(Part 01)
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 in the East, or more precisely, 20 miles inland from Sharpington-By-Sea, equidistant between Finchbottom and Pepperstock Green, in the sprawling village of Denmead.
Owen Carrington’s Uncle Glyn died on New Year’s Day and left him his Cottage and a small cash sum, more than enough to keep him going for a few more years.
He left it to him because he felt they were kindred spirits, he wanted to be a writer himself but his father made him get a proper job, Owen really liked him and he was a great story teller, and it was his Uncles colourful tales that helped him when he was writing his novels.
His death came as a great shock as it was sudden though not unsurprising given his health.
So that was how he found himself living in a lovely Victorian Cottage in the quaint Downshire Village of Denmead.
It was a very tranquil place though not without its distractions.
From his study he could look out through the open French windows and across the expanse of lawn to a stand of ancient woodland, there was no fence to separate garden and wood the two just merged.
And on the other side of the wood was the hub of the village, the Green Oak, everyone seemed to go there at some point, either for a drink, the restaurant or the coffee suite.
As a writer Owen’s star was definitely in the ascendency after the success of his first Romantic novel “The Maiden Muse” but the change in the fortunes of his writing career were not universally well received, his publisher liked it, his new agent loved it, the bank manager was ecstatic about it but his mother was disappointed by it because she thought it was a bit girlie.
But it wasn’t just his writing career that was climbing high, so was his love life thanks to his muse and lover, Juliana Molesworth, who had brought his writers block to an end, and since she had become his muse he had become a writer of bodice ripping romances which had proved to be an occupation which suited him very well indeed.
And it suited him in many ways, but the main benefit was that he was able to work at home, so he had no tedious commute every day and his working day was flexible to the point that some days he didn’t write at all.
This afforded him the opportunity of playing a round of Golf during the working week when most people had their noses to the grindstone or even taking a day out to go fishing.
(Part 02)
Owen Carrington’s muse and lover Juliana Molesworth, was in her third year at the University of Downshire where she studied English at Abbottsford.
In the short time they had been together she had come to mean everything to him so in the final weeks of the year he did something that rocked her world, he asked her to marry him, and she said yes.
Since the day of the proposal they missed each other terribly while she was at University and he was in Denmead time hung heavy so he was really looking forward to her coming home for the three week Christmas break.
Due to some heavy snow fall over night and him having to clear the drive before he could get the car out of the garage, he was about forty minutes late leaving for the drive to Abbottsford.
He called ahead to let Juliana know he was running late but she was ok about it as she was all behind herself.
He got to Juliana’s place around one o’clock and miracle of miracles she was ready to go.
Half an hour after he finished loading the car they finally got away when she had finished saying her goodbyes of course.
When they got back to Denmead he thought Juliana would be eager to be reunited with her nearest and dearest, but it turned out that she was more eager to be reunited with him.
“Don’t take me home yet” she said as they entered the village
“Aren’t you in a hurry to see your mum and dad?” he asked
“Yes, but I want to spend a couple of hours with my fiancé first” she said
“I like the way that sounds” Owen replied
He parked on the drive and walked to the door and went inside and they had barely got through the front door before she launched herself at him and kissed him.
“Merry Christmas” she said
They spent a pleasant couple of hours cuddling on the sofa as they watched a classic Christmas movie and when it was finished he was allowed to take her home to be reunited with her family.
It was starting to snow again as he reversed onto the Molesworth’s drive, it was little more than a flurry really, barely even enough to qualify as a light shower.
He unloaded the car while Juliana rushed inside and hugged her waiting parents and he traipsed in with her stuff amidst the scene of reuniting embraces and jovial laughter.
And after a farewell kiss when his duties were fulfilled he left the Molesworth’s to their reunion and drove home.
But he knew he would see his homecoming muse again the next day.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Wednesday, 7 June 2017
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (73) Miss Kirby and the Curate
(Part 01)
Virginia Kirby was a ward sister at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was a rather plain middle-aged woman just the wrong side of 50.
Virginia was five foot six inches tall and very trim, and stood an inch or so taller in her stout shoes, and her sisters uniform fitted her perfectly, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.
Her once black hair was now streaked with grey and bore what Catherine Cookson fans would recognise as the “Mallen streak”.
She was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t all due to laughter lines, life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face as well, each line and furrow an event and for those who could read such signs it was like her résumé.
She was well-liked and respected at work but none of her colleagues knew her outside of work and assumed she was just a sad lonely spinster.
That was due in part to the fact that she was a private person and didn’t talk of her private life and also because those who had happened to see her outside of work reported back that she was a frump as she choose to dress in the twin set and tweed style because sartorially Virginia was a sensible shoes and utilitarian tights kind of woman.
Even people from the village of Dulcet St Mary, where she had lived for 20 years believed her to be a sad lonely old soul and many of them referred to her as “the prudish Miss Kirby” or “virginal Virginia” or “the dried up old spinster”.
But as more than one man had found out over the years to their surprise beneath the frumpy exterior lay a hidden warmth.
The other thing that tended to reinforce the stereotype was her heavy involvement with St Mary’s church but even the other congregants were unaware of her true nature.
Which was why when a new curate arrived at St Mary’s and was in need of lodgings Virginal Virginia was as always the obvious choice.
Being single and living in a four bedroom house she always had room for a lodger and being the epitome of respectability and a dried up old virgin to boot there was never a hint of impropriety.
So that was how it came about that the new curate, 34 year old Colin Ash, came to be knocking on Virginia’s front door one cold winters evening.
“Mrs Kirby?” he asked as she opened the door and she gave the curate an appraising glance, he was tall and lean with curly mousy hair and blue eyes and a nervous smile.
“Miss” she replied, and there was a moment’s hesitation as he digested the information that she was unmarried but Virginia Kirby was quite small and slim, much smaller than Colin, dowdy and frumpy looking, on looking her up and down he felt all was in order.
“I’m Colin Ash” he said “the new curate, I’ve come to look at the room”
“Yes do come in Colin” she said amiably “I’m all ready for you”
“Thank you” he said and stepped into the hall
“Go up” she urged “Turn left at the top of the stairs and it’s the second door on the right, I’ll follow you up”
“Excellent” he said and Colin started up the stairs and Virginia followed him.
He followed her instructions and turned left but he opened the first door on the right by mistake and just as he was about to step inside Virginia shouted
“No not that one”
But the call came too late because he stepped inside the moment he pushed the door open but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away because standing in the middle of the room was an attractive young woman of a similar build to Miss Kirby, wearing a bra, pants and tights, and he had taken her by surprise before she’d finished dressing.
(Part 02)
The call from Victoria came too late, because Colin stepped over the threshold the moment he pushed the door open, but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away, because standing in the middle of the room was an attractive young woman of a similar build to Miss Kirby, wearing a bra, pants and tights, and he had taken her by surprise before she’d finished dressing.
“Oh God” she said frantically looking around for something to cover her embarrassment and becoming more and more flustered every second
“I’m so sorry” he said, apologizing for his stupidity as well as for embarrassing her
“Here use this” he added and handed her his coat
“Oh God” she said again snatching the coat from his hand and covering herself.
“I really am sorry” he said feebly as she pushed him out the door
“Oh dear” he said and turned to look at Virginia
“You’ve met my niece then” Virginia said
Molly Kirby was 30 years old, quite small and slim like her aunt and pretty and was staying with her aunt for a few days while she was getting over a messy break up.
And apart from the fact she had been caught in a state of near undress by a complete stranger and a man of the cloth to boot, she was rather taken by the look of her peeper and he was very apologetic and behaved very gentlemanly when he offered her his coat.
“And he had a Nice bum” she thought to herself
After the informal meeting in her bedroom there was a quite natural awkwardness between them, the problem was that they lived in the same house, on the same floor, next door to each other.
It was a large Victorian house but it was very difficult for him to get to his room without passing her room and thus bumping into Molly was unavoidable.
Not that he didn’t like seeing her, he did, very much, and as to bumping into her, he thought of little else, in fact as a Curate he had very ungodly thoughts about her, and the image of her in her underwear was burned into his brain.
But the status quo would have been maintained indefinitely had it not been for two unrelated events that occurred on the same day.
The first event was Colin having to administer the last rites to his own grandmother which left him at a very low ebb and the second was when Molly discovered that her ex-boyfriend was engaged to her best friend, or at least her former best friend.
On receiving the news Molly repaired to the Cross Keys to drown her sorrows where she tried her best to get very drunk very quickly but the pub closed before she succeeded so she went home.
Once she reached the front door she tried in vain for some time to unite her door key with the lock but after a few minutes as she struggled to achieve her aim the door opened and Colin was standing there as he was heading in the opposite direction.
There was a moment’s delay when they just stared at each other before Molly, who was much smaller than Colin, surprised him when she leapt up and kissed him full on the lips and before he knew what he was doing he was kissing her back.
He wasn’t sure if a curate should have been indulging in such behaviour but he thought she was a very good kisser, so apart from pausing long enough to pull her across the threshold and close the door, he carried on.
And the kissing marked new beginnings for them both in the village of Dulcet St Mary where in time he would become the Vicar and she would become his wife.
Virginia Kirby was a ward sister at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was a rather plain middle-aged woman just the wrong side of 50.
Virginia was five foot six inches tall and very trim, and stood an inch or so taller in her stout shoes, and her sisters uniform fitted her perfectly, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.
Her once black hair was now streaked with grey and bore what Catherine Cookson fans would recognise as the “Mallen streak”.
She was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t all due to laughter lines, life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face as well, each line and furrow an event and for those who could read such signs it was like her résumé.
She was well-liked and respected at work but none of her colleagues knew her outside of work and assumed she was just a sad lonely spinster.
That was due in part to the fact that she was a private person and didn’t talk of her private life and also because those who had happened to see her outside of work reported back that she was a frump as she choose to dress in the twin set and tweed style because sartorially Virginia was a sensible shoes and utilitarian tights kind of woman.
Even people from the village of Dulcet St Mary, where she had lived for 20 years believed her to be a sad lonely old soul and many of them referred to her as “the prudish Miss Kirby” or “virginal Virginia” or “the dried up old spinster”.
But as more than one man had found out over the years to their surprise beneath the frumpy exterior lay a hidden warmth.
The other thing that tended to reinforce the stereotype was her heavy involvement with St Mary’s church but even the other congregants were unaware of her true nature.
Which was why when a new curate arrived at St Mary’s and was in need of lodgings Virginal Virginia was as always the obvious choice.
Being single and living in a four bedroom house she always had room for a lodger and being the epitome of respectability and a dried up old virgin to boot there was never a hint of impropriety.
So that was how it came about that the new curate, 34 year old Colin Ash, came to be knocking on Virginia’s front door one cold winters evening.
“Mrs Kirby?” he asked as she opened the door and she gave the curate an appraising glance, he was tall and lean with curly mousy hair and blue eyes and a nervous smile.
“Miss” she replied, and there was a moment’s hesitation as he digested the information that she was unmarried but Virginia Kirby was quite small and slim, much smaller than Colin, dowdy and frumpy looking, on looking her up and down he felt all was in order.
“I’m Colin Ash” he said “the new curate, I’ve come to look at the room”
“Yes do come in Colin” she said amiably “I’m all ready for you”
“Thank you” he said and stepped into the hall
“Go up” she urged “Turn left at the top of the stairs and it’s the second door on the right, I’ll follow you up”
“Excellent” he said and Colin started up the stairs and Virginia followed him.
He followed her instructions and turned left but he opened the first door on the right by mistake and just as he was about to step inside Virginia shouted
“No not that one”
But the call came too late because he stepped inside the moment he pushed the door open but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away because standing in the middle of the room was an attractive young woman of a similar build to Miss Kirby, wearing a bra, pants and tights, and he had taken her by surprise before she’d finished dressing.
(Part 02)
The call from Victoria came too late, because Colin stepped over the threshold the moment he pushed the door open, but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away, because standing in the middle of the room was an attractive young woman of a similar build to Miss Kirby, wearing a bra, pants and tights, and he had taken her by surprise before she’d finished dressing.
“Oh God” she said frantically looking around for something to cover her embarrassment and becoming more and more flustered every second
“I’m so sorry” he said, apologizing for his stupidity as well as for embarrassing her
“Here use this” he added and handed her his coat
“Oh God” she said again snatching the coat from his hand and covering herself.
“I really am sorry” he said feebly as she pushed him out the door
“Oh dear” he said and turned to look at Virginia
“You’ve met my niece then” Virginia said
Molly Kirby was 30 years old, quite small and slim like her aunt and pretty and was staying with her aunt for a few days while she was getting over a messy break up.
And apart from the fact she had been caught in a state of near undress by a complete stranger and a man of the cloth to boot, she was rather taken by the look of her peeper and he was very apologetic and behaved very gentlemanly when he offered her his coat.
“And he had a Nice bum” she thought to herself
After the informal meeting in her bedroom there was a quite natural awkwardness between them, the problem was that they lived in the same house, on the same floor, next door to each other.
It was a large Victorian house but it was very difficult for him to get to his room without passing her room and thus bumping into Molly was unavoidable.
Not that he didn’t like seeing her, he did, very much, and as to bumping into her, he thought of little else, in fact as a Curate he had very ungodly thoughts about her, and the image of her in her underwear was burned into his brain.
But the status quo would have been maintained indefinitely had it not been for two unrelated events that occurred on the same day.
The first event was Colin having to administer the last rites to his own grandmother which left him at a very low ebb and the second was when Molly discovered that her ex-boyfriend was engaged to her best friend, or at least her former best friend.
On receiving the news Molly repaired to the Cross Keys to drown her sorrows where she tried her best to get very drunk very quickly but the pub closed before she succeeded so she went home.
Once she reached the front door she tried in vain for some time to unite her door key with the lock but after a few minutes as she struggled to achieve her aim the door opened and Colin was standing there as he was heading in the opposite direction.
There was a moment’s delay when they just stared at each other before Molly, who was much smaller than Colin, surprised him when she leapt up and kissed him full on the lips and before he knew what he was doing he was kissing her back.
He wasn’t sure if a curate should have been indulging in such behaviour but he thought she was a very good kisser, so apart from pausing long enough to pull her across the threshold and close the door, he carried on.
And the kissing marked new beginnings for them both in the village of Dulcet St Mary where in time he would become the Vicar and she would become his wife.
Mornington-By-Mere – (75) Double Trouble
(Part 01)
Dee and Elsa Larsen were twins, blue eyed, blonde and very gorgeous, Elsa was the older of the two by a few minutes, and stood five foot two while Dee was an inch shorter, and they lived in the quaint chocolate box English Village of Mornington-By-Mere, which was the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It’s a quaint and picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
Their home was in Military Row, at number 15 where they lived with their parents, Glen and Shelley, and they were just about to come of age.
They were not natives of the village and only moved to the village when Paige Turners, the firm their parents worked for moved to Mornington Field.
Apart from being twin sisters they were also the best of friends and did everything together which to be perfectly honest mainly concerned their interest in boys, and their leisure time was spent mainly in pursuit of the opposite sex but there were limitations, so sailing, mountain biking, orienteering, climbing, and the like were off the menu because basically Dee and Elsa were not the outdoorsy type and they were girlie girls.
They were not tomboys, they did not wear genderless fashion, and everything was very definitely feminine they wouldn’t be seen dead in baseball boots or work boots.
Not that they didn’t wear casual leisure wear but they always looked like girls.
The girls were gregarious, bubbly and outgoing and everybody liked them and they had no shortage of admirers but the two girls had a pact, and that was that if one sister met someone that they particularly liked, the other one had to approve, but ideally if one got one then so must the other.
Not that they came into contact with many likely contenders in Mornington, they liked the Village well enough but there wasn’t that much to do or indeed anyone to do it with when the occasion arose, that was until they discovered that the Potter boys had arrived.
The Potters had moved to Mornington in March when the company that their father worked for, Digitize Image Lab, moved from Northchapel.
It was a good time to move as the boys had finished school, Mark was 18 and set to leave for University in September and Shaun was two years younger and would be going to college.
Despite arriving in March the twins didn’t meet the boys until the end of June and the fact that they had lived in the same small village for the best part of four months without knowing that the others existed was something of a miracle.
They almost met on several occasions but the fates always seemed to intervene, the closest such near miss was at the Mornington Beer Festival where the twins disgraced themselves by getting drunk which led to them being frog marched home by their father minutes before the Potters left the main marquee.
The act of underage drinking and public inebriation earned the twins a grounding which kept them out of circulation until almost the end of June when fate had a change of heart and engineered their meeting instead.
(Part 02)
Despite the fact that they lived in a small village the long awaited first meeting between the Larsen girls and the Potter boys didn’t happen in Mornington but at the Seaside town of Sharpington-by-Sea, and even then they kept missing each other.
There was so much to do at Sharpington with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, the well maintained gardens, a pristine promenade, theatre and illuminations, plus all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.
Mark and Shaun were staying up at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park for the week and they were having a great time but the Sharpington Fun Park was a particular favourite.
It was the first purpose built amusement park to open in Britain, which was a proud boast for the locals.
The Fun Park had an assortment of rides, like the Rotor and the Wild Mouse, The Cyclone and the Morehouse Galloper, all very tame compared to a 21st century roller coaster but it was still fun and still popular with visitors and locals a like.
