Thursday, 4 February 2021

Uncanny Love Tales – (14) The Good Neighbour

 My wife Karen and I were divorcing, and I had subsequently moved out of the marital home, though it wasn’t due to any acrimony, it was just that I had no emotional link to it, whereas she really loved the house, so I had agreed to let her buy my half and while she was sorting out the mortgage I moved into a temporary flat.

Karen and I had no children so it was a fairly simple process to separate ourselves, and we managed to keep the involvement of the blood sucking lawyers in the process to an absolute minimum.

It was an amicable split with no animosity or hatred, or lack of love for that matter, there just wasn’t enough of that special ingredient that turned love into breathless, heart skipping passion.

We still loved each other very much but only as a very dear friend.

Anyway, while I was waiting for the money to come through from my half of the house, I moved into a slightly run down flat in what the agent said was an up-and-coming area, it had everything I required though, it just needed a little TLC, which I thought I wouldn’t actually need to give it, as I wouldn’t be there long enough.

It was only a stop gap, so a little wear and tear didn’t bother me.

 

I worked from home so the only thing I really needed was broadband which was easily sorted after a single phone call.

I liked the flat, despite its dinginess; it was the top floor of three so there was no noise from above and only two flats per floor, and the other third floor flat was occupied by the quietest neighbour I had ever known, in fact I had been living there for three weeks before I even realised, I had a neighbour, and the only reason I discovered that was because of an obnoxious delivery man.

I had been out to the local “seven eleven” for some provisions and I had just returned to find a sweaty, heavily tattooed man arguing with a small red-haired woman in her late 20’s separated by what appeared to be a brand-new fridge freezer.

The item was so positioned that the diminutive redhead had to peer around it to see her adversary.

“It says on the docket “doorstep delivery”” he said

“And this is the doorstep”

“But I can’t get it inside the flat on my own” she said

“Look sweetheart, you’re lucky I bought it this far” he snapped

“Now are you going to sign for it or not?”

“Do I have a choice?” she said snatching his PDA from his hand and scribbling a signature on the screen.

He then snatched it back and hurriedly turned away, so much so that I had to quickly step aside to avoid being trampled, but when the sweaty geezer had gone, I asked

“Do you need a hand?”

“Pardon me?” she said

“Would you like a hand getting it inside?”

“Oh” she exclaimed with surprise “yes that would be very kind, thank you”

“No problem” I said and deposited my shopping bags on my doorstep then went back to her and began manhandling the fridge freezer into her kitchen where I helped her to unpack it.

“I’m Phil by the way” I said “Phil Bradshaw”

“Natalie Bunyan” she replied

When we had finished in the kitchen and tidied up the packaging, she made me a coffee and we sat in the lounge and drank it.

“I haven’t seen you out and about” I said

“That’s because I don’t” Natalie replied

“You don’t what?” I asked a little confused

“Go out” she said

“I don’t understand” I said

“I don’t go out” she confirmed

“What! Never?”

“Never” she replied

“Agoraphobia?” I asked

“Yes” she replied enthusiastically because someone actually knew what was wrong with her.

“How long?” I asked

“What? Since I went out?” Natalie asked

“Yes”

“Three years” she said

“Three years?” I repeated in disbelief

“Why?”

“Lots of reasons really” Natalie said quietly, and I just sat and waited for her to elaborate.

“I’m just scared I suppose, it’s scary out there”

“Could you not go out with someone?” I suggested

“I have no one now” Natalie replied sadly

“No family?” I asked

“No”

“Husband? Boyfriend?” I added

“No”

“Girlfriend?” I ventured

“No” she said very definitely

“Ok but you must have friends” I said

“I used to, but now they’re all gone, one by one they stopped coming to see me or answering the phone” she said sadly “avoiding the nutter clearly”

“Then they weren’t real friends in the first place” I offered

“I suppose not” she responded and there was a brief silence and then I asked

“How do you manage financially?”

