Saturday, 5 December 2020

Uncanny Love Tales – (003) Girl in The Floral Dress

 

The day began early for Jerry as he reluctantly left the arms of his lover, it was first light and the dawn chorus were in full voice.

His full name was Edwin Jeremiah Dootson, which he always thought was like something out of Charles Dickens novel, a villain more than likely knowing his luck, and he hated his name, Edwin was so old fashioned, so he used his middle name Jeremiah which he didn’t like much better so he shortened it to Jerry and everyone assumed falsely that it was short for Jeremy, but he didn’t enlighten them.

As he prepared to slip out of her bed his companions rolled over and put her arm across his chest.

“Don’t go Jez” she implored

“I have to Zyggy” he replied “I’ve got a long drive ahead of me”

They were in her University digs, which was a room in a house she shared with three friends.

“Oh, stay a bit longer” she begged, and he kissed her on the forehead

“I wish I could darling” he said, and she kissed his chest

He really did want to stay with her, but he had a wedding to go to, a family wedding that required his attendance, on pain of death, according to his mother.

Before getting out of bed he picked up her phone from the bedside table and tapped in his own number and sent a text to himself so they then both had each other’s numbers.

 

He had only met her the day before and he’d fallen head over heels for her.

Jerry arrived in the Seaside town of Sharpington-By-Sea on Thursday for a stag do and he had met Zyggy, who was wearing a floral dress, on the following morning at a coffee shop on the pier.

He was preparing for the long drive home with an Americana to go and she was in front of him ordering a Macchiato, as they waited for their orders they got talking and sat and drank their coffees at a table outside and ended up spending the whole day together, and the night.

They hit it off immediately and it was like they’d known each other all their lives.

 

On the long drive home Jerry couldn’t get Zyggy out of his thoughts.

It was funny how thing worked out he hadn’t gone to Sharpington to meet someone, in fact if truth be told he hadn’t really wanted to go at all, he wasn’t particularly close to the groom, but he was family and according to his mother that was what counted.

But having met someone, which was unexpected in itself, everything that followed was not only unexpected it was completely out of character.

He was not the sort of person to do things on a whim, he was an accountant and therefore by definition a planner, very definitely not a make it up as you go along kind of guy.

Nor was he the sleep with the first girl you meet type of guy so the event’s in Sharpington the day and night before were quite significant for him, and he hoped for her also.

Because he was convinced, she was “the one”, as she fitted “the template” perfectly.

He had carried the template with him in his brain almost since the moment of his sexual awakening.

Long brown hair falling across her shoulders in generous waves.

Hazel eyes, intelligent, warm and full of familiarity that screwed tight shut when she laughed.

A pretty face, which hers was, pretty but also full of imperfections, an aquiline nose, a small scar above her right eye, a lopsided smile and freckled cheeks, an exquisitely defined jawline as if chiselled from marble and a strong and resolute chin.

She was very tall, almost as tall as him in her heels and he was six-foot two, and slim as a willow and lithe as a dancer.

But all of that was superficial, just an accident of heritage, what made Zyggy special and by extension “the one” was that she was funny, intelligent, insightful, caring, romantic and grounded

In fact, she ticked every box, plus numerous other boxes he didn’t even know existed.

Jerry wasn’t exactly sure where that template came from, but he had always had it and he had begun to wonder if he would ever meet the girl to fit it or if indeed such a girl even existed, but that was before he met the girl in the floral dress.

 

He got back to his flat in plenty of time to change for the wedding and drive to Childean to pick up his mum, who was wearing a spectacularly ridiculous hat.

The wedding at St Andrew’s Church passed off without a hitch and the reception at the Dancingdean Spa Hotel was very lavish, but he spent much of that happy day in Childean wishing he was somewhere else and he cursed his luck at having to be there.

“Why did I have to meet her this weekend of all weekends” he pondered, but then if it hadn’t been that weekend, he wouldn’t have been in Sharpington in the first place.

“Why didn’t I invite her to the wedding then?” he asked himself

“No that wouldn’t have worked either” he concluded as he wasn’t ready to introduce her to his mum, he thought that might frighten her away.

He decided to just feel grateful that he had met her at all and to look forward to the moment he would see her again.