And on three occasions the Potters brothers and the Larsen twins were within ten feet of each other but were looking the other way.
The twins were only there for the day and went with their parents but as soon as they arrived they went their separate ways for the morning but met up for lunch on the seafront then they separated again until it was time for a visit to Bizzoni’s Ice Cream Parlour.
It was after ice creams that they spent an hour or so as a family and ended up on the crazy Golf and that was the moment while Glen Larsen was trying to putt through a moving windmill and into a clowns mouth that Dee and Elsa spotted the devastatingly good looking Potter brothers on the adjacent hole.
Mark and Shaun weren’t identical but they were clearly brothers and the girls thought they were absolutely gorgeous and as a result from that moment on they had their caps well and truly set.
There was never a moment’s argument as to who liked which brother they were instantly attracted to one each, which was great for their relationship.
The problem was they had never before been interested enough in a boy to make an approach and although they were instantly smitten they had absolutely no idea how to do anything about it.
They had never had to know because boys had always chased them and they just had to choose a suitable candidate and bat away the rest, they had never had to do any chasing themselves.
They were fidgeting uneasily as they both tried to think what to do because the Potters were two holes ahead of them and would be gone to God knew where before they were done.
And then just before it looked like the gorgeous young men were a lost cause they were rescued at the last possible second by of all people their mother Shelley.
“Hello boys” she said “What a coincidence running into you all the way over here”
The girls looked on with open mouths as their mum chatted casually with the boys and they chatted back and the girls thought they sounded as sexy as they looked.
She introduced them to Glen and then after about five minutes she said
“Oh and these two are Dee and Elsa”
“Hi” Mark said and in response Dee blushed and Elsa giggled
(Part 03)
On the drive home from Sharpington Shelley Larson was bombarded with questions from the twins about the Potters, and by the time they got back to Mornington they had extracted every ounce of information about them.
After the first encounter with them at the crazy golf the twins talked about the gorgeous Potter boys constantly, and they heartily approved of the other ones choice, but that was as far as it went because they didn’t know what to do next.
There were a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere road and Dulcets Lane which formed the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and Mark and Shaun Potter lived at number 3 Dulcet Mill Lane with their father Karl Mark and Shaun.
The Potters had only been in the village since April when the company he worked for, Digitize Image Lab, moved to Mornington Field from Northchapel.
It was very opportune timing because he had already decided before he found out about the move that he would move to pastures new so he and the boys could have a fresh start, because they all struggled to come to terms with the loss of their mother and wife, respectively, in the family home they had all shared.
Rose Potter was diagnosed with breast cancer in April of 2014 and finally succumbed to the disease in mid-August.
They had thought that with times healing hand things would return to some form of normality, but it didn’t work out that way and in reality everything in the house was a constant reminder of what they had lost, every stick of furniture, every picture, ornament and memento screamed at them, “she’s gone”, even the wallpaper and carpets joined in the chorus.
So they made the move and were all happy with the way things had turned out.
Mark was the eldest by 2 years, he was also two inches taller and more self-confidence than Shaun.
They were both athletically built with dark curly hair and blue eyes and although they were unaware of it Dee and Elsa had not gone unnoticed by the boys, but then how could they not have noticed them, they were beautiful after all.
But Mark was reluctant to get involved with someone so close to him starting University but he was definitely tempted, but in the end he resolved not to be proactive and just see what happened.
Dee and Elsa were also pleased that they had moved to the Village but they lived at the opposite end from where the girls lived and so it was unlikely that they would bump into each other by accident, so they would have to engineer such meetings.
Dee however wasn’t prepared to go searching, her philosophy was that he knew where she was and he would have to come and get her.
Elsa was having none of that kind of attitude, they had finally met two drop dead gorgeous boys that they both liked and she wasn’t going to sit at home waiting for a knock on the door that might never come.
So it was down to her to engineer a meeting where she could use her charms although in truth she became a stalker and Shaun Potter was her prey.
It was two weeks since the twins met the Potter boys in Sharpington and Dee became increasingly frustrated at the failure of Mark Potter to come knocking on her door.
While Elsa had little more success with her own tactic of stalking Shaun.
She carried a little note book of the times of his comings and goings, where he went and who he met but just when she was about to ambush him, someone would come along and spoil things.
Elsa’s chance to speak to Shaun finally came quite by chance one Sunday Morning as she was walking home after church.
(Part 04)
Elsa’s chance to speak to Shaun finally came quite by chance one Sunday Morning as she was walking home after church, Dee hadn’t gone as she was still sitting at home waiting for prince Charming to call by.
She had left her parents outside St Winifred’s and was walking along the riverside path towards the Old East Mill when Shaun came racing around the corner on his bike, at pace and nearly ran her over.
“Watch it” she said and jumped out of the way and he screeched to a halt
“Sorry Elsa” he said “I didn’t think”
He was in a hurry because he wanted to get to St Winifred before the service was over in order to see her, because that was the one time and place that he knew she would be.
He really liked her and unlike his brother he didn’t want to wait and see, but he had never had a girlfriend and he didn’t really think he stood a chance with her but he knew he had to try before someone else snapped her up.
She looked at his beautiful dark curls spilling down beneath his helmet, his eyes sparkled and his cheeks were ruddy from exertion.
Shaun had one foot on the floor and the other on the pedal and her eyes were fixed on the shape of his thigh and the firmness of his buttock and she was transfixed.
Then he caught her looking and she blushed scarlet and looked away.
“So why are you in such a hurry?” she asked
“Oh no reason” he lied
They then waited in silence hoping the other would speak,
Him fidgeting on the saddle and her shuffling her feet until he said
“Well I’d better get going”
“Oh ok” she said failing to hide her disappointment as he started to pedal away
“Bye” he said and she cursed under her breath, then she breathed in deeply and shouted after him
“Do you want to go to the pictures?”
He braked sharply and dropped the bike and ran back towards her.
“Yes, when?”
“Well, that depends” she said and he looked crestfallen
“On what?” he asked thinking the worst
“On when your brother asks my sister out” she replied and he laughed
“No problem” he retorted
“What are you looking so pleased about?” Mark asked as Shaun walked in the room
“I have a date” he replied
“With who?”
“Elsa Larsen” he said
“Really?” Mark said “I didn’t know you liked her”
“Oh I like her a lot” he said “I like everything about her”
“Really?”
“Yes” Shaun replied
“I feel much the same about her sister” Mark admitted
“Good, because now you have to go and ask her out” Shaun told him
“Alright bossy” he said “I’ll do it later”
“Now” Shaun insisted
“Later”
“You need to do it right now” he said “I don’t want you blowing my chances”
“Ok” he said and headed towards the front door with Shaun right behind him
“Why are you following me?” Mark asked
“To make sure you don’t chicken out” he replied
And that was how after having made the decision to wait to be asked Dee Larsen got her wish and despite his reservations Mark Potter had a girlfriend in the village when he went off to University.
Dee and Elsa Larsen were twins, blue eyed, blonde and very gorgeous, Elsa was the older of the two by a few minutes, and stood five foot two while Dee was an inch shorter, and they lived in the quaint chocolate box English Village of Mornington-By-Mere, which was the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It’s a quaint and picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
Their home was in Military Row, at number 15 where they lived with their parents, Glen and Shelley, and they were just about to come of age.
They were not natives of the village and only moved to the village when Paige Turners, the firm their parents worked for moved to Mornington Field.
Apart from being twin sisters they were also the best of friends and did everything together which to be perfectly honest mainly concerned their interest in boys, and their leisure time was spent mainly in pursuit of the opposite sex but there were limitations, so sailing, mountain biking, orienteering, climbing, and the like were off the menu because basically Dee and Elsa were not the outdoorsy type and they were girlie girls.
They were not tomboys, they did not wear genderless fashion, and everything was very definitely feminine they wouldn’t be seen dead in baseball boots or work boots.
Not that they didn’t wear casual leisure wear but they always looked like girls.
The girls were gregarious, bubbly and outgoing and everybody liked them and they had no shortage of admirers but the two girls had a pact, and that was that if one sister met someone that they particularly liked, the other one had to approve, but ideally if one got one then so must the other.
Not that they came into contact with many likely contenders in Mornington, they liked the Village well enough but there wasn’t that much to do or indeed anyone to do it with when the occasion arose, that was until they discovered that the Potter boys had arrived.
The Potters had moved to Mornington in March when the company that their father worked for, Digitize Image Lab, moved from Northchapel.
It was a good time to move as the boys had finished school, Mark was 18 and set to leave for University in September and Shaun was two years younger and would be going to college.
Despite arriving in March the twins didn’t meet the boys until the end of June and the fact that they had lived in the same small village for the best part of four months without knowing that the others existed was something of a miracle.
They almost met on several occasions but the fates always seemed to intervene, the closest such near miss was at the Mornington Beer Festival where the twins disgraced themselves by getting drunk which led to them being frog marched home by their father minutes before the Potters left the main marquee.
The act of underage drinking and public inebriation earned the twins a grounding which kept them out of circulation until almost the end of June when fate had a change of heart and engineered their meeting instead.
(Part 02)
Despite the fact that they lived in a small village the long awaited first meeting between the Larsen girls and the Potter boys didn’t happen in Mornington but at the Seaside town of Sharpington-by-Sea, and even then they kept missing each other.
There was so much to do at Sharpington with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, the well maintained gardens, a pristine promenade, theatre and illuminations, plus all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.
Mark and Shaun were staying up at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park for the week and they were having a great time but the Sharpington Fun Park was a particular favourite.
It was the first purpose built amusement park to open in Britain, which was a proud boast for the locals.
The Fun Park had an assortment of rides, like the Rotor and the Wild Mouse, The Cyclone and the Morehouse Galloper, all very tame compared to a 21st century roller coaster but it was still fun and still popular with visitors and locals a like.
And on three occasions the Potters brothers and the Larsen twins were within ten feet of each other but were looking the other way.
The twins were only there for the day and went with their parents but as soon as they arrived they went their separate ways for the morning but met up for lunch on the seafront then they separated again until it was time for a visit to Bizzoni’s Ice Cream Parlour.
It was after ice creams that they spent an hour or so as a family and ended up on the crazy Golf and that was the moment while Glen Larsen was trying to putt through a moving windmill and into a clowns mouth that Dee and Elsa spotted the devastatingly good looking Potter brothers on the adjacent hole.
Mark and Shaun weren’t identical but they were clearly brothers and the girls thought they were absolutely gorgeous and as a result from that moment on they had their caps well and truly set.
There was never a moment’s argument as to who liked which brother they were instantly attracted to one each, which was great for their relationship.
The problem was they had never before been interested enough in a boy to make an approach and although they were instantly smitten they had absolutely no idea how to do anything about it.
They had never had to know because boys had always chased them and they just had to choose a suitable candidate and bat away the rest, they had never had to do any chasing themselves.
They were fidgeting uneasily as they both tried to think what to do because the Potters were two holes ahead of them and would be gone to God knew where before they were done.
And then just before it looked like the gorgeous young men were a lost cause they were rescued at the last possible second by of all people their mother Shelley.
“Hello boys” she said “What a coincidence running into you all the way over here”
The girls looked on with open mouths as their mum chatted casually with the boys and they chatted back and the girls thought they sounded as sexy as they looked.
She introduced them to Glen and then after about five minutes she said
“Oh and these two are Dee and Elsa”
“Hi” Mark said and in response Dee blushed and Elsa giggled
(Part 03)
On the drive home from Sharpington Shelley Larson was bombarded with questions from the twins about the Potters, and by the time they got back to Mornington they had extracted every ounce of information about them.
After the first encounter with them at the crazy golf the twins talked about the gorgeous Potter boys constantly, and they heartily approved of the other ones choice, but that was as far as it went because they didn’t know what to do next.
There were a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere road and Dulcets Lane which formed the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and Mark and Shaun Potter lived at number 3 Dulcet Mill Lane with their father Karl Mark and Shaun.
The Potters had only been in the village since April when the company he worked for, Digitize Image Lab, moved to Mornington Field from Northchapel.
It was very opportune timing because he had already decided before he found out about the move that he would move to pastures new so he and the boys could have a fresh start, because they all struggled to come to terms with the loss of their mother and wife, respectively, in the family home they had all shared.
Rose Potter was diagnosed with breast cancer in April of 2014 and finally succumbed to the disease in mid-August.
They had thought that with times healing hand things would return to some form of normality, but it didn’t work out that way and in reality everything in the house was a constant reminder of what they had lost, every stick of furniture, every picture, ornament and memento screamed at them, “she’s gone”, even the wallpaper and carpets joined in the chorus.
So they made the move and were all happy with the way things had turned out.
Mark was the eldest by 2 years, he was also two inches taller and more self-confidence than Shaun.
They were both athletically built with dark curly hair and blue eyes and although they were unaware of it Dee and Elsa had not gone unnoticed by the boys, but then how could they not have noticed them, they were beautiful after all.
But Mark was reluctant to get involved with someone so close to him starting University but he was definitely tempted, but in the end he resolved not to be proactive and just see what happened.
Dee and Elsa were also pleased that they had moved to the Village but they lived at the opposite end from where the girls lived and so it was unlikely that they would bump into each other by accident, so they would have to engineer such meetings.
Dee however wasn’t prepared to go searching, her philosophy was that he knew where she was and he would have to come and get her.
Elsa was having none of that kind of attitude, they had finally met two drop dead gorgeous boys that they both liked and she wasn’t going to sit at home waiting for a knock on the door that might never come.
So it was down to her to engineer a meeting where she could use her charms although in truth she became a stalker and Shaun Potter was her prey.
It was two weeks since the twins met the Potter boys in Sharpington and Dee became increasingly frustrated at the failure of Mark Potter to come knocking on her door.
While Elsa had little more success with her own tactic of stalking Shaun.
She carried a little note book of the times of his comings and goings, where he went and who he met but just when she was about to ambush him, someone would come along and spoil things.
Elsa’s chance to speak to Shaun finally came quite by chance one Sunday Morning as she was walking home after church.
(Part 04)
Elsa’s chance to speak to Shaun finally came quite by chance one Sunday Morning as she was walking home after church, Dee hadn’t gone as she was still sitting at home waiting for prince Charming to call by.
She had left her parents outside St Winifred’s and was walking along the riverside path towards the Old East Mill when Shaun came racing around the corner on his bike, at pace and nearly ran her over.
“Watch it” she said and jumped out of the way and he screeched to a halt
“Sorry Elsa” he said “I didn’t think”
He was in a hurry because he wanted to get to St Winifred before the service was over in order to see her, because that was the one time and place that he knew she would be.
He really liked her and unlike his brother he didn’t want to wait and see, but he had never had a girlfriend and he didn’t really think he stood a chance with her but he knew he had to try before someone else snapped her up.
She looked at his beautiful dark curls spilling down beneath his helmet, his eyes sparkled and his cheeks were ruddy from exertion.
Shaun had one foot on the floor and the other on the pedal and her eyes were fixed on the shape of his thigh and the firmness of his buttock and she was transfixed.
Then he caught her looking and she blushed scarlet and looked away.
“So why are you in such a hurry?” she asked
“Oh no reason” he lied
They then waited in silence hoping the other would speak,
Him fidgeting on the saddle and her shuffling her feet until he said
“Well I’d better get going”
“Oh ok” she said failing to hide her disappointment as he started to pedal away
“Bye” he said and she cursed under her breath, then she breathed in deeply and shouted after him
“Do you want to go to the pictures?”
He braked sharply and dropped the bike and ran back towards her.
“Yes, when?”
“Well, that depends” she said and he looked crestfallen
“On what?” he asked thinking the worst
“On when your brother asks my sister out” she replied and he laughed
“No problem” he retorted
“What are you looking so pleased about?” Mark asked as Shaun walked in the room
“I have a date” he replied
“With who?”
“Elsa Larsen” he said
“Really?” Mark said “I didn’t know you liked her”
“Oh I like her a lot” he said “I like everything about her”
“Really?”
“Yes” Shaun replied
“I feel much the same about her sister” Mark admitted
“Good, because now you have to go and ask her out” Shaun told him
“Alright bossy” he said “I’ll do it later”
“Now” Shaun insisted
“Later”
“You need to do it right now” he said “I don’t want you blowing my chances”
“Ok” he said and headed towards the front door with Shaun right behind him
“Why are you following me?” Mark asked
“To make sure you don’t chicken out” he replied
And that was how after having made the decision to wait to be asked Dee Larsen got her wish and despite his reservations Mark Potter had a girlfriend in the village when he went off to University.
Tuesday, 6 June 2017
Mornington-By-Mere – (74) Sixteen
(Part 01)
The quaint chocolate box English Village of Mornington-By-Mere, was the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a quaint and picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
15 year old Matthew was one of the Smith clan, who were tenants at Smithfield Farm and had been for as long as anyone could remember, and as soon as he finished school he was going to take his place working on the land, and that day had finally come, the school year was over so he was on the way home by the usual route.
He left the Village School and walked towards Church Bridge and proceeded along the riverside path on the Northern Bank of the River Brooke with Mornington Field on his right and Manor Wood across the water on his left.
After the Wood stood the famous Mornington Brewery and immediately before the river changed direction, Dulcets Mill stood, one of the last three remaining Mornington Mills.
