Uncanny Love Tales – (006) Hidden in Tweed

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

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

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

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

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

“After you” he gestured

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should just sit it out” she said again

“Is that wise?” Peter asked

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

“Is it? He asked

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

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

“Sarah Hallam” she responded

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

“You did come well prepared” She said sarcastically

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

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

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

“Frump” she suggested

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

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

Peter listened intently

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a waste” he thought to himself

“And what about you?” She asked

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

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

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

She nodded her understanding

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

“Good idea” Sarah said

 

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

“Thank you” Peter said

“For what?” Sarah asked

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

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

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

Peter thought he detected a slight blush on her cheek.

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

 

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

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

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

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

“It’s the least I can do”

“There really is no need”

“Just dinner at the Pheasant in Keswick” Peter persisted

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

“Wow”

Sarah smiled

“Will I Do?”

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

“Charming” she said

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

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

“I thought this might be more appropriate”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Loving Christmas Linda – The Final Embrace

It was Christmas Eve and the Hartley household in the village of Clerembeax St Giles was decorated for the season.
A large fresh cut tree stood in the corner, perfuming the room and was festooned by a myriad of assorted baubles, ornaments, tinsel and lights.
Christmas cards of all shapes and sizes adorned every surface and more hung on bright red and green ribbons suspended from the picture rails and bright colored Christmas garlands hung gaily, crisscrossing the ceiling.
Outside, through a break in the dark clouds, a shaft of week winter sunlight shone through the window reflecting off the garlands and painted random patterns on the walls and ceiling.
76-year-old Paul Hartley sat watching TV in his favorite armchair in the front room of the house he shared with his wife and soul mate Linda, the woman he loved more than life itself.
Both of them had been married before, but Linda was the love of his life and they had spent 30 years apart before they found each other again, when their own Christmas miracle happened 25 years before.
And as a result of that Christmas miracle they had had 25 years of incredible happiness.
Paul and Linda had made good use of the years they had together to make up for the lost time when they were apart and as a couple they had had the fullest of lives.
Christmas had always held particular significance for them, it was their favorite time of year and had always been so, because their most meaningful moments together happened at Christmas time, finding love together, losing each other, finding each other again, and marrying each other, that’s why Paul called her Christmas Linda.
And because Christmas was so significant to them they did Christmas big and they relished every moment, they would pack away all the ornaments and pictures, and replace them with the festive decorations they had collected over the years, then there would be a houseful on Christmas day and Boxing Day where they shared the celebration with family and friends, and when the festivities were over they would fly off to the sun for a few weeks, just the two of them.
Neither of them could abide the New Year’s holiday so they took themselves away to enjoy each other’s company.
But alas on their 26th Christmas together the season held no joy for Paul, even James Stewart in “It’s a wonderful life” could not lift his spirits and the reason for his gloomy disposition lay in the next room, where the dining table used to stand.
Where they had so many wonderful Christmas dinners, the room full of the happy chatter of good company, the table heaving under the weight of Christmas fare.
But in its place now stood a stark and clinical hospital bed and laying upon it the most precious thing in his life, Linda, surrounded by all the paraphernalia of terminal illness.
Her once vibrant body riddled with inoperable tumors, their evil spread consuming her from within and as the cancer was so far advanced, when it was discovered she refused what little treatment there was on offer and she also stubbornly refused to die in hospital or a hospice.
Linda said she wished to die in the home where she had known such great happiness, so how could he refuse her such a simple wish?
He employed a private nurse who sat with her at night and Paul tended her himself by day and he watched her dying by inches every single day, it seemed to him to be the cruelest of punishments for being so happy.
Paul’s first wife was taken by cancer and that was hard enough to bare.
It was always so hard when someone you love suffers before your eyes, but as much as he loved his first wife and as hard as it was to watch her die, it was nothing compared to the intolerable despair that he felt losing Linda.
She was not only his wife she was his love, his life, his soul mate, she was the one, the love of his life, his Christmas Linda.
He would sit with her and read to her, sometimes Dickens, Stephen King or Tom Sharpe, depending on her frame of mind.
On her brighter days she would have him tell her jokes, she always said he was the only one who could make her laugh.
Her brown hair with its soft curls had long since turned silver and the sparkle was only rarely present in her eyes and the laughter that used to play around them replaced by pain and it was on the morning of that Christmas Eve when Linda told him what she wanted for Christmas.