 

However there was a fly in the ointment because although the wedding all went off according to plan there was from his point of view a distinct downside on the whole day and that was that he couldn’t get a phone signal which drove him crazy so he wasn’t able to get through to Zyggy at all.

 

On Sunday there was a succession of family farewells and hug fests as he waved goodbye to three generations of his extended family and after the weekend was over it was back to work in the thrilling world of accountancy on Monday morning.

It was a particularly tedious start to the week as he began by trying to get hold of Zyggy on the phone again, but he had no more good fortune than he had done at the weekend.

In fact, all week long they had kept missing each other on the phone and for the first half of it they communicated solely by voice mail, if you could call that communication.

Zyggy was in lectures all week and had several approaching deadlines and for Jerry it was the financial year end for the company he worked for, so Jerry was having to work late every night and spend a disproportionate amount of time in meetings with other accountants, department managers and auditors.

He was reassured however that she seemed to be as anxious to talk to him as he was to talk to her.

If it hadn’t been such a hellish week at work he would have driven back down to the house in Sharpington to see her, but that wasn’t an option, firstly because he was just too busy, but the main reason was because she wasn’t there, she had gone home so she could work on her assignments without any distractions.

 

By Thursday he was getting increasingly frustrated by his failure to make contact with her and he could tell by her tone that she was too.

Then he had a brain wave and he texted her his email address and then he cursed himself and his stupidity for not thinking of it earlier.

He just hoped she would see it in the same light as he did, and they could finally converse and makes plans that didn’t consist of talking to each other’s voice mail.

Luckily he needn’t have worried, Zyggy thought it was a great idea and wished that she had thought of it and then the email traffic flowed between them and the volume and content was quite epic and were tantamount to love letters and woven amongst the sentimental words of love were the minutiae of the everyday, the mundane and the ordinary that would make up the fabric of their budding relationship. 

But despite the fluidity of the email traffic they were still no nearer actually seeing each other face to face.

 

On Saturday Jerry had to work a 12-hour day to put the finishing touches to the yearend accounts and on Sunday it was his mum’s birthday, so he had planned to spend the whole day with her.

He had at least succeeded in talking to Zyggy and it turned out she was tied up all weekend too, but they were hopeful that the following week would offer an opportunity for them to actually get together.

 

Jerry picked his mum up from Childean on Sunday morning and took her to St Andrew’s Church and afterwards out for lunch to The Huntsman’s Lodge restaurant and from there he drove her home and then went inside to have tea with her.

“Put the kettle on Edwin” she said, and he winced at the sound of the name, but he duly obliged.

While he was in the kitchen there was a knock at the door.

His mum answered the it and an exchange of exited chatter ensued, he recognised the other voice as that of Aunty Edith, she wasn’t really an auntie just a family friend who was particularly close to his mum.

Jerry hadn’t seen her since he was at school, but throughout his childhood she and her family had featured heavily.

“I thought I would just pop in and wish you a happy birthday dear” Edith said

“And I brought Alex along, she’s just back from University”

Jerry’s heart sank, he remembered Alex very well, she was younger than him by about 3 years and she was a clumsy gawky girl who used to trail after him, and she had been a blight on his childhood summer holidays.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to see you Alex” his mum said

“Edwin is in the kitchen”

Just at that moment Jerry got his first sight at the young woman called Alex, narrow hipped, round pert buttocks, small breasts, firm to the touch and soft-silky skin, and that last part wasn’t wishful thinking on his part either, he knew this to be true and not to be a fanciful notion, because it was her bed he had reluctantly vacated the previous weekend, and as if to dispel any doubts she was wearing the same floral dress she wore when they first met.

“I thought it would be nice for them to see each other again” Edith said

It was nice to see her, he thought but not as nice as the last time they met.

So, it was Alex, Alexandra Zygmunt, he didn’t realise the Alex of his childhood was the same girl who called herself Zyggy.

So, it turned out they really had known each other for ever, that’s why she seemed to fit the template so well, because she was the template.

“So, you’re Edwin” Zyggy said

“And you’re Alex” Jerry responded

“It’s nice to see you again” she said formally “After all these years”

“Yes, perhaps we might go out while you’re home and catch up” he replied and then whispered

“Did you know?”