At the point the River turned sharply to the right he followed the path that threaded its way through the woods that bordered the western edge of Mornington Field and as he meandered his way along the path he heard a voice behind him.
“Wait for me Matt” it, said, “wait for me”
He turned around but he couldn’t see who it was
“Wait for me” they continued shouting, a little louder this time and then there was a crash as a schoolgirl came running around an oak tree and hurtled straight into him and they both ended up on the floor.
The schoolgirl was young Alexa Newbold
“Ouch” she said rubbing her left knee.
Alexa was a few months older than Matt and she was staying on in full time education and would be going to college followed by University but she wasn’t going to go before she had done what she needed to do.
“Are you ok?” he asked as he helped her to her feet.
“Just scrapped my knee a bit,” she said laughing
“I didn’t think I was that close to you”
She was a very pretty girl, five foot one with Jet-black hair and pale alabaster skin and she lived in Military Row with her family
“Happy birthday by the way” he said suddenly remembering it was her 16th birthday
“Thank you,” she said grinning because she didn’t know that he knew.
But Matt knew everything about her because he loved her and had done for as long as he could remember, but he would never tell her that because she was on a different path to him and as a farmer he wouldn’t be able to offer her anything and he certainly wouldn’t be able to compete with the kind of boys she was going to meet at University.
So he had resigned himself to the fact that she was unattainable.
(Part 02)
Alexa was still wearing her full school uniform consisting of black knee length socks, a black and white plaid skirt, black jacket, white blouse and a plaid tie and her knee was still bleeding so he fished out a hankie from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Use that” he said “that will help for the moment”
Alexa dabbed at the cut and winced as Matt looked for somewhere he could sit her down.
“Come on, come and sit down and I’ll clean it up” he said and directed her to a tree stump a few yards away where he sat her down and then he knelt down in front of her and produced a bottle of water from his bag.
“Are you glad we’ve broken up?” he asked
“Yes and no” she replied
He found her response a little strange but added
“Bad luck having to go to school on your birthday”
“Oh no it wasn’t so bad” she said
“Well Happy birthday sweet sixteen” he said and then he irrigated the wound with water and cleaned it with the hankie
“Ooh” Alexa winced as she sat perched on the tree stump
“Sweet sixteen and never been kissed”
She added and blushed
“You’re joking” he replied looking at her face and she blushed deeper and averted her eyes.
“So what are you doing for your birthday?” he asked by way of changing the subject
“Well Mum and Dad are taking me and to my favourite restaurant in Shallowfield on Saturday night” she said very pleased with herself.
“But I was hoping that today, we could do something together”
“You and me?” he asked in disbelief
“Yes” she replied and reached forward and put a hand on each side of his face before leaning forward and kissing him.
Matt wasn’t expecting that, the kiss came right out of left field it only lasted a few moments and when their lips parted she said
“Now I’m a sweet sixteen who has been kissed”
He gave a heavy sigh then leant into her saying
“Again please”
“Oh yes again” she agreed and their lips met again this time in a longer more languid union and when she broke away he sighed again.
Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that the gorgeous Alexa Newbold would want him, she was beautiful, funny and smart and he was just a farm boy.
He reached into his pocket and took out a small package.
“Here you are birthday girl” he said to her “I have a birthday gift for you”
“I thought I’d just had my present” she said and giggled
“What do you mean?”
“This is the best Birthday present I could possibly have received” she replied and they kissed again.
When the kiss was over she opened the little package to reveal a small embossed box and inside that was a small Gold locket and inside that there was some engraving which read “Sweet sixteen”.
And the moment she read it she threw herself at him and showered him with kisses
“I love it, I love it” she said and hugged him and after a moment or two she said coyly
“Can I have another present?”
“Are you sure you want another one?”
“I think so” She replied
“Well if you’re not bothered” he began “I’ll go and find Mandy Price she won’t turn me down”
“Don’t you dare” she said putting her arms around him “Loose lips can find someone else to snog, you’re mine now”
The quaint chocolate box English Village of Mornington-By-Mere, was the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a quaint and picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
15 year old Matthew was one of the Smith clan, who were tenants at Smithfield Farm and had been for as long as anyone could remember, and as soon as he finished school he was going to take his place working on the land, and that day had finally come, the school year was over so he was on the way home by the usual route.
He left the Village School and walked towards Church Bridge and proceeded along the riverside path on the Northern Bank of the River Brooke with Mornington Field on his right and Manor Wood across the water on his left.
After the Wood stood the famous Mornington Brewery and immediately before the river changed direction, Dulcets Mill stood, one of the last three remaining Mornington Mills.
At the point the River turned sharply to the right he followed the path that threaded its way through the woods that bordered the western edge of Mornington Field and as he meandered his way along the path he heard a voice behind him.
“Wait for me Matt” it, said, “wait for me”
He turned around but he couldn’t see who it was
“Wait for me” they continued shouting, a little louder this time and then there was a crash as a schoolgirl came running around an oak tree and hurtled straight into him and they both ended up on the floor.
The schoolgirl was young Alexa Newbold
“Ouch” she said rubbing her left knee.
Alexa was a few months older than Matt and she was staying on in full time education and would be going to college followed by University but she wasn’t going to go before she had done what she needed to do.
“Are you ok?” he asked as he helped her to her feet.
“Just scrapped my knee a bit,” she said laughing
“I didn’t think I was that close to you”
She was a very pretty girl, five foot one with Jet-black hair and pale alabaster skin and she lived in Military Row with her family
“Happy birthday by the way” he said suddenly remembering it was her 16th birthday
“Thank you,” she said grinning because she didn’t know that he knew.
But Matt knew everything about her because he loved her and had done for as long as he could remember, but he would never tell her that because she was on a different path to him and as a farmer he wouldn’t be able to offer her anything and he certainly wouldn’t be able to compete with the kind of boys she was going to meet at University.
So he had resigned himself to the fact that she was unattainable.
(Part 02)
Alexa was still wearing her full school uniform consisting of black knee length socks, a black and white plaid skirt, black jacket, white blouse and a plaid tie and her knee was still bleeding so he fished out a hankie from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Use that” he said “that will help for the moment”
Alexa dabbed at the cut and winced as Matt looked for somewhere he could sit her down.
“Come on, come and sit down and I’ll clean it up” he said and directed her to a tree stump a few yards away where he sat her down and then he knelt down in front of her and produced a bottle of water from his bag.
“Are you glad we’ve broken up?” he asked
“Yes and no” she replied
He found her response a little strange but added
“Bad luck having to go to school on your birthday”
“Oh no it wasn’t so bad” she said
“Well Happy birthday sweet sixteen” he said and then he irrigated the wound with water and cleaned it with the hankie
“Ooh” Alexa winced as she sat perched on the tree stump
“Sweet sixteen and never been kissed”
She added and blushed
“You’re joking” he replied looking at her face and she blushed deeper and averted her eyes.
“So what are you doing for your birthday?” he asked by way of changing the subject
“Well Mum and Dad are taking me and to my favourite restaurant in Shallowfield on Saturday night” she said very pleased with herself.
“But I was hoping that today, we could do something together”
“You and me?” he asked in disbelief
“Yes” she replied and reached forward and put a hand on each side of his face before leaning forward and kissing him.
Matt wasn’t expecting that, the kiss came right out of left field it only lasted a few moments and when their lips parted she said
“Now I’m a sweet sixteen who has been kissed”
He gave a heavy sigh then leant into her saying
“Again please”
“Oh yes again” she agreed and their lips met again this time in a longer more languid union and when she broke away he sighed again.
Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that the gorgeous Alexa Newbold would want him, she was beautiful, funny and smart and he was just a farm boy.
He reached into his pocket and took out a small package.
“Here you are birthday girl” he said to her “I have a birthday gift for you”
“I thought I’d just had my present” she said and giggled
“What do you mean?”
“This is the best Birthday present I could possibly have received” she replied and they kissed again.
When the kiss was over she opened the little package to reveal a small embossed box and inside that was a small Gold locket and inside that there was some engraving which read “Sweet sixteen”.
And the moment she read it she threw herself at him and showered him with kisses
“I love it, I love it” she said and hugged him and after a moment or two she said coyly
“Can I have another present?”
“Are you sure you want another one?”
“I think so” She replied
“Well if you’re not bothered” he began “I’ll go and find Mandy Price she won’t turn me down”
“Don’t you dare” she said putting her arms around him “Loose lips can find someone else to snog, you’re mine now”
Downshire Diary – (72) French Cuisine
Danny Popkin was not looking forward to another boring business dinner the latest in a long line of such wasted evenings and at 35 years of age he was really looking for something more in his social life, in fact he was actually looking for more in his life.
Certainly something more than just another fabulous restaurant for yet another expensive meal or as they say another “dining experience” at someone else’s expense.
He pulled up outside the latest restaurant, this time The Runcible Spoon in Purplemere, a place of great renown, but he still had a feeling of dread, despite the great venue, wonderful cuisine and the great ambience, it was just as he expected, more boring business talk, more boring company, basically more people who like him didn’t really want to be there.
But after the pre-dinner drinks, quelle surprise, out of the blue and quite unexpected, une jeune fille, and how pretty she was, la belle fille, Florence Clerembeax, the niece of the financial director from the Paris office, a petite well-tanned girl with huge brown eyes and long hair the colour of burnt caramel.
“Quelle jolie fillee” Jason thought
“Do you mind if she joins us?” her father asked
As if they would mind, a bunch of boring business men having dinner or a bunch of boring business men and a beautiful young woman having dinner.
No contest as far as Jason was concerned because he was instantly besotted by the beautiful young woman.
When the waiter came, the American next to him ordered a steak, well done
“And for you monsieur?” he asked Jason
“I’ll take her, any way she comes” he said in his head but when he looked across at Florence she was smiling as if she knew what impure thoughts filled his head about a girl 12 years younger than him.
“I’ll have the same” he said ordering something he didn’t really want, to cover his embarrassment over his impure thoughts about what he did want.
His thoughts extended to every aspect of her, and what she would look like as he peeled through the layers of silk, satin and lace.
He wanted her to tantalise all his senses, sight, sound, smell, touch and taste,
His sight had already been fed but he wanted more, her sound was sweet and her accent seductive, the smell of her perfumed scented skin was exotic and intoxicating, and touch which had been restricted to a hand shake and so he felt her electrifying touch on his skin but the taste was as yet unfulfilled.
But all through the meal knowing looks were exchanged and every time their eyes met he felt like a schoolboy again, and still he was convinced she could read his mind.
They laughed and joked and pretty much ignored the rest of the table, but all too soon the evening was over and everyone went their separate ways and Jason was deflated as he got into his taxi.
Until that is he reached his Hotel and sitting in reception of the Worsted Viper Hotel was a smiling Florence.
“How did you kno…” he began but she silenced him with her lips and he finally got the taste of her.
Certainly something more than just another fabulous restaurant for yet another expensive meal or as they say another “dining experience” at someone else’s expense.
He pulled up outside the latest restaurant, this time The Runcible Spoon in Purplemere, a place of great renown, but he still had a feeling of dread, despite the great venue, wonderful cuisine and the great ambience, it was just as he expected, more boring business talk, more boring company, basically more people who like him didn’t really want to be there.
But after the pre-dinner drinks, quelle surprise, out of the blue and quite unexpected, une jeune fille, and how pretty she was, la belle fille, Florence Clerembeax, the niece of the financial director from the Paris office, a petite well-tanned girl with huge brown eyes and long hair the colour of burnt caramel.
“Quelle jolie fillee” Jason thought
“Do you mind if she joins us?” her father asked
As if they would mind, a bunch of boring business men having dinner or a bunch of boring business men and a beautiful young woman having dinner.
No contest as far as Jason was concerned because he was instantly besotted by the beautiful young woman.
When the waiter came, the American next to him ordered a steak, well done
“And for you monsieur?” he asked Jason
“I’ll take her, any way she comes” he said in his head but when he looked across at Florence she was smiling as if she knew what impure thoughts filled his head about a girl 12 years younger than him.
“I’ll have the same” he said ordering something he didn’t really want, to cover his embarrassment over his impure thoughts about what he did want.
His thoughts extended to every aspect of her, and what she would look like as he peeled through the layers of silk, satin and lace.
He wanted her to tantalise all his senses, sight, sound, smell, touch and taste,
His sight had already been fed but he wanted more, her sound was sweet and her accent seductive, the smell of her perfumed scented skin was exotic and intoxicating, and touch which had been restricted to a hand shake and so he felt her electrifying touch on his skin but the taste was as yet unfulfilled.
But all through the meal knowing looks were exchanged and every time their eyes met he felt like a schoolboy again, and still he was convinced she could read his mind.
They laughed and joked and pretty much ignored the rest of the table, but all too soon the evening was over and everyone went their separate ways and Jason was deflated as he got into his taxi.
Until that is he reached his Hotel and sitting in reception of the Worsted Viper Hotel was a smiling Florence.
“How did you kno…” he began but she silenced him with her lips and he finally got the taste of her.
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (72) Francesca’s Garden of Delights
(Part 01)
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.
Such as the time they met at the Clayton Manor Hotel on the night of her sisters 4th wedding.
Which began with him gate crashing the wedding reception and ended with him knocking on the door of Francesca’s door and when he was sure the coast was clear.
“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.
They were still in her bed at 11 am the next morning and would have stayed there all day had she not had to get back for the children.
“That was a masterly piece of planning madam” he said and kissed her as they cuddled under the duvet.
“Do you like all the sneaking around?” She asked
“I like the prize I get for all the sneaking around” he replied
“Do you find it exciting?” Francesca asked
“I suppose so” he said “What about you?”
“I do find it exciting but it’s the anticipation of you that’s the most exciting” she replied
“Why do you ask?” he said
“I need to know if you’d still want me if we didn’t need to sneak” she said and then there was slience
“Are you suggesting we tell everyone?” He asked
“Yes” she said quietly averting her eyes
“I want that more than anything” he replied “I want everyone to know, I want to shout it from the roof tops”
“Really?” she asked with surprise “truly?”
“Don’t you?” he asked and she started to cry
“Whats wrong?” he asked
“I want that too” She sobbed
(Part 02)
Two weeks later, exactly one year to the day after they first met, the long secret affair was no longer a secret as Paul and Francesca told their friends and family.
An announcment which didn’t go down at all well as the news was not well received by anyone.
Her friends, though secretly jelous of her having a toy boy, told her she was behaving foolishly, her family universal condemend her as ridiculous and her ex husband said she was an embarrassment.
Only her sister Adrienne was at all understanding, but she was on her fourth husband and so her judgement regarding relationships was considered iffy at best.
Paul faired little better, his mates all congratulated him for scoring with a milf but told him in no uncertain terms what a dick head he was for dating someone 12 years older than him and someone with children to boot.
His Dad thought he was a bit of a lad and his Mum thought he was digusting.
As a result of the reaction they got, their social circle was severely reduced so they had to be content with each others company, which was no hardship.
But on the plus side Francesca’s children were delighted with the situation and took to Paul imediately and so they became an instant family.
As the months went by and it became self evident that their relationship was not just a passing fad they were gradually accepted, albeit grudgingly, but it was almost a year before they were able to have a weekend to themselves thanks to Francesca’s mum taking the kids for the weekend.
But as luck would have it he had to go into work on Saturday morning, much to their annoyance, but he was expected to be home by two oclock at the latest.
It was a glorious day and very hot, especially for midday but not as hot as he thought the love of his life Francesca was.
He was more than an hour earlier getting to the house than he expected, so he let himself in using his front door key, which not for the first time made him smile.
He was glad he was home early he was looking forward all morning to making love to her and along with his feeling of love he felt immensely proud to be her boyfriend, and wanted to be even more.
He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.
Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.
He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.
(Part 03)
He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.
Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.
He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.
“Whats the matter?” He asked and Francesca jumped and then looked over her shoulder.
“Oh Paul” she exclaimed and got up and hugged him
“Whats wrong sexy?” he asked
“I’m not though” she said hiding her face
“You’re not what?” Paul asked
“I’m not sexy” Francesca said softly
“Well I think you are” he asured her
“Really?” she asked unconvinced still hiding her face
“Really” he replied
“You don’t think I’m dirty?” she asked
“No” he said firmly
“You don’t think that I’m a slutty milf?” Francesca asked
“No, never, why would you even ask that?” he asked and Francesca didn’t reply
“Has someone said something?” he added and she nodded
“Who was it?”
“It doesn’t matter who it was” she replied quietly
“Well screw them whoever it was” he said “because I’m in love with a beautiful woman who just happens to be 12 years older than me and she is the sexiest woman I have ever known, so they will just have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere”
Francesca slowly lifted her head and looked up over her shoulder at him and smiled.
“Hi beautiful” Paul said and gave her a long gentle kiss
“Do you really think I’m sexy?” she asked
“Very sexy” he said and kissed her passionately and when he had finished he asked
“Do you feel sexy yet?”
“Hmmm” she murmured
“I was hoping you would” he said
“What else are you hoping for?” she asked coyly
“Well firstly I would like to make love to you” he said and kissed her again
“I might be agreeable to that” she said
“And then I would like to become your second husband” he said and kissed her mouth.
