before he was supposed to meet Sarah and he was insanely nervous; he hadn’t felt like that since he was 15 when he was waiting outside the multiplex for Cindy Brownlow.

However, as he sat there, he was thinking it was a mistake to arrive so early as his stomach was doing somersaults.

When Peter turned around and saw this brunette in the little black dress coming towards him, he couldn’t stop himself from saying   

“Wow”

Sarah smiled

“Will I Do?”

“Comme ci Comme ça” He said making a gesture with his hand 

“Charming” she said

“I was expecting someone in tweeds” Peter pointed out and she laughed

“I decided to make an effort” Sarah said as she sat down

“I thought this might be more appropriate”

The evening passed by so quickly, it was like an information exchange, and they were so absorbed in each company that they completely lost track of time, to such an extent that they had to be asked to leave.

“Oh, dear we seem to have overstayed our welcome and there is so much more to say” Sarah said

“Then we should perhaps consider this an adjournment and pick this up again tomorrow”

She nodded her ascent with a broad smile on her face and he was rather pleased with himself for his legal reference almost as much as the securing of another date.

They agreed to meet again the next morning by the stile where they had first met and she was transformed, the frump he’d met on the hill the day before was gone forever.

No wonder Peter hadn’t been able to find his soul mate for all those years of searching, she was hiding in plain sight.

Sarah Hallam, the woman who was a stranger only two days before, would be at his side every day thereafter.

The Art of Loneliness

(Part One)

Rose Ganley was a sister on the paediatric ward at the Churchill hospital, she was five foot tall and quite trim, but stood an inch or so taller in her stout shoes and her uniform fitted her perfectly, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.
She was 45 years old but looked older, her once black hair was now streaked with grey like Lily Munster.
Rose was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t due to laughter lines.
Life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face, each line and furrow a sad event or a disappointment, her face was like her résumé.
Sister Ganley always chatted cheerily and a smile was never far from her lips, but although she was always smiling there was pain behind the eyes.

Rose was lonely and she went home every night to an empty house, save for her cat.
No husband, boyfriend or significant other and no living parents and no children.
She had friends of course but you can’t live in the pockets of friends.
And living your life vicariously was not the healthiest option in the long run.
But she wasn’t an unhappy person she was someone who makes the most of things
Even though she spent more time on her own than she deserved to.
She hadn’t always been alone, she’d had a husband once, but he left her a week before her fortieth birthday and she’d been alone ever since, and a little lonely but she would never have admitted that.
Rose was devastated at the time and it had left her unable to trust for the years following it.
But that mistrust merely isolated her from life.
And she settled for evenings in front of the TV with a glass of wine and a Rom Com, or a good book.
And she loved her garden.

Life for her would probably have continued in the same vein indefinitely had it not been for a number of events, which taken on their own merits wouldn’t have had the effect they did but together and in short succession, they altered her perspective fundamentally.
The first event was the appointment of a new hospital management team who like all new brooms wanted to sweep clean, but it wasn’t the first new brooms she’d had to deal with and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
The second one was something that should really have been a happy event.
Her Senior Staff Nurse Jenny Humphreys got married.
Rose really liked Jenny and she was truly happy that she had found someone, but Jenny’s obvious happiness on the big day merely underlined her own loneliness.
The third was more painful to bear, Emily Andrews died.
Emily was a frequent visitor to the ward and long-time sufferer from Leukaemia.
The first time she was admitted coincided to the day when Rose started on the ward.
They had built up a great rapport over the years and for her to pass at the age of 16 hit everyone who knew her.
But that in itself did not break her, death was as much a part of nursing as living.
No the straw that broke the camels back so to speak was the death of her cat.
It wasn’t a shock as Cleo was old, and nor was it a surprise she had been ill for some time, it was the timing.
Just before Christmas and coming on top of everything else.