Zyggy just shook her head in the negative and said

“Yes, that would be nice”

Friday, 4 December 2020

Uncanny Christmas Tales – (009) The Avuncular and the Christmas stocking

 

Three months had passed since Hannah Castle and I had made love in my room at the Cleddau Bridge Hotel and two days short of three months since she said she wasn’t sure we could be together.

Not that she didn’t love me or enjoy being with me, and I can say without being boastful that it wasn’t because she didn’t enjoy making love with me.

Nor did she think that was a mistake, a moment of madness or because she had drunk too much.

“I don’t regret it for a second” she said as we lay entwined beneath the duvet “I just have doubts”

Hannah just wasn’t sure if she could or should give over her heart, soul and life to a man 12 years older than herself.

I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed and I wasn’t happy about it but nor was I angry with her, in fact I agreed with her to a point, and I wanted her to be sure as much as she did.

After all I had no words to convince a 29 year old woman to give her life to a man the wrong side of 40, and nor would I have wished to use them if they were in my possession.

 

“I love you Tom, but I just have to be certain sure” she said the moment before she drove away it was heart-breaking to watch her drive away because I had no such doubts.

For me that first night together was the blissful culmination of eight years of hope and desire, not just the love making but to hear my declaration of love returned in word and delicious deed.

It had been pretty much love at first sight for me, but then she was a beautiful sight to behold, but for her it was a more gradual falling and one that she desperately fought against tooth and claw whereas I simply surrendered to her.

 

Even before our chance meeting at the Hotel Hannah had agreed to take a three month secondment in Milford Haven where she could be close to her sister and the twins, so she suggested they take that time to think, and in that time she would either get over me or know for certain sure I was the one.

 

While she was away I convinced myself almost on a daily basis that it was over, and rightly so I thought at times.

If the worst came to the worst I consoled myself with the thought that I would always have the memory of that wonderful weekend when my love for her was finally validated.

In my darkest moments I did question if it was a moment of madness that brought Hannah to my bed, but I was glad for that madness if that’s what it was.

Though if Hannah did resolve that it was a mistake and it was over I would at least have the memory of that wonderful weekend to sustain me forever.

Personally I prefer to think it was fate that brought us together on that wonderful weekend.

 

I would have liked to have exchanged the occasional text or email with her, but Hannah had asked for total separation.

All I could do was throw myself into my work totally and fill my every waking moment with thoughts of anything and everything that wasn’t her.

Impossible of course, but if in the unlikely event that I could exclude her from my thoughts I couldn’t stop her invading my dreams, and when I slept I dared to dream, so in the small hours of the sleepless night I resorted to the only thing that prevented me from being driven insane.

I wrote in a diary, I called it a dream diary, it was where I wrote every detail, every thought that filled my troubled sleep nightly,   thoughts of love for the girl of my dreams, and the closer the end of the three months got, the more intense the dreams became and evermore vivid with each passing day.

 

It was the day before Christmas Eve when I got the long awaited phone call, and I took a deep breath and hit the button.

“Hello, Tom Flood” I said

“Hey Tom” she said

“Hannah?” I asked “God it’s good to hear your voice”

“Ditto” Hannah replied, “Where are you?”

“I’m in London” I replied, “Are you still in Milford Haven?”

“No, I’m back home” she replied, “When are you back?”

“Tonight” I replied

“Can we meet?” Hannah asked

“Yes, of course” I said, “Have you made a decision?”

“Yes, I have” she replied

“And?” I enquired trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice

“I don’t want to say on the phone” she answered “I want to do it face to face”

“Ok” I said not knowing if that meant it would be good or bad

“Come to the house tonight” I said

“What time?” she asked

“Around seven” I replied “Let yourself in if I’m late; you know where the key is”

“Ok, I’ll see you tonight then Tommy” she said

“Ok, bye”

 

The journey out of London was an absolute mare and consequently I was late getting home and it was nearly 8 o’clock when I drove onto the drive.

Since her phone call my stomach had been in absolute knots and arriving home late didn’t untangle it in the least.

The lights were on in the house so Hannah had let herself in I only hoped she was still there and hadn’t got tired of waiting.

As I sat in the pre-Christmas traffic I tried to ring her to warn her of my delay but my phone died.

So I sat on the drive trying to summon up the courage to go in, I was so desperate to know her answer but equally terrified of what it might be, yes or no.