“What?” she asked
“I would like you to become Mrs Francesca Ingram”
“You want to marry me?” she asked aghast
“Yes, very much” he said “So what’s the answer?”
“Well” she said and as she walked towards the French doors she discarded her bikini, and as she stood on the threshold with her beautiful body on display
“I think we should go upstairs and discuss our engagement” she said and ran inside giggling.
“I take it that’s a yes then” he called as he ran inside after her.
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.
Such as the time they met at the Clayton Manor Hotel on the night of her sisters 4th wedding.
Which began with him gate crashing the wedding reception and ended with him knocking on the door of Francesca’s door and when he was sure the coast was clear.
“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.
They were still in her bed at 11 am the next morning and would have stayed there all day had she not had to get back for the children.
“That was a masterly piece of planning madam” he said and kissed her as they cuddled under the duvet.
“Do you like all the sneaking around?” She asked
“I like the prize I get for all the sneaking around” he replied
“Do you find it exciting?” Francesca asked
“I suppose so” he said “What about you?”
“I do find it exciting but it’s the anticipation of you that’s the most exciting” she replied
“Why do you ask?” he said
“I need to know if you’d still want me if we didn’t need to sneak” she said and then there was slience
“Are you suggesting we tell everyone?” He asked
“Yes” she said quietly averting her eyes
“I want that more than anything” he replied “I want everyone to know, I want to shout it from the roof tops”
“Really?” she asked with surprise “truly?”
“Don’t you?” he asked and she started to cry
“Whats wrong?” he asked
“I want that too” She sobbed
(Part 02)
Two weeks later, exactly one year to the day after they first met, the long secret affair was no longer a secret as Paul and Francesca told their friends and family.
An announcment which didn’t go down at all well as the news was not well received by anyone.
Her friends, though secretly jelous of her having a toy boy, told her she was behaving foolishly, her family universal condemend her as ridiculous and her ex husband said she was an embarrassment.
Only her sister Adrienne was at all understanding, but she was on her fourth husband and so her judgement regarding relationships was considered iffy at best.
Paul faired little better, his mates all congratulated him for scoring with a milf but told him in no uncertain terms what a dick head he was for dating someone 12 years older than him and someone with children to boot.
His Dad thought he was a bit of a lad and his Mum thought he was digusting.
As a result of the reaction they got, their social circle was severely reduced so they had to be content with each others company, which was no hardship.
But on the plus side Francesca’s children were delighted with the situation and took to Paul imediately and so they became an instant family.
As the months went by and it became self evident that their relationship was not just a passing fad they were gradually accepted, albeit grudgingly, but it was almost a year before they were able to have a weekend to themselves thanks to Francesca’s mum taking the kids for the weekend.
But as luck would have it he had to go into work on Saturday morning, much to their annoyance, but he was expected to be home by two oclock at the latest.
It was a glorious day and very hot, especially for midday but not as hot as he thought the love of his life Francesca was.
He was more than an hour earlier getting to the house than he expected, so he let himself in using his front door key, which not for the first time made him smile.
He was glad he was home early he was looking forward all morning to making love to her and along with his feeling of love he felt immensely proud to be her boyfriend, and wanted to be even more.
He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.
Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.
He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.
(Part 03)
He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.
Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.
He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.
“Whats the matter?” He asked and Francesca jumped and then looked over her shoulder.
“Oh Paul” she exclaimed and got up and hugged him
“Whats wrong sexy?” he asked
“I’m not though” she said hiding her face
“You’re not what?” Paul asked
“I’m not sexy” Francesca said softly
“Well I think you are” he asured her
“Really?” she asked unconvinced still hiding her face
“Really” he replied
“You don’t think I’m dirty?” she asked
“No” he said firmly
“You don’t think that I’m a slutty milf?” Francesca asked
“No, never, why would you even ask that?” he asked and Francesca didn’t reply
“Has someone said something?” he added and she nodded
“Who was it?”
“It doesn’t matter who it was” she replied quietly
“Well screw them whoever it was” he said “because I’m in love with a beautiful woman who just happens to be 12 years older than me and she is the sexiest woman I have ever known, so they will just have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere”
Francesca slowly lifted her head and looked up over her shoulder at him and smiled.
“Hi beautiful” Paul said and gave her a long gentle kiss
“Do you really think I’m sexy?” she asked
“Very sexy” he said and kissed her passionately and when he had finished he asked
“Do you feel sexy yet?”
“Hmmm” she murmured
“I was hoping you would” he said
“What else are you hoping for?” she asked coyly
“Well firstly I would like to make love to you” he said and kissed her again
“I might be agreeable to that” she said
“And then I would like to become your second husband” he said and kissed her mouth.
“What?” she asked
“I would like you to become Mrs Francesca Ingram”
“You want to marry me?” she asked aghast
“Yes, very much” he said “So what’s the answer?”
“Well” she said and as she walked towards the French doors she discarded her bikini, and as she stood on the threshold with her beautiful body on display
“I think we should go upstairs and discuss our engagement” she said and ran inside giggling.
“I take it that’s a yes then” he called as he ran inside after her.
Monday, 5 June 2017
Mornington-By-Mere – (73) R and R
(Part 01)
The Varney’s lived in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
Which was a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
He lived and worked up at Mornington Field which had once been an RAF base but had been converted into a mixture of commercial and residential units.
They lived in one of the Cottages in Dulcet Mill Lane, number 5, in the part of the Village known as Manorside and they had lived there together all of their married life.
70 year old George was employed at the Mornington Brewery before he retired while his wife Tracey was a stay at home mum, raising their six children.
They were obviously all grown up now and most of them had children of their own and were now in every corner of Downshire.
There youngest was Harry who was a civil engineer and he had been working away in Oman for six months and had returned to the UK to catch his breath and recharge his batteries before he returned to Muscat for his next 6 month stint away.
His home was in Abbottsford which at the time was having some major renovations doing to it so it wasn’t the most conducive location for rest and recuperation so he planned to stay at his parents’ house while they were away in Portugal for a couple of weeks so he would have the house to himself which was perfect for what he had in mind which was nothing.
He was completely knackered and was understandably looking forward to a good few days of doing nothing very much at all before his friends realised he was back in Downshire and an endless round of frenetic activity of sports bars and long boozy lunches, clubbing and the pursuit of gratuitous sex began.
But everyone knows the saying about the “best laid plans”, they are absolutely pointless when fate takes a hand.
Things began to go wrong at the break of day on his first night in Mornington, when a crack of thunder almost blew him out of bed, and then the storm rumbled round for hours after that, making sleep nearly impossible, he would just drift off into slumber and then CRASH and he was wide awake again, then things would calm down and he would begin to dose and then CRASH and his eyes were wide open once more.
He gave up after the 9th or 10th time and got up and went downstairs for coffee.
The storm raged on for another hour or so but when it finally petered out he decided not to go back to bed and pottered around the house instead, spending the first few hours of his well-earned respite doing housework.
He had been home for less than 24hrs and couldn’t believe how much mess he had made.
About midmorning the sun came out so he thought he might as well take a walk down to the Old Mill, from where he could make his presence known to his friends, so Harry went upstairs to shower and shave.
He arrived back downstairs half an hour later and had just picked up his keys when something in the garden caught his eye, just on the edge of the patio and the something was bent over a wheelbarrow.
(Part 02)
He arrived back downstairs after his shower and had just picked up his keys when something in the garden caught his eye, just on the edge of the patio and the something was bent over a wheelbarrow.
“Very nice” he said to himself as he took advantage of the view up her skirt.
“Oh very nice indeed” he said as to his absolute delight she reached for something at the other end of the barrow and in an effort to prevent herself overbalancing her left leg shot out sideways and the resulting rearrangement of her buttocks caused her left cheek to become completely exposed as the knicker leg rolled between her fleshy cheeks so he put his keys down on the table and sat in the conservatory to get a better look.
To his enjoyment the girl stayed bent over the barrow for a minute or so with one naked buttock on show and then she stood up and after ungloving her hand she lifted her skirt and slowly extracted her knickers from her bum.
When she was stood up he could see she was quite tall with long chestnut hair but other than that there was no clue as to her identity.
It wasn’t anyone he knew, he was certain of that.
The mystery gardener then walked to the side of the wheelbarrow and leant over it again, this time presenting him with a side view of her.
The thick chestnut hair obscured her face but then he wasn’t really looking at her face as her rather large frontage fell forward and filled her top and offered him a tantalizing taster through the armhole of her vest top.
He thought for a moment that apart from her work boots, socks and gloves, the rest of her apparel wasn’t really vocation appropriate, a vest top, short skirt and impractical underwear, not that he was complaining, he was just enjoying the show.
Which was far more enticing than any floor show his mates might have dragged him to.
He stared at every inch of the horny gardener except for her face but he was beginning not to care about that, which was the point that she stood up and turned towards him and smiled and he did know her, it was Verity Lamb, his first ever girlfriend, not that she had looked as she did at that precise moment back then, when they were at school together twenty years earlier.
He stood up and opened the door and walked toward her.
“Hi Verity” he said “what are you doing here?”
“This is what I do” she replied “I’m a gardener by profession”
“You’re not dressed like a professional gardener” he retorted
“It’s my day off”
“What?” he asked rather confusedly
“Your mum told me you were going to be home alone while they were away” she said as she walked towards him
“So I thought I’d come round and get you interested in the gardener”
Harry said nothing but swallowed hard and then Verity added
“I’m thinking I succeeded”
“Definitely” he replied
“Well are you going to invite me in?” she said and kissed him “or do I have to do all the work”
“Well put like that” he said “come in”
And led her by the hand inside and there they stayed as he spent the first three days of his R&R with the buxom gardener doing everything but rest and relax.
The Varney’s lived in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
Which was a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
He lived and worked up at Mornington Field which had once been an RAF base but had been converted into a mixture of commercial and residential units.
They lived in one of the Cottages in Dulcet Mill Lane, number 5, in the part of the Village known as Manorside and they had lived there together all of their married life.
70 year old George was employed at the Mornington Brewery before he retired while his wife Tracey was a stay at home mum, raising their six children.
They were obviously all grown up now and most of them had children of their own and were now in every corner of Downshire.
There youngest was Harry who was a civil engineer and he had been working away in Oman for six months and had returned to the UK to catch his breath and recharge his batteries before he returned to Muscat for his next 6 month stint away.
His home was in Abbottsford which at the time was having some major renovations doing to it so it wasn’t the most conducive location for rest and recuperation so he planned to stay at his parents’ house while they were away in Portugal for a couple of weeks so he would have the house to himself which was perfect for what he had in mind which was nothing.
He was completely knackered and was understandably looking forward to a good few days of doing nothing very much at all before his friends realised he was back in Downshire and an endless round of frenetic activity of sports bars and long boozy lunches, clubbing and the pursuit of gratuitous sex began.
But everyone knows the saying about the “best laid plans”, they are absolutely pointless when fate takes a hand.
Things began to go wrong at the break of day on his first night in Mornington, when a crack of thunder almost blew him out of bed, and then the storm rumbled round for hours after that, making sleep nearly impossible, he would just drift off into slumber and then CRASH and he was wide awake again, then things would calm down and he would begin to dose and then CRASH and his eyes were wide open once more.
He gave up after the 9th or 10th time and got up and went downstairs for coffee.
The storm raged on for another hour or so but when it finally petered out he decided not to go back to bed and pottered around the house instead, spending the first few hours of his well-earned respite doing housework.
He had been home for less than 24hrs and couldn’t believe how much mess he had made.
About midmorning the sun came out so he thought he might as well take a walk down to the Old Mill, from where he could make his presence known to his friends, so Harry went upstairs to shower and shave.
He arrived back downstairs half an hour later and had just picked up his keys when something in the garden caught his eye, just on the edge of the patio and the something was bent over a wheelbarrow.
(Part 02)
He arrived back downstairs after his shower and had just picked up his keys when something in the garden caught his eye, just on the edge of the patio and the something was bent over a wheelbarrow.
“Very nice” he said to himself as he took advantage of the view up her skirt.
“Oh very nice indeed” he said as to his absolute delight she reached for something at the other end of the barrow and in an effort to prevent herself overbalancing her left leg shot out sideways and the resulting rearrangement of her buttocks caused her left cheek to become completely exposed as the knicker leg rolled between her fleshy cheeks so he put his keys down on the table and sat in the conservatory to get a better look.
To his enjoyment the girl stayed bent over the barrow for a minute or so with one naked buttock on show and then she stood up and after ungloving her hand she lifted her skirt and slowly extracted her knickers from her bum.
When she was stood up he could see she was quite tall with long chestnut hair but other than that there was no clue as to her identity.
It wasn’t anyone he knew, he was certain of that.
The mystery gardener then walked to the side of the wheelbarrow and leant over it again, this time presenting him with a side view of her.
The thick chestnut hair obscured her face but then he wasn’t really looking at her face as her rather large frontage fell forward and filled her top and offered him a tantalizing taster through the armhole of her vest top.
He thought for a moment that apart from her work boots, socks and gloves, the rest of her apparel wasn’t really vocation appropriate, a vest top, short skirt and impractical underwear, not that he was complaining, he was just enjoying the show.
Which was far more enticing than any floor show his mates might have dragged him to.
He stared at every inch of the horny gardener except for her face but he was beginning not to care about that, which was the point that she stood up and turned towards him and smiled and he did know her, it was Verity Lamb, his first ever girlfriend, not that she had looked as she did at that precise moment back then, when they were at school together twenty years earlier.
He stood up and opened the door and walked toward her.
“Hi Verity” he said “what are you doing here?”
“This is what I do” she replied “I’m a gardener by profession”
“You’re not dressed like a professional gardener” he retorted
“It’s my day off”
“What?” he asked rather confusedly
“Your mum told me you were going to be home alone while they were away” she said as she walked towards him
“So I thought I’d come round and get you interested in the gardener”
Harry said nothing but swallowed hard and then Verity added
“I’m thinking I succeeded”
“Definitely” he replied
“Well are you going to invite me in?” she said and kissed him “or do I have to do all the work”
“Well put like that” he said “come in”
And led her by the hand inside and there they stayed as he spent the first three days of his R&R with the buxom gardener doing everything but rest and relax.
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (75) The Solicitor’s Receptionist at Lunch
Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles were the firm of Shallowfield Solicitors handling the disposition of Phil Marlow’s late father’s estate which turned out to be quite protracted.
It was on the occasion of Phil Marlow’s first meeting with his Solicitor Linda Baxter that he first saw the object of his affections.
And on that first visit he gazed lustily down her top at the quite pleasing vista restrained in a pink satin bra.
Which he thought was a delightful surprise because her outer garments were very unremarkable, and when she realized he was staring down her top she quickly covered herself up and let out a rather disgusted exclamation, but then she smiled at him and blushed.
He may have thought her a straight laced prude, but he liked that, it had always turned him on, partly because of the challenge but more often than not because they turned out to be less straight laced beneath the façade.
So he returned her smile and asked
“Do you have anything with the address and phone number on?”
“Oh yes” she replied eagerly “I could give you one of my cards”
“Thank you….”
“Catherine” she said “Catherine Kimber”
“Thank you Catherine”
He wasn’t sure if he would ever call her but he had learned to keep his options open.
Phil thought that with regular visits to the offices he would get numerous opportunities to speak with her, but alas no.
And that was why he was grumpy because he had concluded his business with Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, and he hadn’t asked her and nor had he phoned her.
But eventually he plucked up the courage and he phoned the Solicitors
“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”
“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”
The long awaited first date was a great success and several more followed and never disappointed but after each successive date he was left wanting more.
So when the want of seeing her became too much to bear he decided to go and surprise her at the office on Friday lunchtime even though he was seeing her that night anyway.
Once he reached the building he went upstairs to the front office but as he reached reception Catherine’s desk was unmanned and he thought he wouldn’t be going to see her after all.
Which was a shame because he’d really looked forward to surprising her.
“Oh well another time” he said to himself and headed back towards the door which was when he saw her at the other end of the corridor, she hadn’t seen him as she was reading a document as she walked.
He had to think quickly so he opened the disabled toilet door and stepped in and waited until she was passing
“Where are you going?” he asked as he pulled her into the toilet and quickly closed the door and in response she threw herself into his arms.
“Are you here to rob me or ravish me?”
“I think you already know the answer to that” he replied and kissed her
“Have you got long?” he asked between kisses
“I’m on my lunch break” she replied
“Good what would you like for lunch then?”
“You” she replied and began kissing him
After a prolonged kiss she said
“That was the best lunch ever”
“Back to work now then” he suggested
“And look forward to dinner” Catherine added
So they reluctantly said goodbye but he was waiting for her when she finished work and they went for an early dinner after which she took him home and kept him there until Monday morning.
It was on the occasion of Phil Marlow’s first meeting with his Solicitor Linda Baxter that he first saw the object of his affections.
And on that first visit he gazed lustily down her top at the quite pleasing vista restrained in a pink satin bra.
Which he thought was a delightful surprise because her outer garments were very unremarkable, and when she realized he was staring down her top she quickly covered herself up and let out a rather disgusted exclamation, but then she smiled at him and blushed.
He may have thought her a straight laced prude, but he liked that, it had always turned him on, partly because of the challenge but more often than not because they turned out to be less straight laced beneath the façade.
So he returned her smile and asked
“Do you have anything with the address and phone number on?”