She was always at her best in the morning but on that morning, she was having a good day so after she had eaten breakfast she asked Paul to pass her the Mahogany filigree jewelry box.
It was a very precious object to her, not valuable in monetary terms, but precious nonetheless, it was the very first Christmas gift he gave her, and she treasured it, and she often told Paul it was her most prized possession, after him.
As he handed it to her she smiled and just for a second there was a glimpse of her loveliness shining through the pain and she patted the bed and bad him sit next to her and as he sat on the bed next to her she took his hand and said quietly.
“I have to say this to you today because I’m having a good day and I don’t know how many good days I’ve got left”
“Don’t be silly” he protested, and she squeezed his hand and then gave him a look which said that he knew very well that she wasn’t.
Linda carefully opened her jewelry box and from a draw within it she took out a neatly folded embroidered handkerchief which she placed on her lap and carefully unfolded it to reveal that inside were a dozen capsules containing her medication.
Linda looked at him with her soulful eyes pleading with him and as the realization of what she was asking sank in Paul violently shook his head.
On her good days she had salted away some of her medication until she now had enough to hasten the end and she squeezed his hand again and said
“Please do this for me”
She explained that she didn’t want him to do it right there and then she just wanted him to agree to do it when the time came, but that that time would be very soon.
“It’s the only gift you can give me this Christmas” Linda asked looking in to his eyes and then he added
“I love you more than anything in the world and I know with all my heart that you love me”
Paul could say nothing as the tears welled up in his eyes.
“Please do this thing for me” she pleaded, and his heart was breaking at the choice he had to make, let her suffer an agonizing conclusion to her life or end her suffering and kill her.
“I just can’t do it” he said through the tears and got up and left the room, she didn’t call after him because she knew he would be back, so with tears streaming down his face he grabbed his coat and went out the front door and went for a walk.
The day was cold, grey and damp and clouds scudded across the December sky and any hint of the promised sunny intervals in the forecast were not in evidence, it was the kind of day that chilled you to the bone, but he didn’t feel the cold at all, he just felt numb.
You had to be alive to feel the cold and he was dying inside, and he walked for miles under the grey skies along the woodland paths they used to walk together, his mind in turmoil his eyes red with tears.
If he did what she wanted he would lose her forever, the loss of her would be devastating, but not to let her go would just be selfish.
Paul’s head was spinning, and he didn’t know which way to turn, images of their happy moments together swam in and out of focus, then as he walked into a clearing in the woods where they once made love on a sultry afternoon, there was a sudden break in the clouds and the woods were bathed in winter sunshine and all at once he knew what he must do and hurried homeward.
When he returned to the house Paul went straight to her bedside where she was sleeping, so he sat in the chair at her bedside and rested his head on the bed beside her then he felt her hand gently stroking his hair.
Paul sat up and her hand moved to his cheek, so he took it in his own paw and kissed it softly and then said
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do”

A week later Christmas had past and he was glad of it, it was without doubt the worst Christmas of his life, full of tears and sadness instead of happiness and laughter
There was no wondrous Christmas feast, no table laden with Christmas delights, no hearty laughter or light-hearted banter, just an endless stream of visitors, friends and family, as cheery as was possible, putting on a brave face as they all came with forced smiles to bring the season’s greetings, but all leaving with tears, knowing that Linda would not see the spring.
Paul tried not to be ungrateful, but every visit ate into the precious time Linda and he had left but he knew how important it was to Linda to see everyone and say goodbye.
Even the doctor called in to make sure she was comfortable and in between visits Paul would sit watching the needles dropping from the tree as if each dropping needle symbolized Linda’s plight.
And as he sat alone in his favorite armchair on New Year’s Eve staring at the pine needles scattered beneath the tree he tried to come to terms with the fact that Linda would die with the old year.
Since Christmas Eve when she made her request of him, Linda had been in good spirits, she had seen everyone in the world that mattered to her and said all the things she needed to say so Linda had decided that morning, that enough was enough.
Paul tried to remain cheerful for her, but she could see through it
“I know you’re hurting too” she said, the pain etched in her face and with that they made their plans for their last day together.

