Thursday, 8 June 2017

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (74) The Roespring Verger

(Part 01)

Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north and our story begins in the affluent village of Roespring.

As part of his recuperation Mark Adams took an extended walk around his neighbourhood in Roespring and after about forty minutes he began to tire so he headed towards home.
He had been in and out of hospital for the previous ten years following a bad car accident just after his 15th birthday.
As he got close to home he turned into Bridge Farm lane which led past the back of St Catherine’s Church and that was when he met Abigail Evans coming the other way and his heart fluttered because he was in love with her.
She was the verger at St Catherine’s where her Uncle, James Hall, was the vicar.
She had her curly red hair tied up and hidden beneath a broad floppy hat and was wearing a green summer dress and a pashmina around her shoulders.
Abigail didn’t see him because she was looking at her sandals as they were shuffling and scuffing down the lane, if she had seen him her heart would have raced, but she just ambled along and she almost walked into him.
“Oh hello Mark” she said when she finally looked up

He really liked Abigail, he had got to know her during his years of recuperation, and she had been very kind in providing assistance to his family, respite care, parochial support and pastoral care.
They were similar ages, and got on very well, but despite that in many ways they were chalk and cheese.
Abigail was a very confident young woman, in fact she was ultra-confident and self-assured.
While he was shy, socially awkward and riddled with self-doubt especially around the opposite sex.
For ten years his only contact with woman were nurses and doctors so he was completely inexperienced in their regard.
She was also pretty which made him even more conscious of his own inadequacies.
Although they had become good friends, Abigail was the driving force in their friendship, she was bold and bubbly and pushed him along which made him feel more confident, and she gave him the daring to do things he would never have done on his own.
And he would have been perfectly happy living life on her coat tails because without her he would founder.
The problem was he had absolutely no idea how to move thing along however or even if she would want him to.
“Hi Abigail” he responded
“So what have you been up to?” she enquired
“Just walking” he replied “What about you?”
“I’ve been to a BBQ at aunt Sian’s” she answered, “I left early because I caught the sun a bit”
She lifted the pashmina off her shoulder so he could see.
“Oooh” he said “is it sore?”
“A little”
“Have you put something on it?” he asked and Abigail shook her head
“That’s going to burn if you don’t,” he told her
“Well come to the vicarage then and you can do it for me”
“Ok” he replied cheerfully “You have the wrong complexion for sitting in the sun”
“I know”
“You need to be careful with your lovely pale skin” he added and blushed when he realized he had said it out loud.
They went inside the house and she removed her floppy hat and said
“Make yourself at home I’ll just get the after sun”

(Part 02)

It was about ten minutes later when she returned and the pashmina had gone and she had untied her hair glorious red mane.
“Where would you like me?” she asked
“In my arms” he replied in his head, but out loud he said
“On a dining chair I think”
Mark stood behind it as Abigail sat on the chair and let the straps fall off her shoulders so he had access to all the affected area.
The sunburn was nowhere near as bad as it first looked but he didn’t tell her that because he wanted to touch her, he longed to touch her, he just hoped he could prevent his hands from shaking while he did it.
“This might hurt a little, but let me know if you want me to stop” he said
“Ok” she answered meekly.
Mark squirted some cream on her back and began to gently rub in the lotion.
“How does that feel?” he asked
“Oooh lovely” Abigail replied as she thought the lotion was cool on her skin but as he rubbed it in it made her feel hot and her imagination went into overdrive so after a few minutes she turned and looked up at him with pleading eyes, but although he made eye contact with her he was clueless what to do next.
Abigail realized in that instance that he was not going to act so she grabbed his wrists and pulled him down towards her so that his mouth was in range and she kissed his mouth.
“At last” she thought and after a few moments she suddenly leapt up out of the chair so she could get a proper hold on him.

The kiss became frenzied and haphazard as their hands explored and caressed until Abigail took hold of his hand and said through hot panting lips
“Come to bed”
“What? No” he retorted
“Make love to me Mark” she implored
“But what about the vicar?” he asked still holding her hand
“Make love to me” She repeated as she pulled him towards the door “He won’t be back until late”
“But…” he began
“Shush I want you to take me to bed and make love to me”
“Ok,” he said meekly
“Come on then,” she said forcefully and Abigail led him by the hand all the way upstairs and into her bedroom.
She walked to the other side of the room and drew the curtains and then standing with her back to him she quickly divested herself of her dress and scrambled under the covers.
From where she then removed her pants and dropped them on the floor and then her eyes peered at him over the top of the duvet as he did the same and then as he slipped under the duvet she cuddled up close to him.
“I’ve never done this before” she said
“What in the vicarage you mean?”
“No, I’ve never done “this” before” she said quietly “I’ve never done “it””
Abigail suddenly looked quite childlike and unsure, the complete opposite of her normal demeanour, he assumed because she was so ultra-confident and self-assured that she was experienced, in all the ways that he was not.
“Nor have I” he said and laughed
“Really?” Abigail said “I’m so glad”
“You don’t mind?” Mark asked
“No, it makes this extra special” she replied “and you won’t notice how rubbish I am”
“Nor me” he remarked
“I think it will be perfect” she whispered
“You’re perfect” he responded and kissed her lips softly.