“Oh yes” she replied eagerly “I could give you one of my cards”
“Thank you….”
“Catherine” she said “Catherine Kimber”
“Thank you Catherine”
He wasn’t sure if he would ever call her but he had learned to keep his options open.
Phil thought that with regular visits to the offices he would get numerous opportunities to speak with her, but alas no.
And that was why he was grumpy because he had concluded his business with Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, and he hadn’t asked her and nor had he phoned her.
But eventually he plucked up the courage and he phoned the Solicitors
“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”
“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”
The long awaited first date was a great success and several more followed and never disappointed but after each successive date he was left wanting more.
So when the want of seeing her became too much to bear he decided to go and surprise her at the office on Friday lunchtime even though he was seeing her that night anyway.
Once he reached the building he went upstairs to the front office but as he reached reception Catherine’s desk was unmanned and he thought he wouldn’t be going to see her after all.
Which was a shame because he’d really looked forward to surprising her.
“Oh well another time” he said to himself and headed back towards the door which was when he saw her at the other end of the corridor, she hadn’t seen him as she was reading a document as she walked.
He had to think quickly so he opened the disabled toilet door and stepped in and waited until she was passing
“Where are you going?” he asked as he pulled her into the toilet and quickly closed the door and in response she threw herself into his arms.
“Are you here to rob me or ravish me?”
“I think you already know the answer to that” he replied and kissed her
“Have you got long?” he asked between kisses
“I’m on my lunch break” she replied
“Good what would you like for lunch then?”
“You” she replied and began kissing him
After a prolonged kiss she said
“That was the best lunch ever”
“Back to work now then” he suggested
“And look forward to dinner” Catherine added
So they reluctantly said goodbye but he was waiting for her when she finished work and they went for an early dinner after which she took him home and kept him there until Monday morning.
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (74) The Girl with the Flaming Red Hair
John Coe was staying at the Shallowfield Lodge Hotel at the head of Teardrop Lake as he did every summer as the view of the lake from the Hotel was spectacular.
The lake was shaped like a teardrop, hence its name, and surrounded by the ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forrest.
It wasn’t a huge body of water, just over two miles long and almost a mile at its widest point.
It was beautiful and relatively unspoilt which was one of the reasons he chose it.
A lot of fishermen, walkers and avid bird watchers gravitated to the Finchbottom Vale.
Teardrop Lake and the surrounding woodland was privately owned and divided into twelve parcels of land, each with one significant dwelling on it, although there were a number of cottages dotted around the forest as well, some in use and some not.
It was both idyllic and peaceful, and there was little or no noise pollution and although the lake was used there were no speed boats or jet skis, only rowing boats, canoes, dinghies and skiffs.
For John it was the sailing that brought him to the lake, and he had spent the day sailing and as he approached the jetty he saw a figure standing there.
The first thing he noticed was the sun on her red hair, turning it to a blazing fire as it tumbled down onto the white flesh of her shoulders.
The next thing to catch his eye were the pastel shades of her meagre top which struggled to contain the vibrancy of her wondrous breasts.
His eyes then moved on to her naked midriff which tantalized with a glint of sun on an adornment in her navel.
The waistband of her skirt, falsely named as it actually sat more factually on her hips, while the white cotton below encased her rolling buttocks and strong thighs.
Gratifyingly, heaven sent a gust of summer breeze blowing off the lake lifting her skirt and allowing glimpses of her white thighs and pastel underwear.
But as she walked along the jetty the sunlight behind her illuminated her form, more than hinting at the delights contained within the cotton of her skirt and his loins burned for her.
His thoughts about the girl with the flaming red hair had turned to a burning desire which he would soon quench in the coolness of the forest shade because the crimson haired beauty was his wife.
The lake was shaped like a teardrop, hence its name, and surrounded by the ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forrest.
It wasn’t a huge body of water, just over two miles long and almost a mile at its widest point.
It was beautiful and relatively unspoilt which was one of the reasons he chose it.
A lot of fishermen, walkers and avid bird watchers gravitated to the Finchbottom Vale.
Teardrop Lake and the surrounding woodland was privately owned and divided into twelve parcels of land, each with one significant dwelling on it, although there were a number of cottages dotted around the forest as well, some in use and some not.
It was both idyllic and peaceful, and there was little or no noise pollution and although the lake was used there were no speed boats or jet skis, only rowing boats, canoes, dinghies and skiffs.
For John it was the sailing that brought him to the lake, and he had spent the day sailing and as he approached the jetty he saw a figure standing there.
The first thing he noticed was the sun on her red hair, turning it to a blazing fire as it tumbled down onto the white flesh of her shoulders.
The next thing to catch his eye were the pastel shades of her meagre top which struggled to contain the vibrancy of her wondrous breasts.
His eyes then moved on to her naked midriff which tantalized with a glint of sun on an adornment in her navel.
The waistband of her skirt, falsely named as it actually sat more factually on her hips, while the white cotton below encased her rolling buttocks and strong thighs.
Gratifyingly, heaven sent a gust of summer breeze blowing off the lake lifting her skirt and allowing glimpses of her white thighs and pastel underwear.
But as she walked along the jetty the sunlight behind her illuminated her form, more than hinting at the delights contained within the cotton of her skirt and his loins burned for her.
His thoughts about the girl with the flaming red hair had turned to a burning desire which he would soon quench in the coolness of the forest shade because the crimson haired beauty was his wife.
Sunday, 4 June 2017
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (73) Lovely Young Eleanor
The lovely young Eleanor is a pretty young woman, a sweet dusky maiden with luscious skin the shade of molten chocolate with an exotic scent that makes your head spin and your pulse race, leaving you dizzy with delight.
Her sweet Angelic face, is heavenly framed with rich soft curls,
as black as jet and shiny like a raven’s wing.
She looks at you with soulful eyes, warm and inviting which are brown like burnt sugar and possess a hypnotic quality.
Her exquisite nose is small and button like and is the perfect punctuation for her demerara lips, which are softly moist and wear a constant smile playing around them until she unleashes a full-bodied beam and her whole face lights up, bright enough to dazzle a star and making her dark eyes seductively beguiling.
Unintentionally coy and unambiguously sweet, elegant young Eleanor moves gracefully like a cat, while remaining playful as a kitten.
She is delicately limbed and is lithe and lissom with dainty hands and her feet are small like those of a child.
She holds her head high with assurance and confidence on her swan like neck which sits symmetrically on sculptured shoulders atop a sleek slender frame, possessed of a tiny waist and narrow hips.
Her small round buttocks are almost like a boys, and her breasts sit in perfect parity. Unimaginably she seems completely unaware of her allure and oblivious to her beauty and the effect she has on men and women alike.
Sceptical of any appeal, incredible as it may seem she doesn’t see the woman she has become or the woman she has been for many months.
She has come of age and is to all intents and purposes at ease with herself and she is in no hurry to squander her innocence, and her virginity will not be lost casually to someone undeserving.
But perhaps the most wondrous thing about the lovely young Eleanor is that she will not recognise herself from this description of her and she will think it refers to a stranger, which all adds to the wonderful whole that she is and making her all the more desirable for it.
Her sweet Angelic face, is heavenly framed with rich soft curls,
as black as jet and shiny like a raven’s wing.
She looks at you with soulful eyes, warm and inviting which are brown like burnt sugar and possess a hypnotic quality.
Her exquisite nose is small and button like and is the perfect punctuation for her demerara lips, which are softly moist and wear a constant smile playing around them until she unleashes a full-bodied beam and her whole face lights up, bright enough to dazzle a star and making her dark eyes seductively beguiling.
Unintentionally coy and unambiguously sweet, elegant young Eleanor moves gracefully like a cat, while remaining playful as a kitten.
She is delicately limbed and is lithe and lissom with dainty hands and her feet are small like those of a child.
She holds her head high with assurance and confidence on her swan like neck which sits symmetrically on sculptured shoulders atop a sleek slender frame, possessed of a tiny waist and narrow hips.
Her small round buttocks are almost like a boys, and her breasts sit in perfect parity. Unimaginably she seems completely unaware of her allure and oblivious to her beauty and the effect she has on men and women alike.
Sceptical of any appeal, incredible as it may seem she doesn’t see the woman she has become or the woman she has been for many months.
She has come of age and is to all intents and purposes at ease with herself and she is in no hurry to squander her innocence, and her virginity will not be lost casually to someone undeserving.
But perhaps the most wondrous thing about the lovely young Eleanor is that she will not recognise herself from this description of her and she will think it refers to a stranger, which all adds to the wonderful whole that she is and making her all the more desirable for it.
Mornington-By-Mere – (72) The Rustic Stile
The Smiths were tenants at Smithfield Farm and had been since the 19th century and 77 year old Sydney Smith was the head of the Smith Clan at the time Mornington Field was returned back to the ownership of the Mornington Estate but the Smiths didn’t regain the farmland they lost when it was compulsory purchased by the War Department in 1914, but despite that the family had thrived and the farm was providing them with a good living.
Sydney had been married to Mary for 55 years and it all began where the public right of way crossed Smithfield farmland via a Stile on the boundary between the farm and the lane.
The rustic stile still stands sentinel, marking that special place where the fates conspired to ensure that the soul mates should meet.
They were purposely treading opposing paths when they met at that rustic spot.
Sydney Smith was heading back towards the farm from the top twenty acre field with his brother and Mary Watson and a friend were taking a short cut to Apple Gate Farm where they were stable girls.
Mary reached the stile first and Sydney helped her cross by taking her hand, which was small and silken soft, guiding her safely to his side, and despite the presence of each other’s companions, they were to all intents and purposes quite alone, and in those moments when hand touched hand they at once beheld their lives from that point on would be forever altered and were content with that destiny.
The following year they were married in the Village at St Winifred’s Church and every year they celebrated two anniversary’s, the first one was of their wedding and the second anniversary, in many ways more important, was of their first meeting at the rustic stile which stands like a monument to mark the place of alteration, a significant place, a spiritual place often revisited and on such sojourns they would find renewal as the energizing memory of that special life changing moment, And assailing their senses, essentially invigorating, like imbibing the waters from the fountain of youth and their hearts would once again resound with joyousness and sweet moments of romance.
Those excited tingles of loves first passion, when hearts beat faster and desire courses through every fibre, the thrill of blossoming love adding to the strata of their love laid down through all their years together and by returning to the place of loves wondrous inception they keep their love alive, and in equal measure love returns the favour.
Sydney had been married to Mary for 55 years and it all began where the public right of way crossed Smithfield farmland via a Stile on the boundary between the farm and the lane.
The rustic stile still stands sentinel, marking that special place where the fates conspired to ensure that the soul mates should meet.
They were purposely treading opposing paths when they met at that rustic spot.
Sydney Smith was heading back towards the farm from the top twenty acre field with his brother and Mary Watson and a friend were taking a short cut to Apple Gate Farm where they were stable girls.
Mary reached the stile first and Sydney helped her cross by taking her hand, which was small and silken soft, guiding her safely to his side, and despite the presence of each other’s companions, they were to all intents and purposes quite alone, and in those moments when hand touched hand they at once beheld their lives from that point on would be forever altered and were content with that destiny.
The following year they were married in the Village at St Winifred’s Church and every year they celebrated two anniversary’s, the first one was of their wedding and the second anniversary, in many ways more important, was of their first meeting at the rustic stile which stands like a monument to mark the place of alteration, a significant place, a spiritual place often revisited and on such sojourns they would find renewal as the energizing memory of that special life changing moment, And assailing their senses, essentially invigorating, like imbibing the waters from the fountain of youth and their hearts would once again resound with joyousness and sweet moments of romance.
Those excited tingles of loves first passion, when hearts beat faster and desire courses through every fibre, the thrill of blossoming love adding to the strata of their love laid down through all their years together and by returning to the place of loves wondrous inception they keep their love alive, and in equal measure love returns the favour.
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (72) Christmas Party Girls
Steve Danone hated office parties, but at Cooper, Brandon and Holland Accountants in Shallowfield, it was an annual ritual that apparently had to be endured.
The reason he didn’t like them was that all the really nice girls turned out to have no taste in men whatsoever, the plain homely looking ones turned out to be total sluts, the friendly ones got all bitter and depressed and the outgoing bubbly ones just got falling down drunk.
And it was worse that year in particular because there was one girl that he particularly fancied, Carol Herd, and he really didn’t want to see what became of her after a few drinks so he went across the street to the Plough for a couple of hours and when he returned the party was over.
There were one or two revellers remaining, a middle-aged man called David was unconscious at his desk, a girl called Ellie from accounts was throwing up in her waste bin and a plain looking woman from legal called Dorcas was spread-eagled across the conference room table singing “O Holy Night”.
And the only thing about the scene that surprised him was that she was the senior partner.
“Same old, same old” he said as he returned to his office where he found Carol Herd sitting in his leather chair behind his desk.
“I think you are in the wrong office,” he said thinking she was drunk but she stood up and walked towards him
“Oh I don’t believe I am” she said, stone cold sober “Especially now that you’ve finally got here”
The reason he didn’t like them was that all the really nice girls turned out to have no taste in men whatsoever, the plain homely looking ones turned out to be total sluts, the friendly ones got all bitter and depressed and the outgoing bubbly ones just got falling down drunk.
And it was worse that year in particular because there was one girl that he particularly fancied, Carol Herd, and he really didn’t want to see what became of her after a few drinks so he went across the street to the Plough for a couple of hours and when he returned the party was over.
There were one or two revellers remaining, a middle-aged man called David was unconscious at his desk, a girl called Ellie from accounts was throwing up in her waste bin and a plain looking woman from legal called Dorcas was spread-eagled across the conference room table singing “O Holy Night”.
And the only thing about the scene that surprised him was that she was the senior partner.
“Same old, same old” he said as he returned to his office where he found Carol Herd sitting in his leather chair behind his desk.
“I think you are in the wrong office,” he said thinking she was drunk but she stood up and walked towards him
“Oh I don’t believe I am” she said, stone cold sober “Especially now that you’ve finally got here”
Downshire Diary – (71) Heatherlands – Doctor in Love
(Part 01)
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 slightly further south equidistant between Nettlefield and the Oxley’s, in the beautiful village of Heathervale.
When Chris Palmer moved to Nettlefield from Purplemere following a very acrimonious divorce he had sworn off women for good.
But he was a relatively good looking man who was fast approaching his 40th birthday, with a good physique and short sandy hair, greying at the temples and was possessed of piercing blue eyes, so he didn’t go unnoticed.
His reason for moving to Nettlefield in particular, over all the other places he might have chosen either in Downshire or beyond, was the Heatherlands District Health Centre.
It was a large practise that serviced a large area, covering Nettlefield itself, Oxley Green, Heathervale, Oxley Ridge and Tipton and Chris had been fortunate enough to land the job as practice manager and he also found himself a nice little flat in Nettlefield.
The senior partner, and Chris’s boss, at the Health Centre was Dr Clarisse Lowe, a tall statuesque woman who dressed in tweed, with Chestnut hair, a voluptuous figure, lovely long legs and a generous frontage, who was in her mid-forties and was just the kind of woman Chris would have fallen for in his previous life.
Clarisse had been married to Edward Lowe, who had been an eminent surgeon in Downshire, he had also been twenty years older when he married her and he had two children from his first marriage, Josie being the oldest.
The marriage was a happy one but only lasted five years because Edward died suddenly on the Tipton Twelve Trees Golf course after suffering a heart attack.
She had been a widow for 10 years when Chris arrived in her life, her widowhood had left her lonely but also afraid of risking her heart on someone who might end that loneliness
But apart from the fact that she had vowed not to risk her broken heart again she also had instigated a policy at the practise forbidding fraternisation between members of staff, so even if she were so inclined toward Chris she wouldn’t be disposed to go against her own edict.
But the heart wants what the heart wants which was why two people who despite their reluctance to expose themselves to love again and who were very definitely not looking for a relationship, let alone love, found it anyway.
And as a by-product of the loving relationship she scrapped the “No Fraternizing policy” which meant that the surgical gloves were off in regard to work place relationships.
(Part 02)
As a bi-product of the loving relationship she began with Chris, Clarisse scrapped the “No Fraternizing policy” which meant that the surgical gloves were off in regard to work place relationships which was just what the doctor ordered for a lot of the staff, but for doctors
Tony Dark and Denise Guilford it made no difference at all because they had been romantically involved for two years.
The scrapping of the relationship ban should have given them the green light to come out of the closet but the simple truth was that they rather liked the closet, they enjoyed the sneaking around.
When they were around other people at the health centre they were cold and aloof, but in private they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, so whenever an opportunity to enjoy some intimacy presented itself they grabbed it with both hands.
And from the first moment when Denise made the decision to seduce Tony it opened up a whole new world of sensual pleasure, dirty, lustful, naked pleasure.
They both loved the excitement of sneaking around and it made them very aroused and they had to indulge themselves wherever they could.
Sometimes they did it in his house, occasionally in hers, at times they met at hotels and from time to time they did it at the surgery and even on occasion in her car, but never in his as it was far too small.
However as time went on their appetite for spending time together grew exponentially so at The Heatherlands District Health Centre staff Christmas Party which was held at The Foothills Hotel in Oxley Ridge, they made a decision.