“Well, the flat was left to me by my Gran, and I have an annuity from my parent’s estate plus a small income from shares and investments, and then I earn a little money, proof reading”

I nodded and Natalie added

“It’s a modest income but I’m not an extravagant person”

“What about shopping?” I asked

“Home delivery” Natalie replied

“What about things that can’t be delivered?”

“The hairdresser comes here to the flat” she said

“What about health?”

“I have an exercise bike and a treadmill” she replied

“No, I mean your health, doctors, hospital visits and such like?” I asked

“I attend to myself” she said

“You can’t attend to everything yourself” I said

“What about prescription medications?”

“You can get anything on the Internet” Natalie replied

“Blimey” I said “you really need to go outside”

“Yes, but I can’t” she said, and tears welled up in her eyes “I just can’t”

“What if I was to help you?” I suggested

“Would you do that?” she asked wiping away the tears

 

So, over the following months I set about helping her to leave her flat.

It wasn’t easy, it could have been a lot simpler if I’d just given her Rohypnol and carried her outside and waited for her to come around, but that would have been counterproductive, so we had to do it the hard way.

However, the truth was I had no idea where to begin to help her.

“So, tell me how it started?” I asked her one morning

“What?” she said

“How did the agoraphobia start?” I replied and she totally broke down,

“I’m sorry” I said as I comforted her “I didn’t mean to upset you”

When the sobs had subsided, and she’d dried her eyes she said in a faltering voice

“It wasn’t just one thing”

“Really?” I pressed, sensing a lie     

There was a long silence as she processed his question.

“I lost my parents when I was in my third year at University which cost me my degree” she said, I didn’t respond but let her take her time to continue when she was ready and finally, she spoke.

“I stayed in my room at University for three months”

“But you came out” I said

“That was Colin” Natalie said

“Colin?” I asked

“Colin Clarke” she replied “my fiancé”

“Oh”

“He told me he loved me and that he couldn’t live without me and then he proposed to me” she said flatly “and so I left the room with him”

“But?” I responded and Natalie looked at me as the tears welled up in her eyes again, but she swallowed hard and added

“But, four years later, a month before the wedding when he was on the stag weekend, he phoned me from Amsterdam and said the wedding was off because he didn’t love me”

“Nice” I said

“It was worse than that, because he said he’d never loved me”

“God” I exclaimed

“That was the single thing” she said, and the tears came again.

 

After her revelations I was even more determined to help her, so I decided to contact a doctor, her doctor, or at least the surgery where she was still registered.

It took 3 weeks to get one of the overpaid narcissists to do a home visit and when he did the best, he could manage was to offer her a course of anti-depressants.

“I don’t want antidepressants” she shouted “I want help”

“I’m offering you help” the doctor said

“No, you’re offering me a chemical cosh” she said “I’m agoraphobic, I need proper help”

“I don’t need your bloody antidepressants I can medicate myself with Pinot at £4 a bottle”

“Well, if you change your mind” he snapped as he got up “make an appointment to come to the surgery”

“If I could make it to the bloody surgery, I wouldn’t need your help, you fucking idiot” She shouted after him

I remained seated in the armchair and smiled as she slammed the door, I think that was the moment I stopped seeing her as a damsel in distress.

I really liked Natalie despite her phobia, she was a really feisty little redhead and quite cute to boot.

 

So, we had sought medical advice and found them wanting so we resorted to Natalie’s cure all and read up on the subject on the internet, but even that was contradictory and was by and large unhelpful.

Despite this we took matters in our own hands, and formulated our plan based loosely on what we had read.

On day one, she just had to take one step out of her front door, count to 10 and step back again.

Well, I say day one, it actually took 3 days for her to take that first step and then she repeated the process for a week but counted five seconds longer each time before she stepped back inside.

Phase two, Natalie had to walk out of her front door take two steps and touch the wall in front of her, which she did first time, and she was so thrilled and excited that when she stepped back through the door she kissed me.

Which wasn’t just an excited peck on the cheek, it was full on the mouth, and was followed through with no holds barred passion and one thing led to another and we ended up in her bed.

“Wow” I said as she collapsed on top of me.