Ever since she had separated from her husband Rose had volunteered to work at Christmas, as she lived alone and had no family she always worked extra shifts to cover for staff who did have family.
It was quiet on paediatrics as they always tried to discharge as many children as possible but for those who couldn’t go home they relaxed the visiting hours so that families could share the day.
This gave her plenty of time to think.
From the first moment Rose had taken the Sisters position on paediatrics she had felt distanced from proper nursing.
She seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time in meetings and she always seemed to be working at arm’s length from the very people for whom she had become a nurse in the first place.
She reran recent events through her head and also recalled those days when she was a student nurse when life was fun and the future was something to look forward to.
Rose had always loved painting and when she was younger she would often go off to the country with her watercolours and her easel and sit and paint but when she met her husband he belittled her efforts, undermined her confidence.
She was suddenly angry with herself for letting him do that, but now she could take it up again and revive her passion.

By the end of her shift on Christmas day Rose had decided that things needed to change.
So over the days following her epiphany she tried to think of a way to achieve the change she sought.
It was New Year’s Eve, another shift she always volunteered for, when it all fell into place.
She opened up the planner on her computer and she totted up all her lieu days and unclaimed annual leave, and was surprised at just how much she had.
In fact she was so surprised she checked it again, twice.

So she had the holiday allowance and then she made a plan, she filled out her online leave form and booked off the whole month of June.
It would be perfect, June was her favourite month and as the schools wouldn’t have broken up by that time she would have the whole holiday at off peak rates, perfect.

(Part Two)

When June came around Rose loaded her luggage and her painting equipment into her little car, returning briefly to lock the house, before getting into the car and setting off right on time.
Not that she was on the clock, she had no particular place to get to and no set time to get there.
Rose was feeling very excited as she set off on that Monday morning in June.
She didn’t want to book her accommodation in advance as she didn’t want to be too tied to dates and locations.
So she only had the very loosest of itineraries, she had lots of places on her list of possible bases and local attractions she might like to see.
Although in truth she chose most of the places she wanted to see and then looked for places she might stay in proximity to the place of interest.
But she didn’t want to get too hung up on where and when.
If she didn’t get to see places this time around it didn’t matter as this was not the last holiday she was going to take.
Rose was determined to avoid the motorways so at the end of the first day she hadn’t got as far as she thought she would and hadn’t even got anywhere near even the most southerly place on her itinerary.
So she decided to stop at the first place she liked the sound of, which is how she came to take the road to the village of Deighton under Cleverley.
She drove through the quaint village with its neat cottages and kept her eyes peeled for a B&B and it wasn’t long before she spied the Coachman’s Arms Hotel.
“That will do nicely” she said to herself

The next morning she settled her bill at the Hotel, said goodbye and loaded her bag into the boot of the car and set off on day two of her sojourn.
Rose liked Deighton, it was quaint, she had toyed with the idea of staying on for a day or two but in the end decided she would push on, but made a mental note to stop there again, on the way back maybe.
When she left the Hotel she didn’t drive out the way she had driven in the night before and headed in the opposite direction, wondering where that might lead.
She passed the General Store and a small parade of shops, another Pub and a garage, then a row of cottages and the Church before she crossed the stone bridge over the river and out into the country.
It was pretty countryside bathed in the June sunshine, but she only managed another mile or so before her little car started making unfamiliar noises,
“That’s not good” she said just before there was a loud clunk and she lost power then the car slowed down to a stop.
“That’s definitely not good”
She tried to restart the engine but to no avail.
“Now what?” she said to herself
She didn’t have any kind of breakdown cover, after all she never went anywhere.
It was, she had to admit, an oversight on her part not to have joined the AA or RAC if only in the short term as she was on a month long touring holiday.
“Well at least I’m not far from civilization” she thought to herself.
Rose was just getting out of the car to walk back to Deighton when another car came along from the other direction.
The car slowed down as it approached her and a balding head appeared through the driver’s window.
“Do you need any help?” the owner of the head asked
“I’ve broken down I’m afraid” she replied
“Nick Mault’s your man” he said
“Is that you by any chance?” Rose asked
“Good heavens no” he replied and laughed jovially as he got out of the car.
“I’m Reverend Richard Turner”
He was a tall gaunt looking man who nonetheless wore a warm smile and had laughing eyes.
“Oh I’m sorry” she said and shook the offered hand “Pleased to meet you Vicar, I’m Rose Ganly”
“Well Rose I’ll drive you back to the village if you like” the Vicar said
“I would be grateful” she replied
She retrieved her bags from her car and transferred them to the back of the Vicars.
As he drove away she asked
“So who’s Nick Mault?”
“Oh yes Nick” he said “he owns the garage in Deighton, he’s a first class mechanic shall I drop you there?”
“The Hotel first I think” she replied “judging by the noises my car was making I won’t be going anywhere today”
“Well there are plenty of beauteous things to paint in and around Deighton” he said as he pulled up in front of the Coachman’s
Rose looked at him curiously and he answered her curiosity
“I noticed your easel”
“Oh I see” she said “well this should be amusing”
“How so?” the vicar asked
“I only checked out about half an hour ago, they’ll think I’m mad” she said
“I’m sure they won’t” he reassured her “I’ll wait here while you check in and then I’ll run you up to Mault’s”
“That’s very kind but there’s no need” she said
“Nonsense” he replied “you might need a translator”