“Yes” meaning she was sure, and she would give all of herself to me unreservedly

Or “No” and we would never be together.

I reran the earlier conversation in my head over and over again and tried to read between the lines to find some hidden meaning or some indication as to her decision, but I was none the wiser. 

I slowly opened the front door and stepped in.

“Hi Hannah” I called “I’m sorry I’m late, traffic was hell”

No answer, so I supposed she must have got fed up of waiting after all.

“Shit” I exclaimed and took off my coat, but as I hung it on the peg in the hall, I noticed an unfamiliar coat already hanging there.

“She is here” I said, but where? Where was she exactly?

I hung my coat and walked into the lounge and that’s when I knew.

I knew because I saw the black stockings hanging from the mantel anchored beneath a Christmas candle so I knew where to find her, and stood on the mantel next to the candle was a Christmas card; I opened it and read the words

“Happy Christmas Tommy

All my love

Hannah”

Beneath her signature there appeared to be an abundance of the obligatory small x’s but on closer examination each kiss was in fact the word “Yes” and so I had my answer and my dreams were fulfilled.

Uncanny Love Tales – (026) An Avuncular and his Mentee

 

It was towards the end of September and I was sat in the lounge bar of the Cleddau Bridge Hotel in Pembrokeshire enjoying a pint when she walked in, I didn’t recognise her at first and I had to do a bit of double take.

She was still as beautiful as ever but her lustrous brown hair that used to be cut in a bob now flowed in brunette waves over her narrow shoulders and the business suit she customarily used to wear had been replaced by faded denim jeans, a pink top and a long flowing cardigan cut in the style of an Afghan coat with fake fur trim and bright brocade panels.

Hannah Castle looked so different from the young woman I had last seen 18 months earlier at our mutual friend Gary Yap’s Chinese New Year party.

Her eyes were sharp and intelligent behind her gold rimmed spectacles that sat on her aquiline nose, and with her finely chiselled features she was the attractive side of beautiful but only for the fact she wasn’t wearing a scrap of make up.

But despite the hair, the clothes and a lack of makeup the eyes and the smile could not be disguised.

It was a case of “what you saw was what you got” with Hannah just as it was the first day she walked into the office straight out of University.

That was eight years earlier and as the old man of the team at 33 I adopted the role of the avuncular and took her under my wing and showed her the ropes, and of course try as I might not to, and despite the 12 year age difference I fell in love with her.

There was no double take for Hannah, she recognised me instantly and beamed a broad smile and I realized as she walked towards me I was still in love with her.

“Tommy Flood!” she said “What are you doing here?”

She was never tall, but in her flat shoes she had to stand on tip toes and I had to stoop so we could properly embrace. 

“I had to see a client in Haverfordwest” I said “it ran on later than expected so I decided to put up here for the night”

In truth I always liked booking meeting late on a Friday and then I could stay at a local hotel for the night, two if it suited.

“Not Clive Morgan?” she said “I’ve been trying to nick him off you for two years”

“I know, keep your hands off, Morgan’s is my pension”

I said and we both laughed

“Anyway, what about you?” I asked “What brings you here?”

“My sister lives in Milford Haven” Hannah replied “and she’s just had twins”

“Wow Aunty Hannah” I said “that still doesn’t explain why you’re here”

“Because I’ve only been an aunty for five days and I’m exhausted”

She said and slumped down in her chair

“Oh dear” I said “No stamina, you youngsters”

“Honestly if I don’t get a good night’s sleep before I drive home I won’t make it” she explained

“So this is as far as you got?” I asked

“I so need a good night’s sleep” Hannah said and hugged the cushion to her chest and I was so jealous of that cushion

“Do you think you might stay awake long enough to have dinner?”

I asked

“It depends who’s paying” Hannah answered peering over the top of a cushion.

“My treat” I said and it really was a treat to see Hannah again and I knew in that moment I was hopelessly in love with her.

 

My hand was shaking as I was stood at the bathroom sink to shave and looked at my reflection.

Who was I trying to kid, since I’d last seen her 18 months earlier she hadn’t aged a day while I looked as if I’d aged 10 years, I stood less chance of getting than ever.

Despite my misgivings I shaved and showered and made the best of what I had, such as it was, and went downstairs to the bar to wait for her.  