“Oh yes very acceptable” she echoed then as she cuddled up to me, she added “I haven’t done that for a while”

It hadn’t occurred to me at any stage since I’d known her, even when she told me she hadn’t left the flat for three years that Natalie hadn’t had sex.

Well actually it had been 4 years since the last time, and she was as horny as hell.

“Couldn’t you order that on the internet?” I asked her

“I’m sure you can” Natalie replied “but I don’t do it with just anyone”

I took that to mean that I wasn’t just anyone, which was great because she wasn’t just anyone to me.

Of course, by sleeping with her, as wonderful as it was, not just that first time but all the subsequent occasions, I had inadvertently given her another reason not to go outside.

Although to her credit she persevered and showed no sign of giving up, in fact the more progress she made the more vigorously she rewarded herself in the bedroom.

 

By the end of the third month the money had finally come through from Karen for my half of the house and I was able to move on, but I was far from ready to do that, and by the middle month five, Natalie had made so much progress.

She could walk to the lift without pausing for breath, she could also take the lift to the ground floor and could even walk to the front doors.

But that was the point where she faltered, day after day, she would pass through her front door with real purpose only for it to evaporate away at the threshold of the outside world and nothing I could say or do could make her go any further.       

Once back in her flat a black depression would descend on her and I had no option but to leave her.

It broke my heart to see her like that, but I knew that trying to lift her spirits when she was that down was quite futile.

The next day however she would always be bright and full of new resolve which I knew would be short lived.

Seeing her down was all the more heart-breaking for me because I had fallen in love with her.

However, I was in a quandary because I couldn’t tell her that I loved her, not because I didn’t think she felt the same about me, but because Natalie’s ex fiancé had once pledged his love to her in order to get her to re-enter the world and he turned out to have feet of clay.

 

It was a gloriously sunny late September day when it finally all came to a head.

“Today’s the day” she said as we left her flat hand in hand and I squeezed her hand in response and said

“I’m with you every step of the way”   

We progressed briskly towards the lift without a moment’s hesitation.

The ride down to the foyer was silent but for Natalie’s breathing which was slow and deliberate.

When the doors opened and we stepped forward, still holding hands, and quickly crossed the foyer.

As we approached the double glass doors, I reached my free hand out and pushed the left-hand door open and without breaking stride I stepped outside and still holding Natalie’s hand I pulled her behind me.

Once I emerged into the sunlight, I was thinking to myself “so far, so good” when my progress was halted.

I looked around to see Natalie half in and half out of the door hanging onto the door frame with her free hand.

“You’re nearly there darling” I said

“I can’t” she said

“Just one more step” I urged her

“I can’t” she repeated and let go of my hand

“Please come with me” I pleaded

“Why?” she asked 

“Well, there are so many places I want to take you, things I want to show you and things I want to share with you” I said

“But why?” Natalie said remaining in the doorway

“Don’t you know why?” I asked her

“No” she said

I didn’t want to say it but she was giving me no alternative, so I said

“Because I….”

“No don’t say it Phil” she shouted

“I have too”

“No, you mustn’t” Natalie urged

“I must” I said

“You know I was tricked back into the world once before by a false love” Natalie said “I’m scared it will happen again”

“I can’t not say it; because it’s true” I said “I love you”

“I love you too” she responded almost in tears “but I don’t think I can do it”

“Then don’t” I said

“What?” she said

“I don’t care where we are as long as we’re together” I said

“You don’t ever have to come outside you can stay in there forever and I will bring the world to you”

“And you will still love me?” she asked

“Forever” I replied

“Hold my hand” she said, and I reached out and took hold of her outstretched hand, and she grasped it tightly like her life depended on it.

I looked at her determined face and smiled at her and she returned it.

“Ok I’m ready” she said and taking a deep breath she stepped over the threshold out into the sunshine and into my arms. 


Wednesday, 3 February 2021

The Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa – Night Management – Chelsea

 

The beautiful Downshire village of Clerembeax St Giles is 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 and she and her handpicked staff had made a great success of it, and they had a varied clientele who frequented the Hotel for a variety of reasons, but all of them expected a high degree of service.