Firstly, Paul phoned the nurse and told her she should have the night off to enjoy the New Year’s Eve celebrations with her family and she was very grateful and accepted his explanation without question.
After that he filled the room with lighted candles and in the flickering light Linda and he spent the evening together looking at photographs and reliving the great times of their life together and played the music that formed the soundtrack of their shared life then an hour before midnight she handed him the folded handkerchief.
He opened it and inside were now close to twenty capsules, and one by one he broke them open and emptied the contents into a wine glass and when he was finished he filled the glass with Port and gave it a stir and put the glass on the bedside table before sitting on the bed.
Paul took her hand and kissed it and leant forward and kissed her mouth and started to say good bye, but she put her hand to his mouth, so he reached over and picked up the glass and held it up to her lips and she took a drink, then a little more and a little more until the glass was empty and he wiped her mouth with the hanky and she burped and then she laughed that wonderful laugh that he loved so much.
The candles sputtered, and the flames flickered and then squeezing his hand she said
“I love you so very much”
“I love you too” Paul said as he sat holding her hand in his and then they just sat in silence looking at each other in the candle light until her eyes closed.
The Village clock began chiming the hour and her hand went limp and her breathing became shallow and then all the pain in her face was suddenly gone as the clock chimed twelve, marking the passing of the old year and unknowingly marked Linda’s passing.
He couldn’t have said how long he sat there holding her dead hand with the tears streaming down his face, but as he sat there he knew what had to be done.
Paul poured himself a large whisky and sat in his favorite armchair where he wrote a long letter explaining what he had done, and what he was about to do.
With the letter written he put it into an envelope and placed it on the mantelpiece where it would be easily found, then he drank his whisky and reached into his pocket and removed the contents, placing them on his lap.
He filled the syringe with the insulin he had stolen from the doctor’s bag the day before and injected himself with the full syringe and as his eyes grew heavy he could feel Linda’s hand on his shoulder and felt her fingers in his hair and as he drifted into a coma she whispered
“I love you” in his ear as his eyes closed.
When they opened again he couldn’t believe what he saw, it was a place that was familiar to him, it was Millmoor as it was more than 50 years earlier and it was snowing, and the street was full of happy smiling people and there among them was Linda, larger than life, vivacious and self-assured covered with snowflakes and laughing.
It was his snow angel, his Christmas Linda with snow covering her like sugar on a doughnut, a delicious confection he would have gladly consumed, wrapped up against the cold in a red woolen hat and coat and a long-knitted scarf draped about her neck.
Still laughing, she shook her head and the light brown hair that hung beneath her hat danced about her shoulders and the snowflakes fell away from her soft curls only to be replaced by fresh ones.
There was a rosy redness on her cheeks almost matching the hue of her coat and she was young again, they were both young again and they had gone back 55 years to the scene of their first embrace.
Linda threw herself at him and she hugged him so tightly and he smelled her hair as he held onto her and was intoxicated by her scent which over whelmed him.
They were stood at the taxi rank and snow fell onto Linda’s soft curls as they took their place in the queue and they kissed.
All too soon a taxi arrived, as it had done 55 years earlier, but this time they both got in and through the winter wonderland they departed, this time never to be parted again.