When I got there she was already sitting at the bar perched on a barstool waiting for me.

Hannah was still wearing jeans, but she now wore a white smock top decorated with tiny pink roses and she was made up to perfection and was already halfway through a large glass of white wine.

“Hi” I said as I leant in and kissed her cheek.

As I lingered by her cheek, perhaps a little longer than I should have, I noticed the smell of her hair, which was freshly washed and was subtly scented with the fragrance of apples, while her skin exuded the aroma of coconut and I was in such close proximity to her that my senses were assailed by the scent of just a little too much Channel, which was unusual for her.

She was always subtle, or at least she had been.

“You look lovely” I said when I had come up for air.

“And you smell good enough to eat” I added to myself

“This is the only thing I had left that didn’t smell of baby sick” She confessed “but to make doubly sure I doused myself with perfume”

Well that cleared up that little mystery.

“You smell delicious” I said “not a hint of baby sick”  

“Honestly?” she asked

“Honestly” I replied just as I caught the barman’s eye “Do you want another?”

“Hmm yes please” she replied and drained her glass

When the drinks appeared we made our way to the restaurant it was a walk we had done many times before.

It was a favourite of mine and we had stayed at the Hotel many times before and eaten in the restaurant more often than not.

But that was in the days when I was mentoring her in my avuncular role.

As we ate we talked about the old days and the people we both knew and how both our careers were going.  

However what I really wanted to talk about was her, the personal stuff, what she had been up to in her life over the 18 months since we had last met and the two years since we worked together.

“What about you?” she asked taking me by surprise

“What?” I replied

“What about you?” she repeated this time with more than a hint of a slur “are you spoken for”

To my amusement I watched as she appeared to rerun the question in her head and seemed alarmed by the realization of what she had actually said

“What I meant to say is… um… err… are you… erm…”

It amused me to watch her struggle and getting more flustered but I decided to put her out of her misery.

“I’m still single”

“Oh” she responded trying to appear indifferent “still not met the right girl?

“I wouldn’t say that exactly” I replied and didn’t elaborate, the truth of the matter was I had met the right girl but she didn’t want me.

“What about you?” I asked

“Still footloose and fancy free” Hannah replied

Dinner came and went as did desert and all the time our glasses were refreshed, but it wasn’t until we were having liqueurs that I plucked up the courage to say what was on my mind.

“I’ve really missed you”

She seemed both surprised and pleased by the revelation and I wondered if she heard me correctly or if it was just the wines effect on her processing ability

“I’m sorry” she replied

“Why did you go?” I asked “I never understood why you left”

“I had to” she replied earnestly

“But why?” I asked

“Because I knew how you felt about me” Hannah confessed

“You knew?” I asked aghast

“Yes”  

“You knew and you said nothing?” I asked angrily and she nodded

“That was cruel” I said and then there was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as the waiter cleared the empty glasses from the table, and when he had gone she said

“I thought it was for the best”

The waiter hovered just out of earshot as we were the last two diners and he obviously wanted us gone.

“I think we have out stayed our welcome” I said and got up and Hannah followed suit

“Goodnight” I said to the waiter and headed towards reception

“Let me explain” Hannah said as she trotted behind me but I ignored her and pressed on along the corridor but she caught me up as I stopped to allow an elderly lady to go through the fire doors.

“I thought if I put some space between us, you would stop caring about me” she said from behind me and I span round on her

“You thought my feelings were so fickle, so insincere that they would just evaporate away if I couldn’t see you?”

“No” she said crossly

“I did it because I thought mine would”

“What?” I said doubting my own hearing

“I left because I was falling for you” she said

“And did it help?” I asked

“No” she said and fell in to my arms “I fell for you anyway”

“So you made us both unhappy” I said gently

“Yes” Hannah replied and began to cry

“Don’t cry honey” I said and she looked up at me through tear filled eyes and I kissed her, a kiss I had longed for, and dreamt of for eight years, and I was not disappointed.

 

After our long awaited magical first kiss we walked hand in hand to the door of my room where we kissed again.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open, Hannah paused in the doorway.