So the staff were always on hand to deal with whatever needs the guests might require, whatever the hour, and among the night duty staff were Night Manager Chelsea Winfield and her assistant Charlie Wadsworth.

Chelsea Winfield was 26 years old and divorced from a violent alcoholic but despite that she was an upbeat person, she was five foot eight with long platted blonde hair, mesmerizing green eyes.

She also had a very decent figure, with a pert derriere, disproportionately large breasts, and stellar legs.

She also had appetites, which was why she liked Night Management because there was always a lonely guest who would be happier satisfying their lust with a real woman rather than watching porn.

But if she were to strike out with the clientele, she could always resort to her sex buddy Sebastian Chapman, who was the Senior Night Staff Manager at the Hotel, who could normally be relied upon to oblige her.

The sex with Sebastian was great but she wasn’t the only willing and able woman with needs on his radar and so she preferred to cast her net wider, which was where James Bottrill came in.

James was a widower and a regular guest at the Hotel, as he had a business in nearby Abbeyvale.

He was a tall good-looking man in his late thirties with prematurely grey hair, but he was a quiet shy.

Chelsea fancied him from the time before she became Night Manager, and she had hopes that he might be more than a quickie, so when she got the chance to talk with him she used the opportunity to flirt with him.

However, he was so shy nothing ever came of it, despite her best efforts, until one day when she decided to take drastic action, partly because Sebastian was in Spain, but mainly because she had to force James Bottrill’s well-manicured hand.  

Unfortunately, James was out most of the evening in question but decided to intercept him when she saw him return.

“Hello Mr Bottrill” she said brightly “Have you had a good evening?”

“Yes, thank you Chelsea” he replied “But tiring, so I think a hot shower and supper in my room”

“Very good Mr Bottrill” she said and smiled to herself as he walked away, as she had a plan to get his attention, so she phoned the kitchen.

 

She met the waiter in the corridor outside James Bottrill’s room and said

“Ok I’ll take it from here”

“Very well Miss Winfield” he responded

When he opened the door, she could see he had indeed showered, and he was wearing a silk dressing gown and hoped nothing else.

Chelsea had also showered since they last spoke, and she had changed from her suit and blouse and into a dress.

The reasons for that were two-fold, first it was shorter than her skirt and would show off her lovely legs and more importantly give her an opportunity to flash her stocking tops.  
“Oh, hello Chelsea” he said, “Do you do everything at this Hotel?”

“No, I was just passing” she lied and blushed as she pushed the trolley into the room tottering on her highest heels, chosen for the maximum exposure up her skirt as she bent over.

Which she quickly did and asked, “Where would you like it?”

James didn’t reply because he was too busy staring at the dirty postcard image of Chelsea bending over the trolley in her seemed stockings and best silk underwear.

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder to make sure he was looking and bent a little further and asked, “on the desk or on the bed?”

 

Suffice is to say his supper went uneaten, though his appetite had been well and truly satisfied by the time Chelsea wheeled the trolley out of his room, and as she walked along the corridor, she was feeling very pleased with herself that she had helped him overcome his shyness with her special room service, something he would get to enjoy every time he stayed at the Clerembeax Palace.

BENIGN SPIRIT

 

Let me surround you

Like a benign spirit

Comforting and protecting

Let me envelope you like a cloak of love

Wrapping you in a goose down quilt

To warm your soul from winters grip

Let me nourish and nurture

And blow gently on the embers of love

In your sad and lonely heart

Tuesday, 2 February 2021

Snippets of Downshire Life – Groundhog Day

 

Emily Goff was a very successful chef, and she was well respected by fellow professionals and was highly regarded by everyone who knew her, but her success didn’t extend to her personal life, she may have had the Midas touch in the kitchen, but she was more like Medusa in the romance department.

She was living in Shallowfield with her family when her career took off, which began in a very small way when she was still at college.

It all started when a kindred spirit, another local Shallowfield Chef, Jane Cooper, employed her as sous chef in her home dining enterprise.