Loving Christmas Linda – The Special Embrace

51-year-old Paul Hartley found himself stranded in a strange town with less than a week to go before Christmas.
Although to be fair an unfamiliar town would have been a more accurate description, but nonetheless he was stranded almost a hundred miles from home in Abbeyvale, with a seriously sick car in the garage and a distinct lack of will to contemplate traveling home to the north by train.
In truth he was in no hurry to return home to the empty soulless house that he was once happy to call home, which now held no comfort for him.
Paul’s wife of twenty-five years, Elaine, had died earlier that year, finally losing her battle with cancer.
Their three children were all grown up now with homes and families of their own so there was only him in a house full of reminders.
The house would be full at Christmas, full of noise and hustle and bustle, and the usual mix of love, laughter and tears, but for now it was cold and empty.
So he booked himself into the Abbeyvale Court Hotel for the weekend and he would drive home on Monday once the car had been resurrected.
Finding himself in a strange (unfamiliar) town just a handful of days before Christmas and with more than a little time to kill he decided he could fill part of his day by doing some last-minute Christmas shopping.
So after breakfast on Saturday morning he left the Hotel and as Paul stepped outside he shivered, the day was cold, grey and damp and clouds scudded across the December sky, it was the kind of day that chilled you to the bone.
He made his way towards the high street, which was only a five-minute walk, the receptionist had assured him with a smile, as she jotted down some brief directions.
In an effort to warm himself up he walked briskly following her directions down the narrow almost Dickensian lanes and alleyways, passing picturesque Victorian and Tudor buildings, well mock Tudor at least, as he went.
It was indeed five minutes when he emerged onto the busy cobbled pedestrianized high street which was a curious mixture of the ancient and the modern.
At one end of the street a Norman Church was visible and at the other was what appeared to be a municipal building with rather pretentious Georgian columns.
There was still evidence of a row of Edwardian shop fronts but much of the street was modern with a little too much sixties influence to be easy on the eye in Paul’s opinion.
The street was crisscrossed along its full length with festive lights and decorations which did their best to brighten the scene.
Paul decided to familiarize himself with what the town had to offer in the way of shops, so he turned left and joined the throng of shoppers, with gloomy faces to match the weather, and headed towards the Georgian pillared building which turned out to be the public library.
As he dodged between the Christmas Lemmings Paul made a mental note of the shops that interested him, which he would return to.
His progress was hampered by erratic shoppers who appeared to move independently to any logic.
Some seemed to zigzag everywhere and very few possessed the ability to walk in a straight line for more than a few paces and others would take a few steps and then stop for no apparent reason, then after a few moments pause carry on, normally in the same direction.
The sound of cheery Christmas songs and carols could be heard from every shop he passed though the cheeriness of the music was clearly not reflected on the faces of the shoppers going in and out of them.
As he passed one shop Noddy Holder screamed “it’s Christmas” to the outside world, just in case any of the reluctant shoppers were in any doubt.
When Paul reached the other end of the high street where the Norman Church stood there was a little square, which he wasn’t able to see before, in the center of which was the war memorial, and to its left was a magnificent Christmas tree, festooned with a myriad of assorted baubles, ornaments, tinsel, lights and surmounted by a beautiful angel.
Assembled around the tree was the Salvation Army band and Paul took a few moments to admire the tree and listen to the band and while he listened he was taken back to a distant time and place where he and the love of his life had held hands as they sang along.
The clock chimed, and he was brought back to the present and he took a few more moments while he decided on his first port of call, not realizing at the time just how important a decision it would prove to be.
Paul decided on Woolworths, always a favorite of his at Christmas, but on this occasion, it also happened to be the closest, so he walked briskly towards the store and pushed open the door.
As he prepared to enter he paused to hold the door open for a woman coming the other way and he waited patiently as she put her purse away into a huge handbag and he wondered what response he would get for his trouble.
Paul had found that the older he got the less women appreciated courtesy, the simple act of holding open a door could provoke a wide range of responses, a smile, a thank you, a nod, a sneer, a tut, an accusation of male chauvinism or a colorful mouth full of abuse, and he couldn’t always tell who was going to do what.
When the woman had finished fiddling and securing her bag she moved to step through the open door and as she passed Paul she looked up and said
“Thank you” followed by a broad smile, and then she stopped in her tracks as Paul returned her smile and then he too just stood there.
Both of them stood motionless on the threshold as slowly the recognition set in and they were both dumbstruck, not believing their eyes.
Neither of them were sure how long they stood looking at one another for, but long enough for a queue to form behind each of them.
When they realized what they had done they both blushed and excused themselves and stepped out onto the street away from the door apologizing profusely.
When they were clear of the crowd neither of them knew what to say, and still couldn’t believe their eyes, but Paul knew in his heart without a doubt that he was looking at Linda Parsons, who he had last seen 30 years before being driven off in a taxi, disappearing off through the snow, with her palm pressed against the glass as she craned her neck to keep sight of him through the snow spattered window until the very last moment, until the cab had gone from his sight.
But here she stood before him as beautiful as ever she was in his eyes, the soft curls of her light brown hair, which hung beneath her hat, still danced about her shoulders, it just had fine strands of silver threaded through it.
Her smile was still able to melt his heart, even after all those years and her smiling eyes still had the same sparkle and he thought the years had been kind to her and less so to him.
As he studied her he was fumbling for the right words to express his joy at seeing her when she reached up and hugged his neck, kissing his cheek at the same time, and spoke softly in his ear.
“Paul, is it really you?”
He simply said “yes” and they stood in a long comfortable embrace, and he didn’t know how long they stood there, not wanting to let go before she relaxed her grip and he kissed her forehead
“It’s so good to see you” he said feebly, and she put her head on his chest, squeezed him and sighed.
Linda released her grip and pulled away slightly and put her hand up to his cheek and caressed his grey beard.
“Do you have time for coffee?” She asked almost pleadingly
“Of course,” Paul said, and she put her arm through his and led him across the high street, asking quick fire questions as they went.
Paul explained about his car breaking down and that he was staying at the Abbeyvale Court Hotel as he was in no rush to return home
She responded with “oh really” and “oh dear” internally delighting in his misfortune as they walked into the nearest coffee shop, Café Société, and sat on a large comfortable sofa and over coffee they told the tales of their lives spent apart.
And throughout Paul looked at her with adoring eyes, periodically pinching himself, expecting to awake from a dream, as he had done so very many times before.
He told her about his wife and children and she told him of her marriage to Daniel and the subsequent divorce.
The good man that Paul gave Linda up for turned out to have feet of clay and degenerated into a violent drunk, they had no children, which although unsaid was clearly a regret for her.
With the aid of several cups of coffee they managed to talk away the entire morning and Paul suggested they might spend the rest of the day together and have dinner together at the hotel.
Linda readily accepted the invitation to dinner with a delightful smile but then she looked at her watch and suddenly jumped up in alarm
“Look at the time, I have to go” she flustered then she said she had a prior commitment
“Lunch with mum” she added rather unconvincingly, saying it was something she couldn’t get out of as he helped her back into her coat, the smell of her hair evoking memories of their past embraces.
She fished out her mobile phone as they left the coffee shop, from her huge handbag and they exchanged phone numbers, and firmed up the details for the evening, then with a hug and a kiss she was off.
Paul stood and watched her walk away, her coat tails swishing behind her, she stopped briefly and turned to give him a smile and a wave, then with the phone to her ear she hurried off again talking animatedly and he stood watching until she disappeared from sight before he went back to his Christmas shopping and treated himself to a new shirt for the evening.
Paul bought all the gifts he was looking for, plus paper, tags, cards etc. and with all his shopping complete he returned to the hotel for a late lunch.
After that the rest of the day seemed intolerably long, and in an effort to kill some time he went for a swim, used the gym, and then went for a walk.
He got a haircut, even though he didn’t need one, he even wrapped the Christmas presents he had bought that morning, but the time passed so interminably slowly.