As they lay entwined together beneath the covers on a hot June afternoon they were feeling very pleased with themselves as they basked in the afterglow of the their first time.
Although they didn’t know it at the time what they had just experience wouldn’t even make it to the best one hundred times in the not to distant future but on that afternoon they were very happy.

Wednesday, 7 June 2017

Downshire Diary – (73) The Homecoming Muse

(Part 01)

Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north but our story begins in the East, or more precisely, 20 miles inland from Sharpington-By-Sea, equidistant between Finchbottom and Pepperstock Green, in the sprawling village of Denmead.

Owen Carrington’s Uncle Glyn died on New Year’s Day and left him his Cottage and a small cash sum, more than enough to keep him going for a few more years.
He left it to him because he felt they were kindred spirits, he wanted to be a writer himself but his father made him get a proper job, Owen really liked him and he was a great story teller, and it was his Uncles colourful tales that helped him when he was writing his novels.
His death came as a great shock as it was sudden though not unsurprising given his health.

So that was how he found himself living in a lovely Victorian Cottage in the quaint Downshire Village of Denmead.
It was a very tranquil place though not without its distractions.
From his study he could look out through the open French windows and across the expanse of lawn to a stand of ancient woodland, there was no fence to separate garden and wood the two just merged.
And on the other side of the wood was the hub of the village, the Green Oak, everyone seemed to go there at some point, either for a drink, the restaurant or the coffee suite.

As a writer Owen’s star was definitely in the ascendency after the success of his first Romantic novel “The Maiden Muse” but the change in the fortunes of his writing career were not universally well received, his publisher liked it, his new agent loved it, the bank manager was ecstatic about it but his mother was disappointed by it because she thought it was a bit girlie.

But it wasn’t just his writing career that was climbing high, so was his love life thanks to his muse and lover, Juliana Molesworth, who had brought his writers block to an end, and since she had become his muse he had become a writer of bodice ripping romances which had proved to be an occupation which suited him very well indeed.
And it suited him in many ways, but the main benefit was that he was able to work at home, so he had no tedious commute every day and his working day was flexible to the point that some days he didn’t write at all.
This afforded him the opportunity of playing a round of Golf during the working week when most people had their noses to the grindstone or even taking a day out to go fishing.

(Part 02)

Owen Carrington’s muse and lover Juliana Molesworth, was in her third year at the University of Downshire where she studied English at Abbottsford.
In the short time they had been together she had come to mean everything to him so in the final weeks of the year he did something that rocked her world, he asked her to marry him, and she said yes.

Since the day of the proposal they missed each other terribly while she was at University and he was in Denmead time hung heavy so he was really looking forward to her coming home for the three week Christmas break.

Due to some heavy snow fall over night and him having to clear the drive before he could get the car out of the garage, he was about forty minutes late leaving for the drive to Abbottsford.
He called ahead to let Juliana know he was running late but she was ok about it as she was all behind herself.

He got to Juliana’s place around one o’clock and miracle of miracles she was ready to go.
Half an hour after he finished loading the car they finally got away when she had finished saying her goodbyes of course.

When they got back to Denmead he thought Juliana would be eager to be reunited with her nearest and dearest, but it turned out that she was more eager to be reunited with him.
“Don’t take me home yet” she said as they entered the village
“Aren’t you in a hurry to see your mum and dad?” he asked
“Yes, but I want to spend a couple of hours with my fiancé first” she said
“I like the way that sounds” Owen replied

He parked on the drive and walked to the door and went inside and they had barely got through the front door before she launched herself at him and kissed him.
“Merry Christmas” she said

They spent a pleasant couple of hours cuddling on the sofa as they watched a classic Christmas movie and when it was finished he was allowed to take her home to be reunited with her family.