“Before we go any further I have a confession to make” she said

“You don’t have to say anything honey” I replied

“I really do” she insisted

“Ok” I replied a little concerned at what might follow

Hannah took a deep breath and blurted out

“I haven’t shaved my legs”

JANE

 


Slenderly petite in stature

Adorned in shades of pastel nature

Hair the hue of copper red

Held with ribbon atop her head

 

Beneath her crimson fringe she views

Through shining eyes of brightest blue

With smiling confidence, she speaks

Though with a blush upon her cheeks

 

Her lips soft pink and parted slightly

Aglow with luster and smiling brightly

She moves with elegance and grace

On dainty feet from place to place

 

Ivory hands of delicate softness

Fine fingers move with subtle deftness

No ring adorns her left-hand finger

No marriage for this sweet joy bringer

 

Her eyes light up this radiant beauty

Her mouth turns up at corner cutely

Her countenance becomes breathtaking

It stops my heart but not from breaking

 

So, who’s this angel you enquire?

Who’s this paragon of sweet desire?

So, who’s this angel you ask again?

Why the angels name is simply Jane

 

An angel true from heaven above

Sent to touch my life with love

This capturer of hearts divine

I hope one day to make her mine

Uncanny Christmas Tales – (017) The Good Life - Silly, But It's Fun

 

For those who are visiting from another planet the Good Life, Written by John Esmonde and Bob Larbey was about a man who, on reaching his fortieth birthday, decides to give up the rat race and becomes self-sufficient.

The man having the midlife crisis is Tom Good (Richard Briers), who with the help and support of his long-suffering wife Barbara, (Felicity Kendal) turns his detached Surbiton home, into an urban farm.

This doesn't go down too well with their good friends and neighbours, Jerry Leadbetter (Paul Eddington) and his snooty wife Margot, (Penelope Keith).

The Christmas episode, “Silly, But It's Fun”, first broadcast 26th December 1977 is in my opinion the funniest Christmas sitcom ever made.

Most Christmas sitcoms highlight the most negative aspects of the day creating a kind of nightmarish microcosm of family life at Christmas.

The Good Life was the story of contrasts, with the Good’s making the best of the meagre resources they had, while the Leadbetter’s just bought the best of everything and lots of it.

In “ Silly, But It's Fun” Margo ordered Christmas to be delivered from Harrods on Christmas Eve but refused delivery when the tree was six inches shorter than the one, she had ordered.

As she rejected the tree, she also rejected everything else, including Jerry’s gin, under the impression that Harrods would redeliver Christmas including a tree of the requisite height for her later that day.

She was sadly mistaken and on Christmas Day she had to phone around cancelling all their Christmas engagements under the pretext that Jerry has Chicken pox.

Jerry was unperturbed at having political chicken pox but horrified when he discovered that there was no more gin.

Enter the Goods, who save the day by inviting the Leadbetter’s to their house for the day and a good time was had by all, they all got plastered on pea pod burgundy and played silly party games.

The moral of the tale being that you can’t buy Christmas you have to make it yourself.

 


Thursday, 3 December 2020

Uncanny Love Tales – (002) The Bitter Triangle

 

They were in the bedroom of Karensa’s cottage and were redressing.

“Where does she think you are?” she asked

“I told her I needed a walk to get some inspiration” he replied

“A lie then” She retorted bitterly

“Well I think what we just did was pretty inspirational” Bob said gesturing toward the bed.

“What a characteristically glib response” Karensa responded disappointedly

 

Karensa Topping was a nurse and had been for ten years and she met Bob Swansborough when she started nursing his wife Ellie, although in truth it was more of a re-acquaintance.

They had briefly dated briefly in their school days before the spark was lit between Bob and Ellie.

But when Bob’s wife was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumour the bitter triangle was completed when they began an affair.  

 

By the time Karensa was standing in her bedroom doing up her bra, the affair had lasted for six weeks. 

But she found the guilt was consuming her as much as the tumour was consuming Ellie’s brain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you Kaz that was a pretty memorable afternoon exertion” Bob said

“I’m glad you thought it was memorable Bob because that was the last time” “What?” he exclaimed

“I feel so guilty I can’t carry on” Kerensa said

“This betrayal is unbearable; Ellie is my friend”

“And what, you think the guilt will ease if I was to leave her?”