Paul walked into the hotel bar at 7 o’clock, an hour early, partly for some Dutch courage and in part because he had run out of things to do so he ordered a drink and then sat at the bar.
Even though he wasn’t expecting her until eight, every time the door opened he turned to look for her and when it wasn’t her his self-doubt crept in, and with every false alarm the doubts got worse, what if she doesn’t come? What if she changed her mind? What if she never intended to come? What if? What if? What if?
Then at a quarter to the hour the door opened and there she was, the love of his life, and every bit as beautiful to him as ever, in spite of the passing years.
Linda was wearing a simple black knee length dress, black tights or stockings and four-inch stiletto shoes, and he thought her legs were as shapely as he remembered them.
In fact he thought that everything about her was as wonderful as he remembered, even though she was thirty years older.
She held a black leather clutch bag in her hand and her face looked a little anxious until Paul stood up and then it lit up with the most radiant smile.
Relieved to find him there, she walked towards him almost tottering on her heels and that made her laugh.
“Hello” She said, and he responded “Hi” and took her hand as she climbed onto a stool.
Paul kissed her cheek and the fragrance of her perfume was quite intoxicating, going straight to his head like a strong spirit and the combination of her scent and his desire for her almost made him swoon.
He ordered her a drink and they nervously made small talk, like two strangers on a blind date, until the waitress led them through to the restaurant.
“How did your lunch with your mum go?” Paul asked once they were seated at their table and she blushed the deepest red in response
“The lunch date was a little white lie” she admitted
“Oh?”
“Because I needed the afternoon to get ready” she said, “for this”
“And the animated phone call you were having when you left?”
“Was to my sister, to rally the troops and get me presentable” she confided and they both laughed and any awkwardness between them was gone.
“Well, all I can say is that it was time well spent” he said, and she blushed again at the compliment.
Over dinner they talked with such an easy familiarity as if her departing taxi had only been a week earlier rather than 30 years.
By the time they had finished their coffee the restaurant was empty except for Paul and Linda and a very weary waitress waiting to clear their table.
The evening seemed to have passed by in the blink of an eye and had all too soon come to an end.
They got up and made their apologies and Linda went through the door to the ladies while Paul signed the bill.
“Good night” he said, “and I must apologize again for keeping you so late”
After leaving a large tip on the table he went in search of Linda through the same door she had used, and he found her standing by the Christmas tree.
She had retrieved her coat and scarf from the cloakroom, which were draped over one arm, and her bag was in her hand.
Linda stood with her back to him gazing out of the window, but she could see his reflection in the glass and smiled at him and he gasped at the beauty of her and pinched himself again.
He wanted to kiss her so much, but he was afraid, afraid to break the magic of that special kiss, that perfect moment when they kissed in the snow all those years earlier when he let her slip from his grasp.
For 30 years he had revered that moment, reliving it whenever on a winter’s night he heard the Salvation Army play, or when the snow fell during Christmas time, or when he felt a snowflake on his skin, or stood in a taxi queue on a winter’s night.
For 30 years he had wanted to be back there in that moment holding her in the snow, and there she stood a few steps away from him, yet he was hesitant.
But as if sensing his turmoil, she turned away from the window and he took those few steps to face her.
They stood beside the Christmas tree for a few moments just looking at each other, then she smiled her most heart melting smile as she caressed his cheek before she pulled him to her and kissed him gently on the lips, a warm sensitive and tender kiss.
When their lips touched electricity ran down his spine and it was as if they were young again.
When their lips parted she smiled at him coyly and flushed a deep shade of pink and a second later they met again, and her kiss became more intense, more passionate.
Her coat, scarf and bag fell to the floor as their arms enveloped each other and they stood locked in passionate embrace as the tree lights twinkled beside them.
Linda pulled away for a moment before burying her face in his neck and then softly spoke in his ear.
“You see, that was as good as the first time”
“How could I have doubted it would be perfect?” he responded and cupping her flushed cheek in his palm before he slid his fingers beneath her soft brown curls and caressed the soft downy hair on her nape as he pulled her head toward him, so he could kiss her sweet lips again.
The next time they paused she put her head on his chest, still holding on to him so tightly as Paul kissed the top of her head and smelled her hair.
He held her and didn’t want to let her go, and then he said
“Please stay, I can’t watch you disappear from my life again in another taxi”
In response she lifted her head from his chest and looked at him and said
“I’m not letting you go again, not now, not ever”
Then she smiled at him coyly and blushed like a virgin before she buried her face in his chest again.
A moment later she scooped up her coat, scarf and bag from the floor and took his hand and they walked in silence to his room.
Outside in the corridor she looked deeply into his eyes and kissed his mouth before Paul opened the door and let her walk inside.
She immediately dropped her coat and bag onto a chair and turned to face him as he followed her and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear
“I never stopped loving you”
Paul’s arms enveloped her and pulled her close to him and then they kissed, at first soft and tender but then more urgently and he began to un-wrap his most special Christmas gift, wrapped in lace and silk instead of paper and ribbon.
Caressing her body from neck to lacy stocking top and their love was at last made absolute.
When their act of love was complete, and their dreams realized they lay holding each other in the afterglow, silently content until they drifted off to sleep.