(Part Three)

Thankfully the receptionist didn’t think she was mad at all when she checked back in and just said
“That’s fate, that is”
Rose didn’t dwell on the subject but was anxious not to keep the vicar waiting.
She quickly went up to the room and deposited her bags and then returned to the vicar’s car.
Once she was in he said
“What’s the verdict?”
“That’s fate, that is” she replied mimicking the receptionist’s country accent.
The vicar was still chuckling as he pulled up outside the garage.
They both got out of the car and a small rotund man approached them
“Morning Vicar” he called “is the old girl playing up”
The Vicar turned to Rose and whispered
“He’s referring to my car”
As she looked at the oil stained country bumpkin she understood why the Vicar was so amused that she thought he was Nick.
She also understood why he mentioned being her translator, Mr. Mault had a very thick accent and she only got one word in three.
The upshot was that if she left her keys with him and they would recover her car and take it from there.

Rose thanked the Vicar for his assistance with Mr. Mault
“I barely understood a word of that” she confessed
“It was the least I could do for a fellow foreigner” he said
“A foreigner?” she said
“Someone not from the village” he explained
“Are you not local then?” she asked
“I’ve only lived here for ten years” the Vicar said
“And you’re still a foreigner?” Rose said
When they got back to the Coachman’s she offered to buy him a coffee as a thank you.
“Alas I have a Parish Council Meeting this morning but come for tea at the Vicarage this afternoon”
“Are you sure?” Rose asked “I’ve taken up so much of your time already”
“My wife Caroline would never forgive me if I didn’t invite you”

Caroline Turner was extremely welcoming and she reiterated that she would not have forgiven Richard if he had let me leave the village without visiting the vicarage and Rose found she was every bit as friendly as her husband.
“I never like to miss an opportunity to speak with fellow foreigners and get news from the outside world” she said “Don’t get me wrong we love living here. It’s a beautiful corner of the world and the people are lovely but it’s nice once in a while to hear real news”
“You make it sound like we’re in the colonies” Richard said and poured the tea.
“Richard tells me you paint” Caroline said
“Yes” Rose replied “But I’ve only recently come back to it”
“Oh?” she said inquisitively
In response to Caroline’s unasked question Rose went on to explain the circumstances of her epiphany, the events that led up to it and the plans she had made after it and how she ended up in Deighton under Cleverley
“That’s fate, that is” she replied mimicking the receptionist’s country accent again.
“Well there are plenty of picturesque scenes in Deighton” she said
“The church is very pretty” Rose said
“Yes it is” The Vicar agreed
“It’s even better from the meadow across the river” Caroline added
“Perhaps I’ll paint it from over there then” Rose said
“Unfortunately its private property” Richard said
“And the owner Daniel Scott is a bit of an old curmudgeon”
“What a shame, do you think it’s worth asking him for permission?” Rose said “Appeal to his better nature”
“I’m not sure he’s got one” Caroline said then rebuked herself
“No that was unchristian he’s got one, he just keeps it hidden”
“He’s not really a people person” said the Vicar
“Though he wasn’t always like that, his wife Mary died three years ago”
“She was the sun and the moon in his sky” Caroline said
“So when her light was extinguished his world went dark”
“Her light still shines just not in this world” Rose said
“Quite so” agreed the vicar
The Vicar paused a moment
“His problem is that he hasn’t forgiven the world for carrying on after her death” he said “or God for taking her”
“Was he very different before her death?” She asked
“Oh yes we were all friends back then” Caroline replied
“We miss them”
“Them?” Rose asked
“I think the Daniel we knew died soon after her” Richard said
“We haven’t quite given up on him but we’re close. There is a limit to the number of olive branches you can have thrown back in your face.
Even a Vicar can’t turn the other cheek indefinitely”
“Well I think I’ll give it a try anyway” Rose said
“He’ll treat you as a hostile” He said
“Look Vicar I’m a sister on a Children’s ward, which is often like bedlam so I can handle one old curmudgeon”