It was starting to snow again as he reversed onto the Molesworth’s drive, it was little more than a flurry really, barely even enough to qualify as a light shower.
He unloaded the car while Juliana rushed inside and hugged her waiting parents and he traipsed in with her stuff amidst the scene of reuniting embraces and jovial laughter.
And after a farewell kiss when his duties were fulfilled he left the Molesworth’s to their reunion and drove home.
But he knew he would see his homecoming muse again the next day.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (73) Miss Kirby and the Curate

(Part 01)

Virginia Kirby was a ward sister at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was a rather plain middle-aged woman just the wrong side of 50.
Virginia was five foot six inches tall and very trim, and stood an inch or so taller in her stout shoes, and her sisters uniform fitted her perfectly, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.
Her once black hair was now streaked with grey and bore what Catherine Cookson fans would recognise as the “Mallen streak”.
She was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t all due to laughter lines, life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face as well, each line and furrow an event and for those who could read such signs it was like her résumé.
She was well-liked and respected at work but none of her colleagues knew her outside of work and assumed she was just a sad lonely spinster.
That was due in part to the fact that she was a private person and didn’t talk of her private life and also because those who had happened to see her outside of work reported back that she was a frump as she choose to dress in the twin set and tweed style because sartorially Virginia was a sensible shoes and utilitarian tights kind of woman.
Even people from the village of Dulcet St Mary, where she had lived for 20 years believed her to be a sad lonely old soul and many of them referred to her as “the prudish Miss Kirby” or “virginal Virginia” or “the dried up old spinster”.

But as more than one man had found out over the years to their surprise beneath the frumpy exterior lay a hidden warmth.
The other thing that tended to reinforce the stereotype was her heavy involvement with St Mary’s church but even the other congregants were unaware of her true nature.
Which was why when a new curate arrived at St Mary’s and was in need of lodgings Virginal Virginia was as always the obvious choice.
Being single and living in a four bedroom house she always had room for a lodger and being the epitome of respectability and a dried up old virgin to boot there was never a hint of impropriety.

So that was how it came about that the new curate, 34 year old Colin Ash, came to be knocking on Virginia’s front door one cold winters evening.
“Mrs Kirby?” he asked as she opened the door and she gave the curate an appraising glance, he was tall and lean with curly mousy hair and blue eyes and a nervous smile.
“Miss” she replied, and there was a moment’s hesitation as he digested the information that she was unmarried but Virginia Kirby was quite small and slim, much smaller than Colin, dowdy and frumpy looking, on looking her up and down he felt all was in order.
“I’m Colin Ash” he said “the new curate, I’ve come to look at the room”
“Yes do come in Colin” she said amiably “I’m all ready for you”
“Thank you” he said and stepped into the hall
“Go up” she urged “Turn left at the top of the stairs and it’s the second door on the right, I’ll follow you up”
“Excellent” he said and Colin started up the stairs and Virginia followed him.
He followed her instructions and turned left but he opened the first door on the right by mistake and just as he was about to step inside Virginia shouted
“No not that one”
But the call came too late because he stepped inside the moment he pushed the door open but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away because standing in the middle of the room was an attractive young woman of a similar build to Miss Kirby, wearing a bra, pants and tights, and he had taken her by surprise before she’d finished dressing.

(Part 02)

The call from Victoria came too late, because Colin stepped over the threshold the moment he pushed the door open, but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away, because standing in the middle of the room was an attractive young woman of a similar build to Miss Kirby, wearing a bra, pants and tights, and he had taken her by surprise before she’d finished dressing.
“Oh God” she said frantically looking around for something to cover her embarrassment and becoming more and more flustered every second
“I’m so sorry” he said, apologizing for his stupidity as well as for embarrassing her
“Here use this” he added and handed her his coat
“Oh God” she said again snatching the coat from his hand and covering herself.
“I really am sorry” he said feebly as she pushed him out the door
“Oh dear” he said and turned to look at Virginia
“You’ve met my niece then” Virginia said

Molly Kirby was 30 years old, quite small and slim like her aunt and pretty and was staying with her aunt for a few days while she was getting over a messy break up.
And apart from the fact she had been caught in a state of near undress by a complete stranger and a man of the cloth to boot, she was rather taken by the look of her peeper and he was very apologetic and behaved very gentlemanly when he offered her his coat.
“And he had a Nice bum” she thought to herself

After the informal meeting in her bedroom there was a quite natural awkwardness between them, the problem was that they lived in the same house, on the same floor, next door to each other.
It was a large Victorian house but it was very difficult for him to get to his room without passing her room and thus bumping into Molly was unavoidable.
Not that he didn’t like seeing her, he did, very much, and as to bumping into her, he thought of little else, in fact as a Curate he had very ungodly thoughts about her, and the image of her in her underwear was burned into his brain.