Paul awoke to find Linda stood silhouetted against the window, gazing out into the night, wearing his shirt to cover her nakedness and she turned her head to look at him and said
“It’s snowing”
Paul slipped out of bed and joined her at the window, and standing behind her encompassing her in his arms they watched as the snow settled on the courtyard and she hugged his arms and said
“How perfect is that?”
They stood for a few minutes taking in the snowy scene, both thinking back to the last time they enjoyed the snowfall together then she inclined her head, so he could kiss her and when his hands moved from her soft belly and cupped her breasts she led him back to the bed and they made love again.

He woke early the next morning and lay in the half light and held Linda’s sleeping form in his arms and as he lay there he thought how good the fates had been to them that weekend.
If his car hadn’t broken down, and had he not rejected the idea of taking the train, he would not have been shopping on that cold grey morning.
He thought about the moments he spent admiring that tree in the square and listening to the Salvation Army band, and what thought processes made him do what he did.
Was it destiny that he chose to start his shopping at Woolworths, and at the very that moment Linda was preparing to leave, or just blind luck?
They could have chosen any one of the five doors along Woolworths frontage but they both chose the same one, surely that had to be fate.
Although it didn’t really matter to him, all he knew for sure was that 24 hours before that day his life had been so sad and empty and now it was full to overflowing and he was finally with his soul mate.
Linda was in Paul’s life at last and he wanted her never to leave it again, but if fate decreed that the special embrace on one special night of that special weekend was all they could have then he would have been content, but he didn’t have to.