“Leave her?” she said “I don’t want you to leave her, we would tear each other apart within a year. Every time we looked at each other it would be a constant reminder of what we had done, to an innocent”

“But I love you” he said

“I love you too but how long do you think we would stay in love if we continue to betray her” Karensa countered

“So, what was all that about” he said pointing at the bed again

“Your last hurrah” she replied

He remained silent while she finished dressing then he said

“Then she must never know we did this”

“Seriously?” Kerensa said “you really imagine that she doesn’t know?”

Kerensa picked up her bag “make sure you lock up when you leave”

The Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa – The Christmas Party

 

The beautiful Downshire village of Clerembeax St Giles was situated to the west of Abbeyvale located between Grace Hill and Bushy Down and on the outskirts was the Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa.

It was once the home the Clerembeax’s, who arrived in Downshire following the Norman conquests and stayed for a thousand years before the name died out following the death of the reclusive Marcus Clerembeax at the age of 96.

The current owner was Yvonne Labuschagne, who decided to open it as a Hotel and Spa.

The Spa was a good attraction, but it was crucial for them to maintain a high occupancy rate, however things were tough in the Hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Palace needed to offer something extra to attract the guests, apart from the Spa. 

So, they put on novelty weekends, such as “Murder Mysteries” and in addition, they had a sizable Ballroom which was used for special occasions, high days and holidays, which boosted occupancy and Spa numbers at the same time, Christmas being a prime example, when there was great demand and grand Christmas function took place.

 

One of the guests at such an event was forty-seven years old Eric Price, who was widowed three years earlier, and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.

In fact, it all started at his wife’s funeral where he was buttonholed by two well-presented mourners who made it perfectly clear he could avail himself of them if he chose to do so, which he did not.

But three years after his dear wife was laid to rest, and only after repeatedly rebuffing the endless advances of even the most attractive of the local pursuing vultures, did he finally decide, out of desperation and loneliness to dip his toe in the water and began to entertain the possibility that he might once again share his life with another soul.

His friends suggested he start internet dating but that was a step to far in his opinion, he wasn’t going to try something if his heart wasn’t in in it.

His friends continued trying to persuade him to try it nonetheless but then one day he met Charlotte Euringer at a mutual friend’s garden party.

 

Now they were attending a party of a different kind and his hand was shaking as he was stood at the bathroom sink to shave and looked at his reflection.

“Who am I trying to kid?” he asked himself “I don’t stand a chance with her”

 

Despite his misgivings he shaved and showered and made the best of what he had, and dried, perfumed and powdered himself before he changed into his dinner suit, complete with cummerbund and bow tie, he was feeling rather nervous as he stood before his reflection and tied his tie for the fourth time and wished he worn a clip on.

“She’s not going to look twice at you anyway” He said to himself “She’s way out of your league for God’s sake”.

 

At the precise moment that Eric was questioning the wisdom of pursuing such a beautiful woman, 45-year-old Charlotte Euringer was stood in front of her mirror looking at her reflection.

She was immaculately dressed in a full length green halter necked designer evening dress and she sighed when she slipped on a lavish faux fur shrug and left the room and knocked on the door across the hall where her best friend Daphne and her husband Geoff were staying.

“Wow” he said, as he opened the door “you look stunning”

“Bless you darling” she responded “but I’m scared to death”

“You shouldn’t be” he reassured her “Eric will trip over his tongue when he sees you”

“I wish I shared your faith” Charlotte said

“Come on gorgeous, come and talk to Daphne”

He stepped aside and let her walk past as he closed the door and she went straight to where Daphne was sitting at the dresser and she turned to look at Charlotte

“You look gorgeous”

“Do you think so?” she asked before adding, with panic in her voice

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“But he does like you, you know he likes you, and he’s going to love you even more tonight when he sees you” Daphne said to her softly in response to her crisis of confidence

“I hope so” she replied forlornly

Geoff poured them all a glass of Champagne and Daphne massaged her ego while her husband plied her with drink, and half an hour later they left the room and headed towards the lift.

 

When Eric emerged from the lift, the reception was jammed with an array of stunningly turned out men and women, but he couldn’t see Charlotte anywhere.

However, while he stood on the periphery of the throng Geoff, Daphne and Charlotte arrived behind him and Charlottes heart skipped a beat when she first caught sight of his dapper upright figure.

“Hello Eric” She said warmly and the moment they made eye contact   all their previous doubts melted away.