(Part Four)

The next day was Wednesday so Rose called in at Mault’s garage to get an update on her car she wasn’t able to find an English to Bumpkin phrase book so she had to wing it.
When she left 10 minutes later she had a definitive date when it would be ready, “sometime soon”
Rose then continued on through the village heading for Daniel Scott’s farmhouse.
When she was walking down the lane to Old Farm she could see the house and as she approached she could hear muttering and cursing in the vicinity but wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly where is was emanating from.
“Hello!” she called “Mr Scott!”
“Go away” a curmudgeonly voice replied
“Could I speak to you for a moment” she said
“I’m not buying anything” he said
“Good because I’m not selling anything” she responded
“What do you want then?” he barked and she was able to hone in on his location.
“I refuse to talk to a bush” she said curtly
There were more rustlings and then he appeared and she was surprised to see that the old curmudgeon was actually not that old, but he was certainly a curmudgeon.
Rose assessed he was probably not more than two or three years older than her.
He was average height, lean but quite muscular, well kempt with greying hair and not unpleasant to look at.
“What were you doing in there anyway?” she asked
“I am trying to reattach the honeysuckle to the trellis, not that it’s any of your business” he replied shortly “now what do you want?”
“Well I’m staying in the village for a few days” She began
“So?” he snapped
“And I was told that you have a wonderful view of the church from your meadow” she said
“Its private property” he snapped again
“I just wanted to spend an hour or two in the meadow painting” she said
“No” he instantly replied and returned from whence he came and the rustling continued.
Rose was unhappy with the exchange and was scolding herself for not being more forceful, the only way to deal with a bully was to bully them.
Rose was just about to tackle him again.
“Oh bugger it” he cursed
And the activity ceased amongst the Honeysuckle and he reappeared with a blood stained hankie wrapped around his hand.
“What’s the matter?” she asked
“Are you still here?” he asked
“What have you done?” Rose inquired
“Nothing” he snapped
“That’s clearly not true” she said
“Let me look” she insisted
“I don’t need any help” he barked
“Don’t be silly” she scolded
“I’m a nurse, let me see”
He removed the blood stained hankie and she looked at the wound.
“It’s quite deep, but it shouldn’t need stitching” she said “but it will need cleaning, I take it you have a kitchen?”
“Yes of course” he replied
“Then lead on McDuff” she commanded
“Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” he said crossly
“Oh yes” she replied “has anyone ever told you you’re a curmudgeon”
“Only the vicar” he replied
Rose cleaned it thoroughly and then dried it well and applied the butterfly stitches from the first aid kit in her bag.
“So the Vicars been telling you my business has he?”
He snapped
“For reasons that are beyond understanding there are people in this village who care about you” she replied “If you ever stopped to think”
“I’m not used to being spoken to like that” he said pompously
“More’s the pity” she replied
There was silence while she dressed his hand and when she’d finished she said
“Now you can’t use it for at least a week or you’ll open it up again”
He held it up and inspected it
“Not a bad job” he said
“Oh high praise indeed, so are you going to let me paint in your meadow?” she asked “Payment in kind for services rendered”
“I wouldn’t have cut my bloody hand in the first place if you had come snooping around” he replied
“Tosh” she responded “you were lucky I was here”
“You are an infuriating woman” Scott said
“Yes I know” she replied “now are you going to show me the way?”
“Bossy mare” he said