Loving Christmas Linda – The First Embrace

Outside in the winter night, snow spattered, unseen, against the other side of the steamy glass, glass which reflected back images like mirrors against the dark beyond.
It was a fairly crowded Friday evening train, but not full, there were still a number of empty seats, one of which was next to 21-year-old Paul Hartley.
The carriage was occupied by a mixture of weary shoppers, shopping bags bursting at the seams and commuting workers content that the weeks work was done, all journeying homeward at the dark days end.
A cheerful crowd though, Paul thought, pleased with themselves for a variety of reasons, bright faced and hearty and full of seasonal cheer and anticipating the Christmas holiday and seemingly oblivious to the drafty carriage, and the winter weather beyond it.
Paul sat alone as the train rattled out of Nettlefield Station and felt lifted by the quiet jolliness as he contemplated the collective countenance of his self-satisfied travelling companions and then she appeared, and Paul was all at once lifted higher.
Because there she was, larger than life, vivacious and self-assured, covered with snowflakes and laughing to herself.
It was his snow angel, Linda Parsons, with snow covering her like sugar on a doughnut, a delicious confection he would have gladly consumed.
Linda was wrapped up against the cold in a red woolen hat and coat and a long-knitted scarf draped about her neck.
Still laughing, she shook her head and the light brown hair that hung beneath her hat, danced about her shoulders and the snowflakes settled on them melted away from her soft curls.
There was a rosy redness on her cheeks, almost matching the hue of her coat, either from the cold winter evening or a liberal taste of Christmas spirit, a little of both Paul assumed.
Linda made her way unsteadily down the train between the seats leaving wet snowflakes in her wake with her full-length coat swishing from side to side.
She moved almost gracelessly, which Paul thought suited her well, as she tottered a little in her high heeled boots, perhaps due to the lurching motion of the train or the Christmas punch and eggnog at the office party.
As Paul studied her she was still laughing softly to herself, which he thought also suited so well, and then she saw him, and her eyes lit up like beacons, and he sighed as he looked into those wonderful, sparking, laughing eyes as she stopped and stood momentarily open mouthed, and then her smile illuminated the carriage and his heart soared at the sight of her and as Paul returned her smile she flushed a little deeper red.
It had been almost a year since he had last seen her, and she was his lovely lost love, Linda, and it had been a hard year for him, in which he had locked all his feelings for her away, but the instant he saw her they were back with a vengeance.
It was like a door had opened in his heart and they all rushed out, he had missed her so much in that time, but he didn’t know just how much until that moment.
They were never lovers, only ever friends, but very special friends, very close friends, though nothing more.
They liked each other’s company, they would have lunch together, journey to and from work on the same bus, shared a cab when the need arose and laughed a lot together, shared confidences, and talked incessantly, because they were best friends but that was as far as it ever went, though he wanted more, he wanted so much more but Paul didn’t want to lose what they had together, so he said nothing.
He loved her so much that it hurt, but she was not free for him to love and Linda was not free to love him even if she had wanted to, so Paul contented himself with their special friendship and his unrequited love remained just that.
If that was all he could have then better that than nothing, so he was happy to love her unconditionally.
They had plenty of opportunities to see each other as they both lived in the same road in Millmoor, he with his cousin and she with her parents, and they both worked at St Augusta’s Hospital in Nettlefield, where Linda was a clerical assistant and Paul was a porter.
And that unrequited love affair could have gone on indefinitely had circumstances not changed for him when his father died.
As a result, he had to move away to look after his mother and he didn’t see Linda again, not until that moment.
When she was standing in front of him, his angel, larger than life, smiling, blushing, laughing and oh so lovely.
Paul stood up and smiled at her again and she threw herself at him and Linda hugged him so tightly and as she did so, he smelled her hair as he held onto her and was intoxicated by her scent and all the old feelings flooded back, over whelming him.
Paul had often dreamt of being reunited with her, but never in his wildest dreams had he expected such a reaction from her.
“Could it be my love is not unrequited?” he wondered
They sat down heavily on the lumpy seats in the rattling carriage and to all intents and purposes were completely alone.
They sat looking at each other in silence not wanting to lose sight of one another just in case the spell was broken.
Linda removed a glove and put her hand on his as if testing it was not a dream and he was really there, in substance.
“It really is you” she said and then she slipped her hand into his, her delicate fingers lacing between his, her hand so small in his grasp.
For the remainder of the journey they reveled in each other’s company as they caught up with the lost months, filling in the gaps of their time apart, and as they did so they remained oblivious to their traveling companions, it was as if they had never been apart.
But apart they most certainly had been, she still worked at the hospital in Nettlefield and lived at home in Millmoor while he now lived in Nettlefield and worked for Stephenson’s Supermarket’s as a Warehouse manager.
Linda playfully chastised him for disappearing so completely from her life.
“I thought it was the only way” he said, intimating the disposition of his feelings to her for the first time.
“I’ve missed you so much” she said and squeezed his hand and then the train shook to a halt as all too soon they had arrived at Millmoor Station and their fellow travelers all rushed off into the winter air heading towards their Christmases.