Jane felt an affinity with Emily because she was doing the same college course at the same college as Jane, unfortunately at the same time her love life was a total disaster.

Her bad luck in love continued even after she got a restaurant job under Jane at her own restaurant when she fell heavily for a gorgeous waiter, who turned out to be gay.

And that was her problem, she kept falling in love with the wrong guys.    

After three years at the Phoenix in Shallowfield, Jane Cooper was asked by the Lord of the Manor Gabriel St George to cook for a select group at the Mornington Manor, which became the first of many and after two years of that Emily became Chef in residence after Jane fell pregnant.

The only downside being that she had her heart broken in Shallowfield and Mornington.

After having her heart broken once too often Emily finally swore herself off men, which she managed to keep to for more than five years before cupid struck again.

She was still living and working in Downshire, but she wasn’t looking for love she was just doing what she did best, cooking.

It’s 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 cupid struck its mark 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.

Emily was head Chef and part owner of the Angels Tears in the village which she had spent two years building up when she fell for the new curate at the Church of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal,
Humphrey Martin.

It took her completely by surprise in several ways, firstly she wasn’t looking for anyone, and she had her feelings locked squarely away, but most of all he wasn’t her type in any shape or form.

He was older than her for a start, quietly spoken, awkward, nervy and a bit Gorky looking to boot, as well as being a clergyman.

 

Humphrey for his part found himself attracted to her as well, despite the fact she was loud, feisty and outspoken, and very much not the type of woman he was looking for, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his heart wanted her.

 

As it turned out they weren’t the only ones to think Emily and Humphrey were mismatched, but despite the misgivings of all concerned they soon found themselves going out together and then confounded the sceptics by becoming an inseparable couple.

And all was going well but at the back of Emily’s mind was the fear that it would all go wrong, was bound to go wrong, because her relationships always went wrong.

All her adult life she had failed in the art of love, every time she would fall for someone in a breathless passion, she would suffer the hoppy skippy heart when she looked at him, and feel that desperate longing when they were apart, and she would give herself completely, only for it all to fall apart.

Year after year, several times a year, she found herself falling again, helpless to resist, in fact it was like reliving Groundhog Day when she was forced to make the same mistakes over and over again.

However, she managed to break the cycle, after having her heart broken once too often and managed to keep love at bay for more than five years before she fell for Humphrey.

 

Emily had her reservations about dipping her toe in the water but after they had been going out together for the best part of a year she began to lower her guard, and that was when she started to hear the rumours which left her cold.    

There were some in the village who delighted in the fact that they could bring bad news to her door but there were many others who only had her welfare at heart and sought to comfort her.

But no matter how many positives she heard from friends and villagers she only remembered the negatives.

That was because the rumour that she kept hearing was that Humphrey was not going to be the Curate of St Jane’s for very much longer and what gave credence to the rumour in Emily’s mind was the fact that Humphrey had been quieter than normal and was clearly distracted, so she feared the worst.

 

Everything came to a head on the 2nd of February when she was in the kitchen at the Angels Tears restaurant prepping for lunch with her sous Chef Charlotte St David and Humphrey knocked on the door.

This just in itself threw Emily into a blind panic and seeing her reaction Charlotte made herself scarce.

The reason Emily was so fearful was first that he never visited her before lunch because he knew how busy she was and secondly, and more crucially, it was Candlemas Day which was a very significant event in the church calendar, it was the festival of the purification of the Virgin Mary, which marked the last day of Christmas.

Falling midway between the winter and spring equinox it was a time for looking ahead at the bounty ahead.

Emily’s sense of foreboding was like the day signified the end of one chapter and beginning of another, with particular emphasis on “the end”.

The irony of the timing was not lost on her, because Candlemas Day was of course also Groundhog Day, and the phrase “Groundhog Day” has often been used to express the same events or actions occurring repetitively, and in her case that event was having her heart broken.

 

She took a deep breath summoned up a smile and opened the door

“Hello hon” she said “this is a nice surprise”

He walked past her without speaking and he was wearing a grave expression, which quickly removed the smile from her own face.  