They had found it tortuous during the party, not to be able to hold each other’s hand, as they often did when they were together, or dance together on the dancefloor.
They had to maintain the cold and aloof stance that typified the relationship they allowed people to see.
But later that night after he had sneaked into her room they lay huddled beneath the duvet in the afterglow and hatched a plan for their perfect Christmas.
Both Denise and Tony were from the southern end of the county, she was from Abbottsford while he came from Sharpington and they both had family remaining there, and further more they were expected for Christmas.
However as part of their plan they told their respective families that they were on call over Christmas, it was a real shame but they had drawn the short straw so they would have to miss out on the festivities.
They weren’t on call obviously and they were going to have their own festivities and the location they chose was a cottage in the Hamlet of Oxspike on the edge of The Pepperstock Hills National Park.
The reason that the couple chose that particular getaway destination was four fold, firstly they would be alone, second there was no chance of seeing anyone they knew, thirdly the nearest neighbour was half a mile away and lastly because Oxspike was high up in the crags of the park they often got snow up there and Denise and Tony wanted a white Christmas to make everything perfect.
(Part 03)
The Pepperstock Hills National 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 the 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.
Denise and Tony had booked Pike’s Farm Cottage from the 23rd of December to the 27th, so it was a cold miserable Friday morning when Tony picked Denise up in a quiet corner of the car park of the Nettlefield branch of Stephenson Supermarket.
A mixture of rain and sleet peppered the windscreen as they left the car park and headed towards their Christmas getaway, half an hour later the rain and sleet had turned to snow and they were jubilant that they were in for a white Christmas but by the time they reached Oxley Ridge they were in a blizzard and they were less euphoric.
The roads were barely visible in places the higher they climbed and Tony had to drive very gingerly along the exposed stretches, but after ten minutes they got lucky when a Land Rover pulled onto the road ahead of them so he got in its tracks and followed it for the next four miles and then just as they were beginning to feel comfortable, disaster struck twice in quick succession firstly when the Land Rover turned off and then seconds later the car heater stopped working.
So they pressed on with caution as they were less than four miles from their destination but as a result two of those miles took almost an hour to cover.
But when they were within striking distance of the cottage Tony got a bit cocky and lost control on the final bend and spun the car and went arse end first into a snow bank.
He tried to drive out of it but to no avail and resigned himself to the fact that they would have to walk the last half a mile.
“it looks like we’re walking from here” he said and got out of the car and the wind cut through his thin clothing like it wasn’t there but he quickly got his coat on and went to the back of the car where he found the boot staved in and he was unable to open it.
“Shit” he said and had to go in the back of the car to put the seats down to retrieve the luggage.
(Part 04)
He tried to drive out of it but to no avail and resigned himself to the fact that they would have to walk the last half a mile.
“it looks like we’re walking from here” he said and got out of the car and the wind cut through his thin clothing like it wasn’t there but he quickly got his coat on and went to the back of the car where he found the boot staved in and he was unable to open it.
“Shit” he said and had to go in the back of the car to put the seats down to retrieve the luggage.
Once he had the bags out he noticed that Denise was still sat in the passenger seat.
He was about to point out to her that he was freezing his nuts off when he noticed she was crying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently and sat in the driver’s seat so he could hug her.
“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you” she said between sobs
“Well I’m not planning on going anywhere” Tony said “Apart from somewhere warm, and I’m planning on taking you with me”
“But what if you’d been killed? How would I live without you in my life?” she asked and cried again
After he had reassured her that he was never going to leave her they gathered their bags together and made the short but nonetheless difficult walk to Pike’s Farm Cottage.
They were very cold by the time they got there but Tony had to just drop his bags and immediately do a return trip to get the rest of the bags.
“Be careful” Denise said and held him very tightly
“I’ll be fine honey” he said “put the kettle on and I’ll be back before it’s boiled”
It was half an hour before he returned and not only had she boiled the kettle but she had lit the wood burner, had the water heater working as well as having some tinned soup warming on the hob.
“Thank God” she exclaimed and hugged him “I was beginning to get worried”
The reason for her concern was that the wind had strengthened while he was gone and walking in thick snow while being battered by a howling wind meant that he made slow progress.
“Are you ok?” she asked
“Ccccold” He said through chattering teeth
“Come on” she ordered “we need to warm you up”
The cottage wasn’t much warmer than it was when they first arrived but the wood burner was giving off some significant warmth so she steered him over to that and left him there while she checked on the status of the hot water.
She went into the kitchen and the indicator light on the water heater told her they had a full tank, so she took the soup off the hob, and then went to the bathroom and turned on the taps.
(Part 05)
She went into the kitchen and the indicator light on the water heater told her they had a full tank, so she took the soup off the hob, and then went to the bathroom and turned on the taps.
When she returned to the little sitting room he was still stood in front of the fire and he had steam rising from his legs and he was still shivering.
“Ok let’s go” she said and took him from the sitting room, through the hall and upstairs to the bathroom.
Once inside the steamy bathroom she turned towards him and said
“Right, get those wet clothes off”
He tried to comply but he couldn’t feel his fingers as he struggled with the buttons.
So Denise had to undress him, normally a rather enjoyable activity, but this time it was rather less so.
“What on earth were you thinking?” she barked as she undid his shirt “you silly man”
He didn’t respond, as the chattering of his teeth appeared to be worsening.
“You could have died out there,” she continued pulling down his trousers and pants
“You could have died” she repeated and smacked his bare bum cheek
“Ok get in”
But he didn’t do as she instructed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked
“Yyyyou tttoooo” he stuttered
“Ok” she said “you get in and I’ll get the towels”
“How are you feeling now?” she asked as they both lay in the foamy water
“Much better” he replied
“Good” she said “Because I’m not ready to live without you”
“There’s no chance of that” he said and kissed her neck
“I think it’s time to get out now” she said and stood up, then she stepped out of the bath and wrapped towels around herself
“Let’s get you on your feet” she said and reached down
“It’s ok I can manage” Tony said and stood up but Denise was on hand to help him if he needed it and when he was out she immediately festooned him with towels.
She was very attentive to him and when she had finished patting him dry he sat down on the toilet and pulled her onto his lap.
It was about 8 pm and Denise was sitting on Tony’s lap wrapped in bath sheets and his arms when she said.
“We need to get moving before you get cold again”
“Do we have to move?” he whined, “I’m cosy”
“Yes” she said curtly “we need to eat something hot and then we can get cosy in bed”
Tony and Denise quickly got dressed and went downstairs and ate the soup she had prepared and then they went upstairs to bed but barely a word passed between them as they got themselves ready and got beneath the duvet.
“You’re very quiet” she observed as the cuddled up
“That’s because I’m thinking” he replied
“What are you thinking about?” she asked with foreboding, had she overdone the concern? Had she mothered him or smothered him.
“I was just thinking how lucky I am that my Christmas wish has been granted”
“What Christmas wish?”
“I wished that there was more to our relationship than just sex” he replied “and today I found out that there was”
Denise gasped when he said the words and then asked
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes” he replied
“That’s what I wished for too” she said
“I love you Dr Guilford”
“And I love you” Denise said
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 slightly further south equidistant between Nettlefield and the Oxley’s, in the beautiful village of Heathervale.
When Chris Palmer moved to Nettlefield from Purplemere following a very acrimonious divorce he had sworn off women for good.
But he was a relatively good looking man who was fast approaching his 40th birthday, with a good physique and short sandy hair, greying at the temples and was possessed of piercing blue eyes, so he didn’t go unnoticed.
His reason for moving to Nettlefield in particular, over all the other places he might have chosen either in Downshire or beyond, was the Heatherlands District Health Centre.
It was a large practise that serviced a large area, covering Nettlefield itself, Oxley Green, Heathervale, Oxley Ridge and Tipton and Chris had been fortunate enough to land the job as practice manager and he also found himself a nice little flat in Nettlefield.
The senior partner, and Chris’s boss, at the Health Centre was Dr Clarisse Lowe, a tall statuesque woman who dressed in tweed, with Chestnut hair, a voluptuous figure, lovely long legs and a generous frontage, who was in her mid-forties and was just the kind of woman Chris would have fallen for in his previous life.
Clarisse had been married to Edward Lowe, who had been an eminent surgeon in Downshire, he had also been twenty years older when he married her and he had two children from his first marriage, Josie being the oldest.
The marriage was a happy one but only lasted five years because Edward died suddenly on the Tipton Twelve Trees Golf course after suffering a heart attack.
She had been a widow for 10 years when Chris arrived in her life, her widowhood had left her lonely but also afraid of risking her heart on someone who might end that loneliness
But apart from the fact that she had vowed not to risk her broken heart again she also had instigated a policy at the practise forbidding fraternisation between members of staff, so even if she were so inclined toward Chris she wouldn’t be disposed to go against her own edict.
But the heart wants what the heart wants which was why two people who despite their reluctance to expose themselves to love again and who were very definitely not looking for a relationship, let alone love, found it anyway.
And as a by-product of the loving relationship she scrapped the “No Fraternizing policy” which meant that the surgical gloves were off in regard to work place relationships.
(Part 02)
As a bi-product of the loving relationship she began with Chris, Clarisse scrapped the “No Fraternizing policy” which meant that the surgical gloves were off in regard to work place relationships which was just what the doctor ordered for a lot of the staff, but for doctors
Tony Dark and Denise Guilford it made no difference at all because they had been romantically involved for two years.
The scrapping of the relationship ban should have given them the green light to come out of the closet but the simple truth was that they rather liked the closet, they enjoyed the sneaking around.
When they were around other people at the health centre they were cold and aloof, but in private they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, so whenever an opportunity to enjoy some intimacy presented itself they grabbed it with both hands.
And from the first moment when Denise made the decision to seduce Tony it opened up a whole new world of sensual pleasure, dirty, lustful, naked pleasure.
They both loved the excitement of sneaking around and it made them very aroused and they had to indulge themselves wherever they could.
Sometimes they did it in his house, occasionally in hers, at times they met at hotels and from time to time they did it at the surgery and even on occasion in her car, but never in his as it was far too small.
However as time went on their appetite for spending time together grew exponentially so at The Heatherlands District Health Centre staff Christmas Party which was held at The Foothills Hotel in Oxley Ridge, they made a decision.
They had found it tortuous during the party, not to be able to hold each other’s hand, as they often did when they were together, or dance together on the dancefloor.
They had to maintain the cold and aloof stance that typified the relationship they allowed people to see.
But later that night after he had sneaked into her room they lay huddled beneath the duvet in the afterglow and hatched a plan for their perfect Christmas.
Both Denise and Tony were from the southern end of the county, she was from Abbottsford while he came from Sharpington and they both had family remaining there, and further more they were expected for Christmas.
However as part of their plan they told their respective families that they were on call over Christmas, it was a real shame but they had drawn the short straw so they would have to miss out on the festivities.
They weren’t on call obviously and they were going to have their own festivities and the location they chose was a cottage in the Hamlet of Oxspike on the edge of The Pepperstock Hills National Park.
The reason that the couple chose that particular getaway destination was four fold, firstly they would be alone, second there was no chance of seeing anyone they knew, thirdly the nearest neighbour was half a mile away and lastly because Oxspike was high up in the crags of the park they often got snow up there and Denise and Tony wanted a white Christmas to make everything perfect.
(Part 03)
The Pepperstock Hills National 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 the 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.
Denise and Tony had booked Pike’s Farm Cottage from the 23rd of December to the 27th, so it was a cold miserable Friday morning when Tony picked Denise up in a quiet corner of the car park of the Nettlefield branch of Stephenson Supermarket.
A mixture of rain and sleet peppered the windscreen as they left the car park and headed towards their Christmas getaway, half an hour later the rain and sleet had turned to snow and they were jubilant that they were in for a white Christmas but by the time they reached Oxley Ridge they were in a blizzard and they were less euphoric.
The roads were barely visible in places the higher they climbed and Tony had to drive very gingerly along the exposed stretches, but after ten minutes they got lucky when a Land Rover pulled onto the road ahead of them so he got in its tracks and followed it for the next four miles and then just as they were beginning to feel comfortable, disaster struck twice in quick succession firstly when the Land Rover turned off and then seconds later the car heater stopped working.
So they pressed on with caution as they were less than four miles from their destination but as a result two of those miles took almost an hour to cover.
But when they were within striking distance of the cottage Tony got a bit cocky and lost control on the final bend and spun the car and went arse end first into a snow bank.
He tried to drive out of it but to no avail and resigned himself to the fact that they would have to walk the last half a mile.
“it looks like we’re walking from here” he said and got out of the car and the wind cut through his thin clothing like it wasn’t there but he quickly got his coat on and went to the back of the car where he found the boot staved in and he was unable to open it.
“Shit” he said and had to go in the back of the car to put the seats down to retrieve the luggage.
(Part 04)
He tried to drive out of it but to no avail and resigned himself to the fact that they would have to walk the last half a mile.
“it looks like we’re walking from here” he said and got out of the car and the wind cut through his thin clothing like it wasn’t there but he quickly got his coat on and went to the back of the car where he found the boot staved in and he was unable to open it.
“Shit” he said and had to go in the back of the car to put the seats down to retrieve the luggage.
Once he had the bags out he noticed that Denise was still sat in the passenger seat.
He was about to point out to her that he was freezing his nuts off when he noticed she was crying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently and sat in the driver’s seat so he could hug her.
“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you” she said between sobs
“Well I’m not planning on going anywhere” Tony said “Apart from somewhere warm, and I’m planning on taking you with me”
“But what if you’d been killed? How would I live without you in my life?” she asked and cried again
After he had reassured her that he was never going to leave her they gathered their bags together and made the short but nonetheless difficult walk to Pike’s Farm Cottage.
They were very cold by the time they got there but Tony had to just drop his bags and immediately do a return trip to get the rest of the bags.
“Be careful” Denise said and held him very tightly
“I’ll be fine honey” he said “put the kettle on and I’ll be back before it’s boiled”
It was half an hour before he returned and not only had she boiled the kettle but she had lit the wood burner, had the water heater working as well as having some tinned soup warming on the hob.
“Thank God” she exclaimed and hugged him “I was beginning to get worried”
The reason for her concern was that the wind had strengthened while he was gone and walking in thick snow while being battered by a howling wind meant that he made slow progress.
“Are you ok?” she asked
“Ccccold” He said through chattering teeth
“Come on” she ordered “we need to warm you up”
The cottage wasn’t much warmer than it was when they first arrived but the wood burner was giving off some significant warmth so she steered him over to that and left him there while she checked on the status of the hot water.
She went into the kitchen and the indicator light on the water heater told her they had a full tank, so she took the soup off the hob, and then went to the bathroom and turned on the taps.
(Part 05)
She went into the kitchen and the indicator light on the water heater told her they had a full tank, so she took the soup off the hob, and then went to the bathroom and turned on the taps.
When she returned to the little sitting room he was still stood in front of the fire and he had steam rising from his legs and he was still shivering.
“Ok let’s go” she said and took him from the sitting room, through the hall and upstairs to the bathroom.
Once inside the steamy bathroom she turned towards him and said
“Right, get those wet clothes off”
He tried to comply but he couldn’t feel his fingers as he struggled with the buttons.
So Denise had to undress him, normally a rather enjoyable activity, but this time it was rather less so.
“What on earth were you thinking?” she barked as she undid his shirt “you silly man”
He didn’t respond, as the chattering of his teeth appeared to be worsening.
“You could have died out there,” she continued pulling down his trousers and pants
“You could have died” she repeated and smacked his bare bum cheek
“Ok get in”
But he didn’t do as she instructed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked
“Yyyyou tttoooo” he stuttered
“Ok” she said “you get in and I’ll get the towels”
“How are you feeling now?” she asked as they both lay in the foamy water
“Much better” he replied
“Good” she said “Because I’m not ready to live without you”
“There’s no chance of that” he said and kissed her neck
“I think it’s time to get out now” she said and stood up, then she stepped out of the bath and wrapped towels around herself
“Let’s get you on your feet” she said and reached down
“It’s ok I can manage” Tony said and stood up but Denise was on hand to help him if he needed it and when he was out she immediately festooned him with towels.
She was very attentive to him and when she had finished patting him dry he sat down on the toilet and pulled her onto his lap.
It was about 8 pm and Denise was sitting on Tony’s lap wrapped in bath sheets and his arms when she said.
“We need to get moving before you get cold again”
“Do we have to move?” he whined, “I’m cosy”
“Yes” she said curtly “we need to eat something hot and then we can get cosy in bed”
Tony and Denise quickly got dressed and went downstairs and ate the soup she had prepared and then they went upstairs to bed but barely a word passed between them as they got themselves ready and got beneath the duvet.
“You’re very quiet” she observed as the cuddled up
“That’s because I’m thinking” he replied
“What are you thinking about?” she asked with foreboding, had she overdone the concern? Had she mothered him or smothered him.
“I was just thinking how lucky I am that my Christmas wish has been granted”
“What Christmas wish?”
“I wished that there was more to our relationship than just sex” he replied “and today I found out that there was”
Denise gasped when he said the words and then asked
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes” he replied
“That’s what I wished for too” she said
“I love you Dr Guilford”
“And I love you” Denise said
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (71) Sisterly Love Reprised
The affair between Lionel Matthews and his sister in law Claire Tanning began after a party at the Kettlewell Village Hall when she got her sister Paula blind drunk on gin by ten o’clock.
