Snippets of Downshire Life – Feast of St Thomas

The traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, has all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park and it was in the grand neighbourhood of Granite Hill, which in a nod to San Francisco, the locals had nicknamed Nob Hill where Illustrator, Kim Labuschagne, was attending a dinner party on St Andrew’s Day, at the home of local celebrity, children’s author, Alesha Khan.

In addition to the hostess Alesha, was St Lucy’s Church Warden, Henry Appleby, Russell Glavin, Curate of same, Alesha’s brother, artist Zach, Literary agents, Jayson and Kathryn Mercer, Actresses Kerry Freeborn and Sharon Blackburn and Tim Street who was a Local Historian, so it was an interesting bunch.

Kim had known Alesha since they were at school and apart from being best friends, Kim also illustrated her children’s books, and as a result she had become well known in her own right and her work had become well sort after, so life was good, but not quite perfect, yet.

Although the dinner guests were indeed interesting her interest was very much in one among them and that was Tim.

When the time came for them to take their seats Kim found that she was seated next to Zach Khan, but he was completely absorbed by Sharon who was opposite him, but Kim had no interest in him anyway because she saved all her attention for Tim Street who was sat opposite her.

Tim was a local historian who was the Curator of the Sharpington History Centre, and he was at the dinner party because Kim asked Alesha to invite him.

They met one rainy Friday afternoon in October, Kim entered the History and stood dripping on the doormat for several minutes before she ventured further.

“Can I help?” Tim asked the tall skinny girl as she dripped on his floor.

 “I do hope so” she replied brightly

“I’m looking for information about my family name”    

“Ok I’m sure we can help with that” She said, “What’s the name?”

“Labuschagne” she replied proudly

“Oh excellent” he replied as he brushed his sandy hair off his forehead “That’s a cracking good name”

“Thank you” she said with a laugh “I like it, and so far, as I know I’m the last one”

“Well come and take a seat and you can tell me what you know over a cup of tea” he suggested

“Oh yes a cup of tea would be lovely”

On that first meeting they spent more than an hour together while Kim related everything that she knew about the family, firstly the facts, names and dates and the anecdotal information which may or may not have been true.

Tim’s immediate interest in the skinny young woman was her name, he did a lot of research of the kind she was looking for, but unlike hers they were very common, such as Wilson, Brown, Andrews and Cooper of which there were very many in the county, so to be asked to undertake research on Labuschagne was refreshingly different.

But an interest in the name was soon surpassed by one in the young woman herself, and in particular her company, although she was unaware of the fact.

Kim had only gone to the History Centre in order to get some help and pointers, but the nice Sandy haired Historian was so helpful and friendly that when he offered to research her name with her she didn’t hesitate to accept.

So, over the following weeks she went to the LHC to meet with him almost every day and with each subsequent visit the importance of her original visit waned while her attraction to Tim grew exponentially.

However, she was not able to shake him from his primary interest in the research which was why she asked Alesha to include him on the party guest list.

But despite the fact that they were seated opposite each other during dinner and talked non-stop about a range of topics, and they both enjoyed the others company, they parted at the end of the evening without securing a date.

However, he did ask if she needed escorting home, but she had to say no as she had already told Alesha that she would help her clear away, she kicked herself for not foreseeing the possibility that he would ask, she was however encouraged that he had asked though.

With the arrival of December came more demands on her time so she wasn’t able to spend as much time with Tim at the LHC, but she looked forward to the times that she could spend with him and she enjoyed every minute she was there, but she made no progress on securing a date.

It was her birthday on the 21st so that was her target and failing that she wanted him on her arm by Christmas.

The problem was that as the days slipped, because Tim was as efficient as he was gorgeous he was likely to have completed his research before she had got her man.

And her worst fears were realised when he phoned her two days before her birthday and told her he was finished.

“Oh great” she said “And so soon”

“When can you pop in?” Tim asked, “Can you do tomorrow?”

“Oh yes I think so” she said unable to think of a reason not to

“Brilliant I’ll see you then” Tim said “Bye”

After she hung up she chastised herself for dithering, but in the end, she couldn’t make it as she was tied up all day with Alesha and her publisher discussing the illustrations for the new book, so she didn’t make it to the Local History Centre until the next day, which was her birthday.

“Hello” he said when he saw her, and she instantly smiled

“Hi Tim, sorry about yesterday” she said

“No problem let’s go and sit” he said “The kettle has just boiled”

“Lovely” she responded

They were sat down at the table with only the remnants of tea left in the mugs when Tim said

“I have a full record of The Downshire Labuschagne’s up to and including you, and as it’s your birthday I had it bound in Leather”

“Wow” Kim said, and as she studied it tears filled her eyes “It’s beautiful”

“I’m glad you like it”

“I love it” she said and stood up and hugged him “Thank you, in fact, let me buy you lunch as a proper thank you”

“Oh, I was going to take you to lunch for your birthday” he said

“Well how about this, I’ll take you for a thank you lunch and then you can take me for a birthday dinner tonight”

“Ok that’s a date” he said

“I do hope so” she said and took hold of his hand

 

Snippets of Downshire Life – St Thomas’ Day

On the west side of Downshire is Northchapel which has always been the Industrial powerhouse of the County and although it doesn’t physically occupy its center it is the beating heart of the County.