As they began the walk to the meadow there was an awkward silence so Rose told the story of how she had broken down and the Vicar had come to her aid
“He’s a good man” Daniel said “But don’t you tell him I said so”
“So it’s not him you’re mad at, then?” She asked
“What do you mean?” he asked but she didn’t answer as she was looking across the river at the picturesque view of the church
“Now that’s what I wanted to see” she said
“It’s alright I suppose” he said begrudgingly
Rose scanned along the river bank until she spotted the vicarage garden and saw Caroline on the patio waving at her.
“I’ll leave you to it” he said sulkily
“Thank you Mr Scott” Rose said
“Daniel” he mumbled
“I beg your pardon” Rose asked
“Call me Daniel” he said and walked away briskly

There was no sign of him in his garden when she was finished so she put a note through his door thanking him and that she hoped she could do the same the following day.
It was another fine day on Thursday and Rose set off for the meadow straight after breakfast.
She called in at the General Store and picked up some bottled water and a sandwich for her lunch, she had forgotten to take anything with her the day before.
But as she was leaving the shop she met Caroline Turner who was on her way in.
“Rose” she said
“Caroline hi” Rose replied
“So he let you then?” Caroline asked “how on earth did you manage it”?
“Well at first I was polite, but when that didn’t work I bullied him into submission” Rose replied
“Well done you” she said and seeing Rose was carrying her painting gear, asked
“Are you going back again?”
“Yes” Rose replied “if I can get away with it”
“Well good luck” Caroline said “come for dinner Friday night and tell us how you got on”
“Ok” Rose said “see you later”

She continued on through the village until she reached Old Farm and once again there was no sign of the old curmudgeon so she carried on down the lane to the meadow.
Rose quickly set up her easel and began painting and in what seemed like a blink of an eye the morning was gone so she cleaned her brushes and stopped for lunch.
The afternoon sun was very hot so she packed up around 2 o’clock and headed back up the lane.
She looked for Daniel as she passed the house but there was no sign of him outside, she did fancy she saw him at a downstairs window but she wasn’t sure but she smiled and waved anyway.

(Part Five)

On Friday morning she repeated the pattern and set off straight after breakfast, bought her lunch at the Store and was set up in meadow by 10 o’clock.
Rose was sure she noticed a curtain twitch as she passed the house but if it was him he didn’t make himself known.
It was a little cooler in the meadow that morning with a refreshing breeze blowing off the water.
It was when she was cleaning her brushes in preparation of stopping for her sandwich that she was disturbed by a voice behind her.
“Hello”
Rose turned around sharply and saw Daniel Scott standing a few yards away holding a picnic basket
“Oh hello” she replied “What have you got there?”
“Lunch” he replied and sat down beside her and opened up the hamper.
She was quite surprised to see him not behaving curmudgeonly as he served the lunch.
Afterwards with all the food consumed they were on their last glass of wine when Rose said.
“Thank you Daniel that was a most pleasant lunch, and pleasant company”
“You sound surprised” he said sharply
“Yes” she replied “But pleasantly”

Rose was a little light headed as they walked back up the lane and when they got to the house she said
“I’m having dinner at the Vicarage tonight”
“Oh yes” he said suspiciously
“I’d like you to join me” Rose said
“Definitely not” he snapped
“Its high time” she said and he shook his head
“What do you think Mary would say? If she could see you hiding yourself away, wallowing in self-pity, being angry with the world and everyone in it”
“What do you know about it” he said angrily “You didn’t even know her”
“Am I wrong then?” Rose asked
“Why can’t you just leave me alone to deal with it in my own way?” he shouted and rushed towards the house
“Because your way is rubbish” she shouted after him