But the status quo would have been maintained indefinitely had it not been for two unrelated events that occurred on the same day.
The first event was Colin having to administer the last rites to his own grandmother which left him at a very low ebb and the second was when Molly discovered that her ex-boyfriend was engaged to her best friend, or at least her former best friend.
On receiving the news Molly repaired to the Cross Keys to drown her sorrows where she tried her best to get very drunk very quickly but the pub closed before she succeeded so she went home.
Once she reached the front door she tried in vain for some time to unite her door key with the lock but after a few minutes as she struggled to achieve her aim the door opened and Colin was standing there as he was heading in the opposite direction.
There was a moment’s delay when they just stared at each other before Molly, who was much smaller than Colin, surprised him when she leapt up and kissed him full on the lips and before he knew what he was doing he was kissing her back.
He wasn’t sure if a curate should have been indulging in such behaviour but he thought she was a very good kisser, so apart from pausing long enough to pull her across the threshold and close the door, he carried on.
And the kissing marked new beginnings for them both in the village of Dulcet St Mary where in time he would become the Vicar and she would become his wife.

Mornington-By-Mere – (75) Double Trouble

(Part 01)

Dee and Elsa Larsen were twins, blue eyed, blonde and very gorgeous, Elsa was the older of the two by a few minutes, and stood five foot two while Dee was an inch shorter, and they lived in the quaint chocolate box English Village of Mornington-By-Mere, which was the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It’s a quaint and picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
Their home was in Military Row, at number 15 where they lived with their parents, Glen and Shelley, and they were just about to come of age.
They were not natives of the village and only moved to the village when Paige Turners, the firm their parents worked for moved to Mornington Field.
Apart from being twin sisters they were also the best of friends and did everything together which to be perfectly honest mainly concerned their interest in boys, and their leisure time was spent mainly in pursuit of the opposite sex but there were limitations, so sailing, mountain biking, orienteering, climbing, and the like were off the menu because basically Dee and Elsa were not the outdoorsy type and they were girlie girls.
They were not tomboys, they did not wear genderless fashion, and everything was very definitely feminine they wouldn’t be seen dead in baseball boots or work boots.
Not that they didn’t wear casual leisure wear but they always looked like girls.
The girls were gregarious, bubbly and outgoing and everybody liked them and they had no shortage of admirers but the two girls had a pact, and that was that if one sister met someone that they particularly liked, the other one had to approve, but ideally if one got one then so must the other.
Not that they came into contact with many likely contenders in Mornington, they liked the Village well enough but there wasn’t that much to do or indeed anyone to do it with when the occasion arose, that was until they discovered that the Potter boys had arrived.

The Potters had moved to Mornington in March when the company that their father worked for, Digitize Image Lab, moved from Northchapel.
It was a good time to move as the boys had finished school, Mark was 18 and set to leave for University in September and Shaun was two years younger and would be going to college.

Despite arriving in March the twins didn’t meet the boys until the end of June and the fact that they had lived in the same small village for the best part of four months without knowing that the others existed was something of a miracle.
They almost met on several occasions but the fates always seemed to intervene, the closest such near miss was at the Mornington Beer Festival where the twins disgraced themselves by getting drunk which led to them being frog marched home by their father minutes before the Potters left the main marquee.
The act of underage drinking and public inebriation earned the twins a grounding which kept them out of circulation until almost the end of June when fate had a change of heart and engineered their meeting instead.

(Part 02)

Despite the fact that they lived in a small village the long awaited first meeting between the Larsen girls and the Potter boys didn’t happen in Mornington but at the Seaside town of Sharpington-by-Sea, and even then they kept missing each other.
There was so much to do at Sharpington with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, the well maintained gardens, a pristine promenade, theatre and illuminations, plus all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.
Mark and Shaun were staying up at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park for the week and they were having a great time but the Sharpington Fun Park was a particular favourite.
It was the first purpose built amusement park to open in Britain, which was a proud boast for the locals.
The Fun Park had an assortment of rides, like the Rotor and the Wild Mouse, The Cyclone and the Morehouse Galloper, all very tame compared to a 21st century roller coaster but it was still fun and still popular with visitors and locals a like.
And on three occasions the Potters brothers and the Larsen twins were within ten feet of each other but were looking the other way.
The twins were only there for the day and went with their parents but as soon as they arrived they went their separate ways for the morning but met up for lunch on the seafront then they separated again until it was time for a visit to Bizzoni’s Ice Cream Parlour.