In recent generations its fortunes had suffered greatly but in the 70s it was still a major employer, and one of those employers was Pomery’s Perfume’s, which was an old family business established in 1879 by Jules Sebastian Pomery.

They had moved to that location in Northchapel in 1928, to the broad white building which was a prime example of the Art Deco style with its angles, curves and symmetry. 

Not that Thomas Evans had any appreciation of the stylish building, it was just where he worked.

He started there straight from school in 1969 and had been at Pomery’s for six years when the memorable Christmas Lunch occurred.

 

It was four days before Christmas 1975 and the staff had just returned to the factory after having had their Christmas lunch at the Long Ship pub.

Although in truth calling it “Christmas Lunch” was perhaps a bit of a stretch and makes it sound grander that it actually was, in the 1970s, even in Northchapel, pub grub was very unsophisticated fare and invariably consisted of Chicken in a Basket or a Ploughman’s.

The more up market establishments might well offer Scampi in a Basket and a selection of Ploughman’s including a variety of cheeses as alternatives to the norm.

The Long Ship however was not an up-market establishment in any way shape or form and offered Chicken in a Basket or cheddar cheese Ploughman’s, however in addition to that, as it was Christmas you got a Mince Pie as well.

 

So, after their “Christmas Lunch” they all arrived back at work with some of their number much the worse for drink.

Tom Evans himself had perhaps over indulged to a small degree with an unspecified number of Light and Bitters so as a consequence he was wearing beer goggles and even scabby Carole was looking passable, as was Wonky Wendy, so called because she had a wonky eye, in fact Wendy had one eye that looked at you, while the other one was looking for you. 

Not a politically correct name and “Wonky” wasn't even a very imaginative nickname but there you have it, that was the 70s and they were simple folk and easily amused, but regardless of the appropriateness of the name, Tom thought that viewed through beer goggles even she looked quite appetising.

Another of the girls he wouldn’t normally have looked at twice, had he been sober, was Patricia Clarke, although she had nice eyes and a pretty smile, other than that she was a plain looking girl about a year younger than he was.

Over the previous year Pat had made no secret of the fact that she fancied Tom, he on the other hand did not fancy her one iota and not because she was plain or because she was stick thin and featureless or because she was ginger, the truth was she just didn’t do it for him, but that was without the benefit of alcohol fuelled lust.

 

On returning to the factory they continued the party in the canteen, Tom’s tipple of choice from what was available was Light Ale while for Pat it was Port and Lemon and on that day they both necked a few and with every bottle of beer he drank Pat was getting prettier and prettier, and it reached a point that when she went off to the loo he followed a few minutes later and intercepted her as she returned and took her into the coat room.

It was a small room, about 20’ square, with frosted glass on two sides but with the lights off it was dark enough in the shadows for what he had in mind, and apparently it was what she had in mind too, because as soon as the door closed behind them Pat was all over him like a rash and her tongue was in his mouth like an Excocet missile, and her hands were all over him.

“Blimey you're keen” Tom thought to himself and thought he had better join in quick and yanked her blouse from the waist band of her skirt and partly unbuttoned it before going in search of her treasures and when he found them, such as they were, he made a startling discovery.

Not a Scaramanga third nipple kind of thing, what Tom found was something altogether different.

 

Tom Evans was just a callow youth and he wasn’t hugely experienced in the ways of the world, but he had unbuttoned enough blouses, and unhooked enough bra’s, and had sufficient experience of their contents to know that nipples shouldn’t be hairy, the last thing he expected to find surrounding her treasures were course two-inch-long curly ginger hairs, although the ginger part was an assumption as he didn’t actually get to see them.

At the time his brain was sufficiently fogged by Light Ale for him not to care that the contents of her bra were unconventional, so he just resumed his examination of her form and his hands headed south, where he got his hand up her skirt easy enough and was attempting to get his hand in the promised land when the door flew open.

“Aye, aye” Shaft said

Shaft was the Warehouse Foreman, his real name was Ted, but his nickname was Shaft, not because he was black, or was a fan of the TV show, but because he was shafting Beryl from picking, Tom did the gentlemanly thing and positioned himself between Ted and Pat, so she could redress herself.

“I’ve just come for my coat” Ted said with a chuckle as he took his coat off the peg

“Carry on” he said and closed the door.

Tom would have liked to carry on where he left off, but Pat wasn’t so keen in light of their discovery, so they went back to the party and that was that.

 

He never had another close encounter with Pat and in the light of his discovery, he had no desire to, as in the sober light of day he didn’t fancy her.

The day after their St Thomas’ Day fumble in the coat room, when the alcohol fog had lifted, like his namesake he had doubts about the encounter, Tom had always assumed that Pat was short for Patricia but after his discovery, he wasn’t so sure.

Obviously if Shaft hadn’t interrupted them when his hand was up her skirt and he had reached his goal he would have known for sure if his Christmas fumble was fish or fowl, but he didn’t so he remained a Doubting Thomas.