Reluctantly Paul and Linda left their seats and disembarked from the carriage arm in arm, then hand in hand as they walked slowly along the platform, still talking and laughing, until they handed over their tickets and then stepped out of the Station and onto the street, where the shops were now closing and the town had settled down to a relative quiet, although from one pub Noddy Holder screamed “it’s Christmas” to the outside world and only the pubs and restaurants seemed to hold any attraction to the remaining Millmoorian’s.
Paul and Linda however were not interested in noisy hostelries, so they joined a small group gathered round the Salvation Army band and joined in with the carol singing in the town square before reluctantly strolling towards the taxi rank as the snow again fell onto Linda’s soft curls.
They were both bound for different parts of town, Linda, had to get home to babysit her sister and Paul was bound for The Downshire Grey where he was meeting up for a Christmas drink with friends.
They took their place in the queue of travelers eager to be home, Paul was eager to be nowhere else but with Linda and he shuffled along for the last few steps like a sulky schoolboy.
Linda was smiling as she turned to face him and kissed him gently on the lips, such a warm sensitive and tender kiss, their first ever kiss, and when their lips parted she smiled at him coyly and flushed a deep shade of pink.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long” she said, and Paul kissed a snowflake off her nose and cupping her flushed cheek in his palm he slid his fingers beneath her soft brown curls and caressed the soft downy hair on her nape as he pulled her sweet lips to his and returned her kiss.
Linda’s arms enveloped him, holding him so close, and so tightly, not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose what they had found and not wanting to lose him again.
They stood locked in their first passionate embrace as the snow fell softly on the scene until Linda pulled away for a moment before burying her face in his neck and saying softly.
“I’ve missed you so much, I’ve missed your love for me”
Paul had waited so long for that moment, waited so long to hear those words, to hear his love returned and then they kissed again.
Taxi’s arrived and departed through the slush and the queue around them just kept moving as if unaware of the depth of their love.
After an indeterminate period, they moved from the queue and found a bench in the town square, in a quiet spot with a view of the Christmas Tree and talked.
The substance of that talk was of love, a shared love, an unquenchable love.
Not an unrequited one as Paul had supposed because Linda had the same profound feelings for him, she had always done so she said, but she had not been free to pursue her love for Paul a year earlier and she was still not free.
So, Linda was torn between the two loves in her life, torn between the comfortable familiarities for a good man, a loyal and dependable man, for safety if you like, and the passion she felt for a soul mate.
Paul was similarly conflicted, Linda was the love of his life and he would never, could never love another in the same way, but it wasn’t fair on Daniel, her other love, her childhood sweetheart, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Paul had been on the receiving end of that kind of pain and he found himself unable to inflict it onto another, even if he were a rival, so the conclusion to their converse as they cuddled on the quiet bench was that their love was a forbidden one, and had to be set aside.
They could be best friends no more, not now the genie was out of the bottle, though they both wanted more, so much more.
Paul could not content himself with the special friendship that they had once treasured, not now that he knew his love was not unrequited.
There was no going back, now Pandora’s Box had been opened, but at least now he knew she loved him with the same depth of feeling as he loved her.
After they had reached the conclusion of their frank exchange they slowly walked hand in hand back to the taxi rank and kissed again in the falling snow.
They joined the queue and all too soon it was her turn and after a final kiss she got into a taxi and through the winter wonderland Linda departed taking Paul’s love with her.
As the Taxi drove away with Linda in the back, with her palm pressed against the glass, she craned her neck to keep sight of him through the snow spattered window until the very last moment, until the cab had gone from his sight.
Linda was gone from his arms, gone from his view, gone from his life but a Christmas happening had changed his life forever, after a brief encounter, fleeting, here and then gone.
Her scent was still in his nostrils, the taste of joy on his lips, and his soulmate was gone forever, yet she remained forever in his memory, forever in his heart.
He resolved that he would never see her again and moved away in the New Year to avoid another chance encounter and make a life elsewhere, but Paul never forgot Linda.
And when on a winter’s night he heard the Salvation Army play, or when the snow falls during Christmas time, or when he felt a snowflake on his skin, he feels her small hand in his and all at once she is in his arms once again, and he can smell her soft brown hair and the taste of her is on his lips and he hears her say “I love you” and Linda is his forever.

The Art of Loneliness

(Part One)

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Part Two)

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

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

(Part Three)

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

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

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

(Part Four)

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

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

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

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

(Part Five)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Part Six)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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