It was after ice creams that they spent an hour or so as a family and ended up on the crazy Golf and that was the moment while Glen Larsen was trying to putt through a moving windmill and into a clowns mouth that Dee and Elsa spotted the devastatingly good looking Potter brothers on the adjacent hole.
Mark and Shaun weren’t identical but they were clearly brothers and the girls thought they were absolutely gorgeous and as a result from that moment on they had their caps well and truly set.
There was never a moment’s argument as to who liked which brother they were instantly attracted to one each, which was great for their relationship.
The problem was they had never before been interested enough in a boy to make an approach and although they were instantly smitten they had absolutely no idea how to do anything about it.
They had never had to know because boys had always chased them and they just had to choose a suitable candidate and bat away the rest, they had never had to do any chasing themselves.
They were fidgeting uneasily as they both tried to think what to do because the Potters were two holes ahead of them and would be gone to God knew where before they were done.
And then just before it looked like the gorgeous young men were a lost cause they were rescued at the last possible second by of all people their mother Shelley.
“Hello boys” she said “What a coincidence running into you all the way over here”
The girls looked on with open mouths as their mum chatted casually with the boys and they chatted back and the girls thought they sounded as sexy as they looked.
She introduced them to Glen and then after about five minutes she said
“Oh and these two are Dee and Elsa”
“Hi” Mark said and in response Dee blushed and Elsa giggled

(Part 03)

On the drive home from Sharpington Shelley Larson was bombarded with questions from the twins about the Potters, and by the time they got back to Mornington they had extracted every ounce of information about them.

After the first encounter with them at the crazy golf the twins talked about the gorgeous Potter boys constantly, and they heartily approved of the other ones choice, but that was as far as it went because they didn’t know what to do next.

There were a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere road and Dulcets Lane which formed the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and Mark and Shaun Potter lived at number 3 Dulcet Mill Lane with their father Karl Mark and Shaun.
The Potters had only been in the village since April when the company he worked for, Digitize Image Lab, moved to Mornington Field from Northchapel.
It was very opportune timing because he had already decided before he found out about the move that he would move to pastures new so he and the boys could have a fresh start, because they all struggled to come to terms with the loss of their mother and wife, respectively, in the family home they had all shared.
Rose Potter was diagnosed with breast cancer in April of 2014 and finally succumbed to the disease in mid-August.
They had thought that with times healing hand things would return to some form of normality, but it didn’t work out that way and in reality everything in the house was a constant reminder of what they had lost, every stick of furniture, every picture, ornament and memento screamed at them, “she’s gone”, even the wallpaper and carpets joined in the chorus.
So they made the move and were all happy with the way things had turned out.

Mark was the eldest by 2 years, he was also two inches taller and more self-confidence than Shaun.
They were both athletically built with dark curly hair and blue eyes and although they were unaware of it Dee and Elsa had not gone unnoticed by the boys, but then how could they not have noticed them, they were beautiful after all.
But Mark was reluctant to get involved with someone so close to him starting University but he was definitely tempted, but in the end he resolved not to be proactive and just see what happened.

Dee and Elsa were also pleased that they had moved to the Village but they lived at the opposite end from where the girls lived and so it was unlikely that they would bump into each other by accident, so they would have to engineer such meetings.
Dee however wasn’t prepared to go searching, her philosophy was that he knew where she was and he would have to come and get her.
Elsa was having none of that kind of attitude, they had finally met two drop dead gorgeous boys that they both liked and she wasn’t going to sit at home waiting for a knock on the door that might never come.
So it was down to her to engineer a meeting where she could use her charms although in truth she became a stalker and Shaun Potter was her prey.

It was two weeks since the twins met the Potter boys in Sharpington and Dee became increasingly frustrated at the failure of Mark Potter to come knocking on her door.
While Elsa had little more success with her own tactic of stalking Shaun.
She carried a little note book of the times of his comings and goings, where he went and who he met but just when she was about to ambush him, someone would come along and spoil things.

Elsa’s chance to speak to Shaun finally came quite by chance one Sunday Morning as she was walking home after church.

(Part 04)

Elsa’s chance to speak to Shaun finally came quite by chance one Sunday Morning as she was walking home after church, Dee hadn’t gone as she was still sitting at home waiting for prince Charming to call by.
She had left her parents outside St Winifred’s and was walking along the riverside path towards the Old East Mill when Shaun came racing around the corner on his bike, at pace and nearly ran her over.
“Watch it” she said and jumped out of the way and he screeched to a halt
“Sorry Elsa” he said “I didn’t think”
He was in a hurry because he wanted to get to St Winifred before the service was over in order to see her, because that was the one time and place that he knew she would be.
He really liked her and unlike his brother he didn’t want to wait and see, but he had never had a girlfriend and he didn’t really think he stood a chance with her but he knew he had to try before someone else snapped her up.