Rose was angry with herself for being too pushy, it was the wine she supposed.
On the way back to the Hotel she mulled over their conversation and wondered if she couldn’t have handled it differently.
When she reached the Coachman’s she lay on the bed and slept for the rest of the afternoon.
When she awoke she ran herself a bath and prepared for a long relaxing soak.
“What did it matter anyway” she thought to herself as she lay immersed in the bubbly water “I’ll be gone in a day or two”
“Well it matters” she said out loud “because I like the miserable old git”

After her bath she felt suitably refreshed and was possessed of a new resolve.
Having dried her hair and made herself up she put on the most presentable clothes she had packed and stood in front of the mirror to check the damage.
“Well that will have to do” Rose said to herself picked up her handbag and left the room.

Twenty minutes later she was knocking on Daniel Scott’s front door.
It was a few minutes before it opened.
“Good evening Daniel” she said
“Hello” he mumbled
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Rose asked
“I suppose so” he said grumpily and stepped back to let her in.
“Thanks” she said
“You look very nice” he said quietly
“Well thank you kind sir” Rose said and gave a little curtsy
There was an awkward couple of minutes when neither of them spoke so Rose looked at her watch and said
“Well we had better make a move, the Turners are expecting us in 10 minutes”
“I’m not going” he said
“Oh yes you are” she said determinedly “Now get your coat”
“I’m not going out” he said resolutely “I’ll get a takeaway and we can eat here”
“Oh I see so I “look very nice” but you don’t want to be seen with me in public” she said baiting him
“That’s not what I said, you’re putting words in my mouth” he responded
“The Vicarage then” she said firmly “Get your coat”
“You really are bossy” he said slipping his jacket on
“And you really are a curmudgeon” Rose said

On the short walk to the Vicarage the conversation between them was restricted to the weather and the picturesqueness of the village.
When they reached the Vicarage he faltered half way along the path so Rose slipped her arm through his and guided him the rest of the way.
She rang the doorbell and a few moments later Caroline answered the door.
“Rose how lovely to see you” then she did a double take of her companion “And Daniel, what a wonderful surprise, come in, come in Richard will be thrilled”
“I thought you said WE were expected” Daniel whispered
“Oh did I?” Rose asked innocently

It was very late when they left the Vicarage in fact it was two hours into Saturday by the time the goodbyes had been said.
They were arm in arm as Daniel walked Rose back to the Hotel,
“I’ve had a lovely time” Rose said outside the Coachman’s
“Me too” Daniel said and kissed her cheek
“Goodnight Rose” And he was off down the road
“Goodnight” she called after him and then said to herself
“That was a very agreeable beginning”

(Part Six)

On Saturday she slept late, which was very unusual for her and she had a most disagreeable headache.
She sat up and took a couple of tablets and flicked on the kettle.
As she waited for it to boil she looked at her phone and noticed there were three text messages all from an unknown number.
The first, time coded 2.45am, simply said “Thank you”
The second, timed at 7.45am, said “I had a great time last night”
The third, Said “I have packed a picnic, I will pick you up at noon, bring your paints there’s a castle”
Rose looked at her watch 11.30
“Shit” she exclaimed and leapt up and rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, when she had a sudden thought.
She went back to the bed and picked up her phone and replied to his last text
“Ok see outside at 12”

Rose had been standing outside the Hotel for about 30 seconds when a green Landrover Discovery pulled up.
Daniel got out and walked around, he took Rose’s things and helped her into the passenger seat.
“Thank you” she said as he settled her in
“All set?” Daniel asked when he was back behind the wheel.
“Yes” she said “Where are we going, you mentioned a castle”
“Cleverley” he replied “but I may have oversold the Castle”
“Oh?”
“Yes, it used to be a Castle but its only ruins now” he said
“Even better” Rose said amicably