She then offered to help Lionel walk the casualty home where she then seduced him after parading herself in her black underwear.
That was the first of several times that they made love over a two week period and then Claire was racked with guilt and the passion appeared to cool for her.
The Matthews and the Tannings had lived all their married lives in Kettlewell and they were ordinary down to earth people and after twenty years of marriage both couples had reached their middle years without being blessed with children and so their leisure time was more often than not spent together in a variety of ways, restaurants, theatre, cinema, sports and even holidays.
Even after the seduction she and her sister remained close, and as they always had done, the Matthews’s and the Tanning’s spent a lot of their leisure time together.
Lionel played golf every week with Claire’s husband Paul and the sisters did a lot together, shopping, book club, and spa dates to name but a few.
And in addition to that the two couple’s spent two weeks every July in the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park close to Sharpington.
Claire wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea that year because of the sexual tension between her and Lionel but she knew that it was impossible to change their plans without it causing suspicions.
Lionel was of a different opinion, he wanted to make love to her again and by the time they set off to Sharpington 4 months had elapsed since they had shared a bed.
The weather was glorious that summer and every time he looked at Claire, in shorts or a swimsuit or a summer dress he just wanted her more and more.
Paul seemed immune to his wife’s beauty and divided all of his time between golf and sailing.
“What a waste” Lionel thought
But despite his longing for Claire he was not neglecting Paula, they had always had a very healthy sex life, but as exciting as the illicit sex with Claire was there was more to it than that, there was a tenderness that he didn’t have with his wife and she didn’t share with Paul.
And as the week went on he realised it was her that he was missing and not the sex, he had fallen in love with his sister in law.
The next day Lionel’s wife Paula and Claire’s husband Paul left Whitecliff early to go on a diving trip to the Pepperstock Pits, Lionel wasn’t going as he was claustrophobic and nor was Claire as she couldn’t swim, but she was still giving him the cold shoulder so he wasn’t hopeful of spending any time together.
So he just sat outside his caravan drinking coffee and reading the papers and he supposed Claire was doing something similar at hers.
After about an hour he switched his beverage allegiance from coffee to beer and had just sat back down when Claire appeared from behind the adjacent caravan, she didn’t say anything she just stood about twenty feet away and looked at him, then after a moment or two she smiled and went back the way she had come.
Lionel took her behaviour and the smile as an invitation to follow.
As he rounded the corner Claire had paused on the top step to her Caravan, she was still smiling and as he stepped towards her she went inside.
When he reached the top step and went through the open door and closed the door behind him she was stood by the table looking down at the floor.
“I haven’t changed my mind, about the sex I mean” she said
He put his drink down on the side and put his hand on her chin and turned her face towards him.
“It’s not the sex that I miss” he replied and she immediately responded by hugging him and kissing his neck.
Lionel and Claire spent the rest of the day walking hand in hand along Sharpington sands and discussing the future.
There deliberations would have been made all the easier hand they known that their spouses hadn’t been diving that day but had spent the day picnicking at Pepperstock Castle and were themselves walking hand in hand around the ruins.
She then offered to help Lionel walk the casualty home where she then seduced him after parading herself in her black underwear.
That was the first of several times that they made love over a two week period and then Claire was racked with guilt and the passion appeared to cool for her.
The Matthews and the Tannings had lived all their married lives in Kettlewell and they were ordinary down to earth people and after twenty years of marriage both couples had reached their middle years without being blessed with children and so their leisure time was more often than not spent together in a variety of ways, restaurants, theatre, cinema, sports and even holidays.
Even after the seduction she and her sister remained close, and as they always had done, the Matthews’s and the Tanning’s spent a lot of their leisure time together.
Lionel played golf every week with Claire’s husband Paul and the sisters did a lot together, shopping, book club, and spa dates to name but a few.
And in addition to that the two couple’s spent two weeks every July in the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park close to Sharpington.
Claire wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea that year because of the sexual tension between her and Lionel but she knew that it was impossible to change their plans without it causing suspicions.
Lionel was of a different opinion, he wanted to make love to her again and by the time they set off to Sharpington 4 months had elapsed since they had shared a bed.
The weather was glorious that summer and every time he looked at Claire, in shorts or a swimsuit or a summer dress he just wanted her more and more.
Paul seemed immune to his wife’s beauty and divided all of his time between golf and sailing.
“What a waste” Lionel thought
But despite his longing for Claire he was not neglecting Paula, they had always had a very healthy sex life, but as exciting as the illicit sex with Claire was there was more to it than that, there was a tenderness that he didn’t have with his wife and she didn’t share with Paul.
And as the week went on he realised it was her that he was missing and not the sex, he had fallen in love with his sister in law.
The next day Lionel’s wife Paula and Claire’s husband Paul left Whitecliff early to go on a diving trip to the Pepperstock Pits, Lionel wasn’t going as he was claustrophobic and nor was Claire as she couldn’t swim, but she was still giving him the cold shoulder so he wasn’t hopeful of spending any time together.
So he just sat outside his caravan drinking coffee and reading the papers and he supposed Claire was doing something similar at hers.
After about an hour he switched his beverage allegiance from coffee to beer and had just sat back down when Claire appeared from behind the adjacent caravan, she didn’t say anything she just stood about twenty feet away and looked at him, then after a moment or two she smiled and went back the way she had come.
Lionel took her behaviour and the smile as an invitation to follow.
As he rounded the corner Claire had paused on the top step to her Caravan, she was still smiling and as he stepped towards her she went inside.
When he reached the top step and went through the open door and closed the door behind him she was stood by the table looking down at the floor.
“I haven’t changed my mind, about the sex I mean” she said
He put his drink down on the side and put his hand on her chin and turned her face towards him.
“It’s not the sex that I miss” he replied and she immediately responded by hugging him and kissing his neck.
Lionel and Claire spent the rest of the day walking hand in hand along Sharpington sands and discussing the future.
There deliberations would have been made all the easier hand they known that their spouses hadn’t been diving that day but had spent the day picnicking at Pepperstock Castle and were themselves walking hand in hand around the ruins.
Saturday, 3 June 2017
Mornington-By-Mere – (71) Love Letter’s
(Part 01)
Jennifer Bardsley lived in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
Which was a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
She lived and worked up at Mornington Field, which had once been an operational RAF base, which had been converted into a mixture of commercial and residential units.
Jen lived in apartment 1O of Lancaster House, which was converted from the old Officers Mess and she was employed by Paige Turners as did the love of her life, David Norman.
The Normans ran the general store and post office in the village and also staffed the chemist shop for its limited opening times.
David was almost 22 years old, quiet, unassuming, thoughtful and intelligent and totally head of heels in love.
He loved Mornington and he didn’t want to spend his life anywhere else but would have gladly left the village just to be close to Jennifer.
He also quite liked the Grocery trade, and could quite easily have done it full time like his father and Uncles had, but he was also a well-read young man, and as he was an intelligent young man his parents didn’t want to stifle him, so he worked part time in the shop along with working full time up at Paige Turners.
So with him and Jennifer both working up at Paige Turners and both fancying the pants off each other it should have been a shoe in for them to get together, but that was not the case.
David was willing, but Jennifer had reservations and that was because she was 8 years older than he was.
He was a singularly unremarkable looking man to look at, Mr average, ordinary, not unattractive but not attractive either, with pale skin, sandy coloured hair and crystal blue eyes.
On the first day they met Jennifer fell in love with him when she looked into those eyes for the first time.
David was in simple terms one of life’s moths, plain and bland and always drawn to the light but never a source of light.
While Jennifer was the complete opposite, if he was a moth then she was very definitely a butterfly.
She was a strikingly good looking young woman, not supermodel beautiful, but very lovely, tall and voluptuous with luscious black hair and hypnotic blue eyes.
But despite the fact that they were the sun and the moon in each other’s skies and were besotted from the first moment they entered the others orbit Jennifer put the brakes on her feelings and rebuffed David’s advances because she didn’t think that the age difference could be overcome.
She envisaged jibes from colleagues and villagers alike about the cougar and her toy boy.
In reality the vast majority would have just been happy for them and as far as David was concerned she could have been 20 years older than him and he would still have wanted her.
(Part 02)
Jennifer’s job at Paige Turners was as a locator of hard to find books, rare books, first editions and the illusive.
She possessed an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the printed word and knew how to sort the wheat from the chaff and her talents were invaluable to Paige Turners and they were fortunate to have her and they very nearly lost her when the move was made from Finchbottom to Mornington.
She was one of the doubting Thomas’s along with Annette West and Carole Beverley who were unsure about such a move.
But once they saw the village and the standard of the accommodation on offer they all signed on the dotted line without any further hesitation.
Her skill at seeking out the illusive and the obscure meant that Paige Turners were the go to people if you wanted something different, special or that which had eluded you.
So it was in her role as book expert extraordinaire that she made the drive one Monday morning over to Clerembeax Palace which was to the west of Abbeyvale situated between Grace Hill and Bushy Down on the outskirts of the village of Clerembeax St Giles.
The Clerembeax’s arrived in Downshire following the Norman conquests and stayed for a thousand years before the name died out following the death of the reclusive Marcus Clerembeax at the age of 96.
He had lived alone, apart from a butler and a cook, for 50 years after the tragic deaths of his two sons in the hedonistic sixties as a result of an excess of drugs and alcohol.
His wife chose to deal with the loss by taking her own life the day after the funeral while Marcus decided his best course of action was to turn his back on the world and hide himself away.
Following his death in the autumn of 2015 with no direct heirs it took the Clerembeax solicitors, Beaumont, Villiers and Goodfellow, more than a year to find a legitimate Heir to inherit the estate, and that was 50 year old distant cousin Yvonne Labuschagne, and she took up residence in the January of 2017.
She was by profession a masseuse and had worked for many years along with her late husband at the Dancingdean Spa Hotel in Childean.
But with her inheritance she had the means and the venue to open her own Spa at the Clerembeax Palace but the house needed work.
The exterior was fine as the reclusive Marcus had been sensible enough to keep the fabric of the building well maintained.
She wasn’t sure about keeping the word “Palace” in the name because the building didn’t really look very palatial, mainly due to the fact that the original Clerembeax Palace burned down in the 19th century so the present manifestation was in fact a rather gaudy Victorian monstrosity in comparison, though it was not without its charms.
The interior had stood the test of time far less well and needed at the very least a lot of TLC.
The 19th century plumbing certainly wouldn’t stand the rigors of a 21st century spa and the electrics needed a complete rewire.
While the library was both a blessing and a curse, the latter because it took up so much space and the former because it was full of valuable old books which was where Jennifer Bardsley and Paige Turners came in.
(Part 03)
For the new owner of the Clerembeax Palace, Yvonne Labuschagne, the library was both a blessing and a curse, the latter because it took up so much space and the former because it was full of valuable old books which was where Jennifer Bardsley and Paige Turners came in.
Because the revenue from the book sale would go a long way to paying for the refit, or at least that was what Yvonne hoped.
When people were looking for a particular book, or a particular edition and they weren’t readily available they went on the “wish list” and it was that list that she was hoping would be much reduced after her week in Clerembeax.
After first meeting Yvonne and having a brief chat over coffee Jennifer entered the musty library of the once great house with its leather upholstered chairs and oak panelled walls and she instantly felt at home, it was after all her perfect place.
She spent the first hour just casually perusing the packed shelves and just in that short time she had found four titles on the wish list.
She spent the first four days doing a rough appraisal of the library and gave Yvonne a ball park figure of what she might expect at auction from the rarest volumes and she nearly fainted.
But to catalogue the whole library would take a little while longer and she would need reinforcements to complete the task.
The understanding when Paige Turners undertook the appraisal was that they would have first refusal on the contents at the market value but they recommended O’Sullivan and Springthorpe to sell the really valuable items at auction and Paige Turners would take a small commission.
On Friday she decided that before driving home she would spend a couple of hours relaxing in the library so she took a seat in a Chesterfield chair beside the fire and in consummate comfort she began to read.
But her chosen reading was not one of the myriad of leather bound tomes that filled the oak shelves from floor to ceiling, nor a rare first edition, of which there were so many, despite her having her choice of all the literary classics, with their gold embossed titles stamped into the leather, it wasn’t one of those.
In fact Jennifer’s selection wasn’t a book at all it was a collection of letters neatly tied in faded red ribbons and as she began to read them they took her breath away, for each beautifully hand written page was part of a remarkable love story.
The lifelong love story about a most extraordinary couple, whose depth of love was evidenced in every eloquent syllable.
As she read on, their love affair was revealed to her as the most exceptional love story she had ever read or known of.
For this lovingly devoted couple who billed and cooed in copperplate script on every scented page and shared their hearts love and their deepest feelings in unguarded detail, had never met.
“How could that be” she said aloud
She thought their love was evident, in fact it was palpable on every page of their intimate personnel correspondence.
“Poppycock” she exclaimed “that’s not what this is”
Correspondence did not in any form convey the true meaning of their substance.
The tangibility was in their Love letters that was the only way to say it.
Although they had begun to write in the innocence of childhood as mere pen pals, for a project set by School, a chore that had to be done didn’t remain burdensome for long as they had fallen in love.
(Part 04)
The flowery words of an affaire d’amour, echoed in the calligraphy on every page, in each revealing billet doux, more affectionate, romantic and intimate than its passionate predecessor.
She read on as they billed and cooed on every page in each lovingly constructed sentence, heavily laced with innuendo and dripping with sensual longing, subtle yet explicit at the same time and flavoured with delicious nuances, flirtatious and lustful, romantic and affectionate.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she read of a love of such perfect purity, not it had to be said for its pureness of thought but for the absence of any hope of physicality.
For their love was star-crossed, because she was an invalid, bed ridden, stricken with polio as a child, while he was a subject of an enemy state and because their two nations were at war she couldn’t go to him even if her health had permitted.
He in turn was unable to go to her for fear of capture and imprisonment so they could never meet, would never meet.
And as Jennifer read on it was obvious to the reader that they were content in that fact, for their love transcended the physical.
So they made love via their sweet missives, a love that never faded or faltered, in an affair lasting more than forty years, which only ended with his death.
Jennifer stopped to wipe her eyes and then read the final pages which revealed the one and only public acknowledgement of the lifelong love affair.
That acknowledge was in his will when he expressed as his dying wish that her letters, which were so precious to him and cherished during his lifetime, should be returned to his love, so that they at least should lie together.
On receipt of the letter and the news that her cherished lover had left the world she was so broken hearted that she died a week after receiving them and with her death the lovers could be united at last.
Jennifer sat in the library and sobbed her heart out for an hour and when she had finished crying she
Said loudly
“You’re a bloody fool”
She sat upright and wiped her eyes and added
“She couldn’t have the man she loved, and she loved him till she died”
“But you can, and you’ve done nothing about it”
She left the library and marched to her room talking to herself the whole way
“She never met the love of her life and you see the man you love every day”
She quickly threw her things in her bag
“You just fret about what people will think of you, well sod them, sod them all”
“Every day you see him and you’ve done nothing about it”
She repeated then she set her chin defiantly and added
“Well that changes today”
She left Clerembeax Palace without even pausing to say goodbye and drove back to Mornington at breakneck speed and went straight to Paige Turners where without even pausing for breath she marked inside without acknowledging anyone until she spotted David, and she made a beeline for him and ignoring the fact that he was in conversation with a colleague and without speaking she went straight up to him and kissed him passionately in full view of the whole staff.
“Well it’s about time” Paige said and everyone agreed “We should send her away more often”
Jennifer Bardsley lived in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
Which was a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
She lived and worked up at Mornington Field, which had once been an operational RAF base, which had been converted into a mixture of commercial and residential units.
Jen lived in apartment 1O of Lancaster House, which was converted from the old Officers Mess and she was employed by Paige Turners as did the love of her life, David Norman.
The Normans ran the general store and post office in the village and also staffed the chemist shop for its limited opening times.
David was almost 22 years old, quiet, unassuming, thoughtful and intelligent and totally head of heels in love.
He loved Mornington and he didn’t want to spend his life anywhere else but would have gladly left the village just to be close to Jennifer.
He also quite liked the Grocery trade, and could quite easily have done it full time like his father and Uncles had, but he was also a well-read young man, and as he was an intelligent young man his parents didn’t want to stifle him, so he worked part time in the shop along with working full time up at Paige Turners.
So with him and Jennifer both working up at Paige Turners and both fancying the pants off each other it should have been a shoe in for them to get together, but that was not the case.
David was willing, but Jennifer had reservations and that was because she was 8 years older than he was.
He was a singularly unremarkable looking man to look at, Mr average, ordinary, not unattractive but not attractive either, with pale skin, sandy coloured hair and crystal blue eyes.
On the first day they met Jennifer fell in love with him when she looked into those eyes for the first time.
David was in simple terms one of life’s moths, plain and bland and always drawn to the light but never a source of light.
While Jennifer was the complete opposite, if he was a moth then she was very definitely a butterfly.
She was a strikingly good looking young woman, not supermodel beautiful, but very lovely, tall and voluptuous with luscious black hair and hypnotic blue eyes.