She looked at his beautiful dark curls spilling down beneath his helmet, his eyes sparkled and his cheeks were ruddy from exertion.
Shaun had one foot on the floor and the other on the pedal and her eyes were fixed on the shape of his thigh and the firmness of his buttock and she was transfixed.
Then he caught her looking and she blushed scarlet and looked away.
“So why are you in such a hurry?” she asked
“Oh no reason” he lied
They then waited in silence hoping the other would speak,
Him fidgeting on the saddle and her shuffling her feet until he said
“Well I’d better get going”
“Oh ok” she said failing to hide her disappointment as he started to pedal away
“Bye” he said and she cursed under her breath, then she breathed in deeply and shouted after him
“Do you want to go to the pictures?”
He braked sharply and dropped the bike and ran back towards her.
“Yes, when?”
“Well, that depends” she said and he looked crestfallen
“On what?” he asked thinking the worst
“On when your brother asks my sister out” she replied and he laughed
“No problem” he retorted

“What are you looking so pleased about?” Mark asked as Shaun walked in the room
“I have a date” he replied
“With who?”
“Elsa Larsen” he said
“Really?” Mark said “I didn’t know you liked her”
“Oh I like her a lot” he said “I like everything about her”
“Really?”
“Yes” Shaun replied
“I feel much the same about her sister” Mark admitted
“Good, because now you have to go and ask her out” Shaun told him
“Alright bossy” he said “I’ll do it later”
“Now” Shaun insisted
“Later”
“You need to do it right now” he said “I don’t want you blowing my chances”
“Ok” he said and headed towards the front door with Shaun right behind him
“Why are you following me?” Mark asked
“To make sure you don’t chicken out” he replied

And that was how after having made the decision to wait to be asked Dee Larsen got her wish and despite his reservations Mark Potter had a girlfriend in the village when he went off to University.

Tuesday, 6 June 2017

Mornington-By-Mere – (74) Sixteen

(Part 01)

The quaint chocolate box English Village of Mornington-By-Mere, was the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale, which nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a quaint and picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
15 year old Matthew was one of the Smith clan, who were tenants at Smithfield Farm and had been for as long as anyone could remember, and as soon as he finished school he was going to take his place working on the land, and that day had finally come, the school year was over so he was on the way home by the usual route.
He left the Village School and walked towards Church Bridge and proceeded along the riverside path on the Northern Bank of the River Brooke with Mornington Field on his right and Manor Wood across the water on his left.
After the Wood stood the famous Mornington Brewery and immediately before the river changed direction, Dulcets Mill stood, one of the last three remaining Mornington Mills.
At the point the River turned sharply to the right he followed the path that threaded its way through the woods that bordered the western edge of Mornington Field and as he meandered his way along the path he heard a voice behind him.
“Wait for me Matt” it, said, “wait for me”
He turned around but he couldn’t see who it was
“Wait for me” they continued shouting, a little louder this time and then there was a crash as a schoolgirl came running around an oak tree and hurtled straight into him and they both ended up on the floor.
The schoolgirl was young Alexa Newbold
“Ouch” she said rubbing her left knee.

Alexa was a few months older than Matt and she was staying on in full time education and would be going to college followed by University but she wasn’t going to go before she had done what she needed to do.

“Are you ok?” he asked as he helped her to her feet.
“Just scrapped my knee a bit,” she said laughing
“I didn’t think I was that close to you”
She was a very pretty girl, five foot one with Jet-black hair and pale alabaster skin and she lived in Military Row with her family
“Happy birthday by the way” he said suddenly remembering it was her 16th birthday
“Thank you,” she said grinning because she didn’t know that he knew.
But Matt knew everything about her because he loved her and had done for as long as he could remember, but he would never tell her that because she was on a different path to him and as a farmer he wouldn’t be able to offer her anything and he certainly wouldn’t be able to compete with the kind of boys she was going to meet at University.
So he had resigned himself to the fact that she was unattainable.

(Part 02)