Rose supposed the Cleverley Castle must have been an imposing sight up on its hill overlooking the Deighton valley.
Now it was just a collection of ruins, which could still be clearly identified as having once been a Castle.
It made for a very interesting subject for a water colourist and Rose enjoyed it very much.
She also enjoyed Daniels amicable company and his picnic
“You put together a very nice picnic Mr Scott” she said
“Even without the wine”
Daniel had omitted to include the wine and Rose had teased him about it.
As they were packing up at the end of the day Rose said
“I’m going to church in the morning and I thought you might like to accompany me as I’m a stranger in the parish”
“Oh I don’t think so” he replied
“Well you didn’t think you could go to the Vicarage but you did and furthermore you enjoyed every minute”
“That was different” he said stubbornly
“How so?” Rose asked
“I wasn’t angry with Richard and Caroline, I had been pushing them away for so long that I didn’t know how to approach them”
He explained
“But God and I are not on speaking terms because I’m still angry with him”
“I know your faith has been tested” Rose said softly
“But don’t you think my faith isn’t tested every time I see a young child taken before their time? But that’s what life is all about being tested”
Daniel was silently staring into space as Rose continued
“The people of the parish didn’t take Mary away and they are the people who want to see you again, go to church to see them, show them they still have a friend”
“I don’t know” he said
“I’ll be there with you” Rose assured him

“I’m not sure about this” Daniel said as they stood by the lych-gate outside St Augustine’s on Sunday morning
“Good to see you Daniel” a man said slapping him on the back
“You see they’re all friends here” she said and she held his hand as they walked up the path and into the church.
She gave his hand a final squeeze and opened the door in to the church where he was greeted by a group of friends eager to welcome him back.

The following day Rose and Daniel were in the village of Brocklington about six miles downstream of Deighton and they were sat in a pub garden by the river eating Whitebait in the sunshine.
“You’ve only been in Deighton for one short week Rose Ganly” he said
“And you’ve turned my world upside down”
“It needed shaking up a bit” she said
“Well you did that sure enough” Daniel admitted
They had just finished their deserts when her mobile phone rang.
“Hello!” she said
“Mr Mault?”
“Excellent news”
“Yes”
“I’ll pick it up this afternoon”
“Thank you, goodbye” she said and hung up.
“Well my car has been repaired” she said putting her mobile back in her bag
“I can get under way just as soon as I want” she said
“The world is my oyster, well as long as it’s in this country because I didn’t bring a passport”
Daniel was just looking down at his feet
“Where are you going?” he asked
“I don’t know exactly” she replied “but I’ve got 3 weeks to get there”
She took a sip of her drink
“Why don’t you come with me?” Rose suggested
“What just like that?” he said
“Why not?” she asked but he didn’t answer

He drove her back to Deighton and dropped her outside Mault’s garage.
“Come to mine tonight” he said “we’ll have a takeaway”
“Ok” she said “but think about what I said, it could be fun”
And then she leant over and kissed him.

It started to rain as she was getting ready so she decided to drive up to Daniels.
There was not a repeat of the late night of Friday they just ate their Chinese takeaway and watched a movie and the conversation was sparse with both of them avoiding the elephant in the room but eventually just before she left Rose said
“I’m having coffee with Richard and Caroline at the vicarage tomorrow morning, and I’ll be leaving at eleven if you want to come with me meet me there”

Next morning Rose checked out of the Coachman’s Arms for the second time and drove to the vicarage.
“I’ve had a wonderful week here” Rose said “and I only planned to stay one night”
“I think it was divine intervention” said the Vicar
“You might well be right” she agreed “But enjoy it I certainly have, and I hope I’ve made lasting friendships”
“I hope so too” Caroline said
“And Daniel?” Richard asked
“Well I asked him to go with me” she said
“And?” Caroline enquired
“Well he’s not here so I guess it’s a no” Rose replied
“Will you come back and see us on the way home Rose?” She asked
“Yes I think so” Rose replied and looked at her watch
“Well I had better get on my way”
Rose had her back to the outdoors as she said goodbye to the Turners
When Richard said “It looks like it’s a yes then”
“What?” Rose exclaimed and Richard nodded beyond her, so she turned around and saw him standing by the gate with a holdall in his hand.