But despite the fact that they were the sun and the moon in each other’s skies and were besotted from the first moment they entered the others orbit Jennifer put the brakes on her feelings and rebuffed David’s advances because she didn’t think that the age difference could be overcome.
She envisaged jibes from colleagues and villagers alike about the cougar and her toy boy.
In reality the vast majority would have just been happy for them and as far as David was concerned she could have been 20 years older than him and he would still have wanted her.
(Part 02)
Jennifer’s job at Paige Turners was as a locator of hard to find books, rare books, first editions and the illusive.
She possessed an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the printed word and knew how to sort the wheat from the chaff and her talents were invaluable to Paige Turners and they were fortunate to have her and they very nearly lost her when the move was made from Finchbottom to Mornington.
She was one of the doubting Thomas’s along with Annette West and Carole Beverley who were unsure about such a move.
But once they saw the village and the standard of the accommodation on offer they all signed on the dotted line without any further hesitation.
Her skill at seeking out the illusive and the obscure meant that Paige Turners were the go to people if you wanted something different, special or that which had eluded you.
So it was in her role as book expert extraordinaire that she made the drive one Monday morning over to Clerembeax Palace which was to the west of Abbeyvale situated between Grace Hill and Bushy Down on the outskirts of the village of Clerembeax St Giles.
The Clerembeax’s arrived in Downshire following the Norman conquests and stayed for a thousand years before the name died out following the death of the reclusive Marcus Clerembeax at the age of 96.
He had lived alone, apart from a butler and a cook, for 50 years after the tragic deaths of his two sons in the hedonistic sixties as a result of an excess of drugs and alcohol.
His wife chose to deal with the loss by taking her own life the day after the funeral while Marcus decided his best course of action was to turn his back on the world and hide himself away.
Following his death in the autumn of 2015 with no direct heirs it took the Clerembeax solicitors, Beaumont, Villiers and Goodfellow, more than a year to find a legitimate Heir to inherit the estate, and that was 50 year old distant cousin Yvonne Labuschagne, and she took up residence in the January of 2017.
She was by profession a masseuse and had worked for many years along with her late husband at the Dancingdean Spa Hotel in Childean.
But with her inheritance she had the means and the venue to open her own Spa at the Clerembeax Palace but the house needed work.
The exterior was fine as the reclusive Marcus had been sensible enough to keep the fabric of the building well maintained.
She wasn’t sure about keeping the word “Palace” in the name because the building didn’t really look very palatial, mainly due to the fact that the original Clerembeax Palace burned down in the 19th century so the present manifestation was in fact a rather gaudy Victorian monstrosity in comparison, though it was not without its charms.
The interior had stood the test of time far less well and needed at the very least a lot of TLC.
The 19th century plumbing certainly wouldn’t stand the rigors of a 21st century spa and the electrics needed a complete rewire.
While the library was both a blessing and a curse, the latter because it took up so much space and the former because it was full of valuable old books which was where Jennifer Bardsley and Paige Turners came in.
(Part 03)
For the new owner of the Clerembeax Palace, Yvonne Labuschagne, the library was both a blessing and a curse, the latter because it took up so much space and the former because it was full of valuable old books which was where Jennifer Bardsley and Paige Turners came in.
Because the revenue from the book sale would go a long way to paying for the refit, or at least that was what Yvonne hoped.
When people were looking for a particular book, or a particular edition and they weren’t readily available they went on the “wish list” and it was that list that she was hoping would be much reduced after her week in Clerembeax.
After first meeting Yvonne and having a brief chat over coffee Jennifer entered the musty library of the once great house with its leather upholstered chairs and oak panelled walls and she instantly felt at home, it was after all her perfect place.
She spent the first hour just casually perusing the packed shelves and just in that short time she had found four titles on the wish list.
She spent the first four days doing a rough appraisal of the library and gave Yvonne a ball park figure of what she might expect at auction from the rarest volumes and she nearly fainted.
But to catalogue the whole library would take a little while longer and she would need reinforcements to complete the task.
The understanding when Paige Turners undertook the appraisal was that they would have first refusal on the contents at the market value but they recommended O’Sullivan and Springthorpe to sell the really valuable items at auction and Paige Turners would take a small commission.
On Friday she decided that before driving home she would spend a couple of hours relaxing in the library so she took a seat in a Chesterfield chair beside the fire and in consummate comfort she began to read.
But her chosen reading was not one of the myriad of leather bound tomes that filled the oak shelves from floor to ceiling, nor a rare first edition, of which there were so many, despite her having her choice of all the literary classics, with their gold embossed titles stamped into the leather, it wasn’t one of those.
In fact Jennifer’s selection wasn’t a book at all it was a collection of letters neatly tied in faded red ribbons and as she began to read them they took her breath away, for each beautifully hand written page was part of a remarkable love story.
The lifelong love story about a most extraordinary couple, whose depth of love was evidenced in every eloquent syllable.
As she read on, their love affair was revealed to her as the most exceptional love story she had ever read or known of.
For this lovingly devoted couple who billed and cooed in copperplate script on every scented page and shared their hearts love and their deepest feelings in unguarded detail, had never met.
“How could that be” she said aloud
She thought their love was evident, in fact it was palpable on every page of their intimate personnel correspondence.
“Poppycock” she exclaimed “that’s not what this is”
Correspondence did not in any form convey the true meaning of their substance.
The tangibility was in their Love letters that was the only way to say it.
Although they had begun to write in the innocence of childhood as mere pen pals, for a project set by School, a chore that had to be done didn’t remain burdensome for long as they had fallen in love.
(Part 04)
The flowery words of an affaire d’amour, echoed in the calligraphy on every page, in each revealing billet doux, more affectionate, romantic and intimate than its passionate predecessor.
She read on as they billed and cooed on every page in each lovingly constructed sentence, heavily laced with innuendo and dripping with sensual longing, subtle yet explicit at the same time and flavoured with delicious nuances, flirtatious and lustful, romantic and affectionate.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she read of a love of such perfect purity, not it had to be said for its pureness of thought but for the absence of any hope of physicality.
For their love was star-crossed, because she was an invalid, bed ridden, stricken with polio as a child, while he was a subject of an enemy state and because their two nations were at war she couldn’t go to him even if her health had permitted.
He in turn was unable to go to her for fear of capture and imprisonment so they could never meet, would never meet.
And as Jennifer read on it was obvious to the reader that they were content in that fact, for their love transcended the physical.
So they made love via their sweet missives, a love that never faded or faltered, in an affair lasting more than forty years, which only ended with his death.
Jennifer stopped to wipe her eyes and then read the final pages which revealed the one and only public acknowledgement of the lifelong love affair.
That acknowledge was in his will when he expressed as his dying wish that her letters, which were so precious to him and cherished during his lifetime, should be returned to his love, so that they at least should lie together.
On receipt of the letter and the news that her cherished lover had left the world she was so broken hearted that she died a week after receiving them and with her death the lovers could be united at last.
Jennifer sat in the library and sobbed her heart out for an hour and when she had finished crying she
Said loudly
“You’re a bloody fool”
She sat upright and wiped her eyes and added
“She couldn’t have the man she loved, and she loved him till she died”
“But you can, and you’ve done nothing about it”
She left the library and marched to her room talking to herself the whole way
“She never met the love of her life and you see the man you love every day”
She quickly threw her things in her bag
“You just fret about what people will think of you, well sod them, sod them all”
“Every day you see him and you’ve done nothing about it”
She repeated then she set her chin defiantly and added
“Well that changes today”
She left Clerembeax Palace without even pausing to say goodbye and drove back to Mornington at breakneck speed and went straight to Paige Turners where without even pausing for breath she marked inside without acknowledging anyone until she spotted David, and she made a beeline for him and ignoring the fact that he was in conversation with a colleague and without speaking she went straight up to him and kissed him passionately in full view of the whole staff.
“Well it’s about time” Paige said and everyone agreed “We should send her away more often”
Friday, 2 June 2017
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (71) The Solicitor’s Receptionist
(Part 01)
Phil Marlow woke up exceptionally early and was exceptionally grumpy, which was quite unusual for him, but on this particular morning he was too grumpy for words and he wanted to cheer himself up at the earliest opportunity.
And the reason for his grumpiness was the firm of Shallowfield Solicitors, Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, or more precisely Catherine Kimber the receptionist thereof.
His dealings at the Solicitors were concerning the settling of his late father’s estate which turned out to be quite protracted.
The particular Solicitor he was involved with was Linda Baxter, an attractive woman, tall and slender in her early thirties who wore a tailored business suit and spectacles, and she spoke in posh plummy tones, and had a sexy way of peering over the top of her spectacles which was very alluring.
But as attractive, glamorous, and alluring as she was with her posh voice and magnificent long legs she was way out of his league so he didn’t find her a distraction.
However Phil was on a mission to find a significant other to settle down with once his father’s affairs had been settled and he rather liked the look of the receptionist.
On his first visit he gazed lustily down her top at the quite pleasing vista restrained in a pink satin bra, which was a delightful surprise because her outer garments were very unremarkable, and when she realized he was staring down her top she quickly covered herself up and let out a rather disgusted exclamation, but then she smiled at him and blushed.
He may have thought her a straight laced prude, but he liked that, it had always turned him on, partly because of the challenge but more often than not because they turned out to be less straight laced beneath the façade.
So he returned her smile and asked
“Do you have anything with the address and phone number on?”
“Oh yes” she replied eagerly “I could give you one of my cards”
“Thank you….”
“Catherine” she said “Catherine Kimber”
“Thank you Catherine”
He wasn’t sure if he would ever call her but he had learned to keep his options open.
Phil thought that with regular visits to the offices he would get numerous opportunities to speak with her, but alas no.
And that was why he was grumpy because he had concluded his business with Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, and he hadn’t asked her and nor had he phoned her.
So with the day beginning grumpily, he needed to find the courage to pick up the phone.
There were a number of local girls who had made it perfectly clear that they were willing and able but they weren’t really his type whatever that meant, but they were too pushy for his liking.
Even busty Belinda the gardener, who he had inherited so to speak from his father had given him the green light.
He had even considered going for the soft option of asking his ex-girlfriend Jenna Stimson out, things weren’t so bad with her, she was very nice, he could do a lot worse, and she didn’t want to break up in the first place.
So he took his phone from his pocket and was about to dial her number when he exclaimed
“What the hell are you doing? Her favourite colour is beige”
So without over thinking it he phoned the Solicitors
“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”
“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”
(Part 02)
He had considered going for the soft option of asking his ex-girlfriend Jenna Stimson out, things weren’t so bad with her, she was very nice, he could do a lot worse, and she didn’t want to break up in the first place.
So he took his phone from his pocket and was about to dial her number when he exclaimed
“What the hell are you doing? Her favourite colour is beige”
So without over thinking it he phoned the Solicitors
“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”
“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”
When he reached the building he went upstairs and stopped at the receptionist’s desk, which was deserted, and so he waited.
It was quite late in the day, late enough that almost everyone had left for the day.
He wasn’t there more than a few minutes before the cute blonde receptionist appeared surrounded by a cloud of freshly applied perfume.
Although in truth Phil was more interested in her rather than the perfume that surrounded her, but it was very pleasant nonetheless.
“Hello, you look lovely” he said and moved in for a kiss which he fully expected to be one of those air kiss affairs but Catherine had other ideas.
She planted a kiss straight on his lips and as soon as mouth met mouth her tongue engaged his own in oral combat and they wrapped themselves in a tender embrace.
He had wanted to kiss her the first moment he saw her and she was of similar mind but had thought the kiss would never materialise which was why she took it when it was offered.
“We have to stop” she said “Someone might see”
“Damn I was enjoying that” he said as he watched her adjusting her apparel.
“So was I” she admitted “shall we go”
They went down the stairwell towards the basement carpark but stopped half way down for another kiss which soon reignited passions flame, but when a stairwell door opened and closed either above or below she pushed him away and again straightened her clothes.
“Someone is going to see us” she said nervously
“Let’s go then” Phil said and took her hand and they ran down the stairs to the carpark.
When they reached her car Catherine fumbled for the car keys in her bag and failed.
“Your hands are shaking” he pointed out
“I know that’s your fault” she said and tipped the contents of her bag on the bonnet.
“Why?” he asked innocently
“You know why” she replied “because I thought you were never going to call and you did out of the blue and I just want our first date to be perfect, and I’m so nervous, and I’m going to stay nervous until I get you somewhere where I can kiss you in peace, which isn’t going to happen if I can’t find my bloody keys”
“You don’t need your keys for what I have in mind” Phil said turning towards her.
“Does it involve waiting patiently?” she asked
“No”
“Thank God” she replied and turned her head to kiss him.
Phil Marlow woke up exceptionally early and was exceptionally grumpy, which was quite unusual for him, but on this particular morning he was too grumpy for words and he wanted to cheer himself up at the earliest opportunity.
And the reason for his grumpiness was the firm of Shallowfield Solicitors, Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, or more precisely Catherine Kimber the receptionist thereof.
His dealings at the Solicitors were concerning the settling of his late father’s estate which turned out to be quite protracted.
The particular Solicitor he was involved with was Linda Baxter, an attractive woman, tall and slender in her early thirties who wore a tailored business suit and spectacles, and she spoke in posh plummy tones, and had a sexy way of peering over the top of her spectacles which was very alluring.
But as attractive, glamorous, and alluring as she was with her posh voice and magnificent long legs she was way out of his league so he didn’t find her a distraction.
However Phil was on a mission to find a significant other to settle down with once his father’s affairs had been settled and he rather liked the look of the receptionist.
On his first visit he gazed lustily down her top at the quite pleasing vista restrained in a pink satin bra, which was a delightful surprise because her outer garments were very unremarkable, and when she realized he was staring down her top she quickly covered herself up and let out a rather disgusted exclamation, but then she smiled at him and blushed.
He may have thought her a straight laced prude, but he liked that, it had always turned him on, partly because of the challenge but more often than not because they turned out to be less straight laced beneath the façade.
So he returned her smile and asked
“Do you have anything with the address and phone number on?”
“Oh yes” she replied eagerly “I could give you one of my cards”
“Thank you….”
“Catherine” she said “Catherine Kimber”
“Thank you Catherine”
He wasn’t sure if he would ever call her but he had learned to keep his options open.
Phil thought that with regular visits to the offices he would get numerous opportunities to speak with her, but alas no.
And that was why he was grumpy because he had concluded his business with Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, and he hadn’t asked her and nor had he phoned her.
So with the day beginning grumpily, he needed to find the courage to pick up the phone.
There were a number of local girls who had made it perfectly clear that they were willing and able but they weren’t really his type whatever that meant, but they were too pushy for his liking.
Even busty Belinda the gardener, who he had inherited so to speak from his father had given him the green light.
He had even considered going for the soft option of asking his ex-girlfriend Jenna Stimson out, things weren’t so bad with her, she was very nice, he could do a lot worse, and she didn’t want to break up in the first place.
So he took his phone from his pocket and was about to dial her number when he exclaimed
“What the hell are you doing? Her favourite colour is beige”
So without over thinking it he phoned the Solicitors
“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”
“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”
(Part 02)
He had considered going for the soft option of asking his ex-girlfriend Jenna Stimson out, things weren’t so bad with her, she was very nice, he could do a lot worse, and she didn’t want to break up in the first place.
So he took his phone from his pocket and was about to dial her number when he exclaimed
“What the hell are you doing? Her favourite colour is beige”
So without over thinking it he phoned the Solicitors
“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”
“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”
When he reached the building he went upstairs and stopped at the receptionist’s desk, which was deserted, and so he waited.
It was quite late in the day, late enough that almost everyone had left for the day.
He wasn’t there more than a few minutes before the cute blonde receptionist appeared surrounded by a cloud of freshly applied perfume.
Although in truth Phil was more interested in her rather than the perfume that surrounded her, but it was very pleasant nonetheless.
“Hello, you look lovely” he said and moved in for a kiss which he fully expected to be one of those air kiss affairs but Catherine had other ideas.
She planted a kiss straight on his lips and as soon as mouth met mouth her tongue engaged his own in oral combat and they wrapped themselves in a tender embrace.
He had wanted to kiss her the first moment he saw her and she was of similar mind but had thought the kiss would never materialise which was why she took it when it was offered.
“We have to stop” she said “Someone might see”
“Damn I was enjoying that” he said as he watched her adjusting her apparel.
“So was I” she admitted “shall we go”
They went down the stairwell towards the basement carpark but stopped half way down for another kiss which soon reignited passions flame, but when a stairwell door opened and closed either above or below she pushed him away and again straightened her clothes.
“Someone is going to see us” she said nervously
“Let’s go then” Phil said and took her hand and they ran down the stairs to the carpark.
When they reached her car Catherine fumbled for the car keys in her bag and failed.
“Your hands are shaking” he pointed out
“I know that’s your fault” she said and tipped the contents of her bag on the bonnet.
“Why?” he asked innocently
“You know why” she replied “because I thought you were never going to call and you did out of the blue and I just want our first date to be perfect, and I’m so nervous, and I’m going to stay nervous until I get you somewhere where I can kiss you in peace, which isn’t going to happen if I can’t find my bloody keys”
“You don’t need your keys for what I have in mind” Phil said turning towards her.
“Does it involve waiting patiently?” she asked
“No”
“Thank God” she replied and turned her head to kiss him.
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