Alexa was still wearing her full school uniform consisting of black knee length socks, a black and white plaid skirt, black jacket, white blouse and a plaid tie and her knee was still bleeding so he fished out a hankie from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Use that” he said “that will help for the moment”
Alexa dabbed at the cut and winced as Matt looked for somewhere he could sit her down.
“Come on, come and sit down and I’ll clean it up” he said and directed her to a tree stump a few yards away where he sat her down and then he knelt down in front of her and produced a bottle of water from his bag.
“Are you glad we’ve broken up?” he asked
“Yes and no” she replied
He found her response a little strange but added
“Bad luck having to go to school on your birthday”
“Oh no it wasn’t so bad” she said
“Well Happy birthday sweet sixteen” he said and then he irrigated the wound with water and cleaned it with the hankie
“Ooh” Alexa winced as she sat perched on the tree stump
“Sweet sixteen and never been kissed”
She added and blushed
“You’re joking” he replied looking at her face and she blushed deeper and averted her eyes.
“So what are you doing for your birthday?” he asked by way of changing the subject
“Well Mum and Dad are taking me and to my favourite restaurant in Shallowfield on Saturday night” she said very pleased with herself.
“But I was hoping that today, we could do something together”
“You and me?” he asked in disbelief
“Yes” she replied and reached forward and put a hand on each side of his face before leaning forward and kissing him.
Matt wasn’t expecting that, the kiss came right out of left field it only lasted a few moments and when their lips parted she said
“Now I’m a sweet sixteen who has been kissed”
He gave a heavy sigh then leant into her saying
“Again please”
“Oh yes again” she agreed and their lips met again this time in a longer more languid union and when she broke away he sighed again.
Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that the gorgeous Alexa Newbold would want him, she was beautiful, funny and smart and he was just a farm boy.
He reached into his pocket and took out a small package.
“Here you are birthday girl” he said to her “I have a birthday gift for you”
“I thought I’d just had my present” she said and giggled
“What do you mean?”
“This is the best Birthday present I could possibly have received” she replied and they kissed again.
When the kiss was over she opened the little package to reveal a small embossed box and inside that was a small Gold locket and inside that there was some engraving which read “Sweet sixteen”.
And the moment she read it she threw herself at him and showered him with kisses
“I love it, I love it” she said and hugged him and after a moment or two she said coyly
“Can I have another present?”
“Are you sure you want another one?”
“I think so” She replied
“Well if you’re not bothered” he began “I’ll go and find Mandy Price she won’t turn me down”
“Don’t you dare” she said putting her arms around him “Loose lips can find someone else to snog, you’re mine now”

Downshire Diary – (72) French Cuisine

Danny Popkin was not looking forward to another boring business dinner the latest in a long line of such wasted evenings and at 35 years of age he was really looking for something more in his social life, in fact he was actually looking for more in his life.
Certainly something more than just another fabulous restaurant for yet another expensive meal or as they say another “dining experience” at someone else’s expense.
He pulled up outside the latest restaurant, this time The Runcible Spoon in Purplemere, a place of great renown, but he still had a feeling of dread, despite the great venue, wonderful cuisine and the great ambience, it was just as he expected, more boring business talk, more boring company, basically more people who like him didn’t really want to be there.
But after the pre-dinner drinks, quelle surprise, out of the blue and quite unexpected, une jeune fille, and how pretty she was, la belle fille, Florence Clerembeax, the niece of the financial director from the Paris office, a petite well-tanned girl with huge brown eyes and long hair the colour of burnt caramel.
“Quelle jolie fillee” Jason thought
“Do you mind if she joins us?” her father asked
As if they would mind, a bunch of boring business men having dinner or a bunch of boring business men and a beautiful young woman having dinner.
No contest as far as Jason was concerned because he was instantly besotted by the beautiful young woman.
When the waiter came, the American next to him ordered a steak, well done
“And for you monsieur?” he asked Jason
“I’ll take her, any way she comes” he said in his head but when he looked across at Florence she was smiling as if she knew what impure thoughts filled his head about a girl 12 years younger than him.
“I’ll have the same” he said ordering something he didn’t really want, to cover his embarrassment over his impure thoughts about what he did want.
His thoughts extended to every aspect of her, and what she would look like as he peeled through the layers of silk, satin and lace.
He wanted her to tantalise all his senses, sight, sound, smell, touch and taste,
His sight had already been fed but he wanted more, her sound was sweet and her accent seductive, the smell of her perfumed scented skin was exotic and intoxicating, and touch which had been restricted to a hand shake and so he felt her electrifying touch on his skin but the taste was as yet unfulfilled.
But all through the meal knowing looks were exchanged and every time their eyes met he felt like a schoolboy again, and still he was convinced she could read his mind.
They laughed and joked and pretty much ignored the rest of the table, but all too soon the evening was over and everyone went their separate ways and Jason was deflated as he got into his taxi.
Until that is he reached his Hotel and sitting in reception of the Worsted Viper Hotel was a smiling Florence.
“How did you kno…” he began but she silenced him with her lips and he finally got the taste of her.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (72) Francesca’s Garden of Delights

(Part 01)

Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram was involved with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, soon to be divorced Carrington Chase educated woman, called Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.

They became involved after three chance meetings, two on a train and the third more significant one was on the Promenade in Sharpington, where he came upon her small huddled figure on the bench ahead of him in some distress and after some tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.

Since that night they had had a non-physical relationship and on the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend some time together they always made the most of it, sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her husband David but that she was staying the night.

On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create opportunities and on occasion it took planning.
But there were even rarer occasions on which there was a combination of the two.

Such as the time they met at the Clayton Manor Hotel on the night of her sisters 4th wedding.
Which began with him gate crashing the wedding reception and ended with him knocking on the door of Francesca’s door and when he was sure the coast was clear.
“Room service” he called and the door opened
“Yes please” she replied and pulled him into the room by his belt and the second the door closed behind him she pinned him to the door and kissed him.

They were still in her bed at 11 am the next morning and would have stayed there all day had she not had to get back for the children.
“That was a masterly piece of planning madam” he said and kissed her as they cuddled under the duvet.
“Do you like all the sneaking around?” She asked
“I like the prize I get for all the sneaking around” he replied
“Do you find it exciting?” Francesca asked
“I suppose so” he said “What about you?”
“I do find it exciting but it’s the anticipation of you that’s the most exciting” she replied
“Why do you ask?” he said
“I need to know if you’d still want me if we didn’t need to sneak” she said and then there was slience
“Are you suggesting we tell everyone?” He asked
“Yes” she said quietly averting her eyes
“I want that more than anything” he replied “I want everyone to know, I want to shout it from the roof tops”
“Really?” she asked with surprise “truly?”
“Don’t you?” he asked and she started to cry
“Whats wrong?” he asked
“I want that too” She sobbed

(Part 02)

Two weeks later, exactly one year to the day after they first met, the long secret affair was no longer a secret as Paul and Francesca told their friends and family.
An announcment which didn’t go down at all well as the news was not well received by anyone.
Her friends, though secretly jelous of her having a toy boy, told her she was behaving foolishly, her family universal condemend her as ridiculous and her ex husband said she was an embarrassment.
Only her sister Adrienne was at all understanding, but she was on her fourth husband and so her judgement regarding relationships was considered iffy at best.
Paul faired little better, his mates all congratulated him for scoring with a milf but told him in no uncertain terms what a dick head he was for dating someone 12 years older than him and someone with children to boot.
His Dad thought he was a bit of a lad and his Mum thought he was digusting.
As a result of the reaction they got, their social circle was severely reduced so they had to be content with each others company, which was no hardship.
But on the plus side Francesca’s children were delighted with the situation and took to Paul imediately and so they became an instant family.

As the months went by and it became self evident that their relationship was not just a passing fad they were gradually accepted, albeit grudgingly, but it was almost a year before they were able to have a weekend to themselves thanks to Francesca’s mum taking the kids for the weekend.
But as luck would have it he had to go into work on Saturday morning, much to their annoyance, but he was expected to be home by two oclock at the latest.

It was a glorious day and very hot, especially for midday but not as hot as he thought the love of his life Francesca was.
He was more than an hour earlier getting to the house than he expected, so he let himself in using his front door key, which not for the first time made him smile.
He was glad he was home early he was looking forward all morning to making love to her and along with his feeling of love he felt immensely proud to be her boyfriend, and wanted to be even more.

He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.
Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.
He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.

(Part 03)

He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.
Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.
He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.
“Whats the matter?” He asked and Francesca jumped and then looked over her shoulder.
“Oh Paul” she exclaimed and got up and hugged him
“Whats wrong sexy?” he asked
“I’m not though” she said hiding her face
“You’re not what?” Paul asked
“I’m not sexy” Francesca said softly
“Well I think you are” he asured her
“Really?” she asked unconvinced still hiding her face
“Really” he replied
“You don’t think I’m dirty?” she asked
“No” he said firmly
“You don’t think that I’m a slutty milf?” Francesca asked
“No, never, why would you even ask that?” he asked and Francesca didn’t reply
“Has someone said something?” he added and she nodded
“Who was it?”
“It doesn’t matter who it was” she replied quietly
“Well screw them whoever it was” he said “because I’m in love with a beautiful woman who just happens to be 12 years older than me and she is the sexiest woman I have ever known, so they will just have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere”
Francesca slowly lifted her head and looked up over her shoulder at him and smiled.
“Hi beautiful” Paul said and gave her a long gentle kiss
“Do you really think I’m sexy?” she asked
“Very sexy” he said and kissed her passionately and when he had finished he asked
“Do you feel sexy yet?”
“Hmmm” she murmured
“I was hoping you would” he said
“What else are you hoping for?” she asked coyly
“Well firstly I would like to make love to you” he said and kissed her again
“I might be agreeable to that” she said
“And then I would like to become your second husband” he said and kissed her mouth.
“What?” she asked
“I would like you to become Mrs Francesca Ingram”
“You want to marry me?” she asked aghast
“Yes, very much” he said “So what’s the answer?”
“Well” she said and as she walked towards the French doors she discarded her bikini, and as she stood on the threshold with her beautiful body on display
“I think we should go upstairs and discuss our engagement” she said and ran inside giggling.
“I take it that’s a yes then” he called as he ran inside after her.