 

He sat down at the table and she joined him

“Emily! I need to say something” he said abruptly

“Oh God you’re leaving Denmead” she snapped

“And you’re breaking up with me”

“No” he said impatiently

“What part?” she asked

“What?”

“What part is no?” Emily asked “the leaving or the dumping”

“Neither” he replied “I mean both”

“Then I don’t understand what’s happening, you come here wearing the face of doom saying you need to say something, there are rumours flying around the village about changes at the church and you have been very distracted lately and I don’t know what’s going on, so if you’re not leaving the village and you’re not dumping me, what then?”

“Emily Goff, will you please stop talking long enough for me to ask you to marry me” Humphrey said

“What?” she exclaimed

“Will you marry me?” he asked,

“So, you’re staying?” she quizzed “at St Janes”

“yes” he confirmed “I’m to be the new Vicar”

“So, it’s the Vicar who is leaving?” she mused

“Yes, to pastures new” he said

“Wow that’s a relief” Emily exclaimed and sighed

“So?” he said

“So, what?”

“The marriage thing” he pointed out and only got a blank look and silence until she screamed and threw her arms around his neck.

“Yes, Yes, and Yes” she said punctuating each affirmative with a kiss

“Of course, I’ll marry you”

So he fished in his pocket and tucked in the corner he found the ring he’d been carrying in there for the previous two weeks, it was only a cheap little ring, one that she had admired on a street vendor’s stall on a visit to Abbottsford market, it was only an inexpensive piece of yellow metal but he gave it to her and said

“This is only a symbol, we will need to buy you a real engagement ring together”

“I’ll keep it forever” she said and kissed him

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snippets of Downshire Life – Candlemas Day

 

Dave Torrison was a Junior Doctor at the Royal Downshire Hospital in Purplemere and shared a house in town with two Nurses, Tony Torlini and Mark Tongue and another doctor, Mary Macintyre, who all worked at the same Hospital.

It wasn’t a huge house and nor was it in the smartest part of town but it was perfect for them as it meant that they had a relatively inexpensive place to live that was close to work, which was ideal for all of them as they worked shifts, and it meant that split between the four of them their expenses were very manageable. 

They were all single, though were all looking and all quite pessimistic regarding their prospects in the relationship department given their working hours.

But they all got on well and made the most of their situations.

They all had hopes and dreams though, of finding the right person and settling down.

 

Purplemere was one of the largest towns in the Finchbottom Vale, and the Vale was nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, and those who were lucky enough to live there thought of it as the rose between two thorns.

The Vale was once a great wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East to Childean in the west and from Shallowfield in the south to Purplemere in the north.

But over the many centuries the vast majority had been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair.  

There were only three small bodies of water left in the Vale now one in Mornington, one in Childean and third of course was Purplemere.

 

It was on the eve of Candlemas day, the festival of the purification of the Virgin Mary, which marked the last day of Christmas.

Falling midway between the winter and spring equinox it was a time for looking forward at the bounty ahead.

Dave felt it was like the end of one chapter and was optimistic that it was the beginning of another.

The end in question was his four-month relationship with control freak Maddie, or mad for short.

The morning after breaking up with her he rose early, showered and dressed and after walking down the stairs he paused as he spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

It was a figure lying on the sofa and he recognised it to be Mary Macintyre even though she had her back to him lying on her side, because the sweeping curve of her hip to her waist was like a mountain slope, and it was a view he had admired many times before.
He must have spent a full five minutes gazing at her sleeping form, clad only in a nightgown, then he tiptoed in and draped a throw over her before tiptoeing away again.

The reason he was up so early was that he was heading to his parent’s house as he hadn’t seen his Mum or Dad since Christmas and she had called expressly to ask him to go round for tea, he agreed as he knew they would be pleased to hear he had dumped Maddie.

Although he was twenty years too old for his Mum’s idea of Sunday Tea, he was glad he went and passed a very enjoyable few hours with them.

 

By the time he got back to Purplemere it was after ten o’clock and he was surprised to see there was still a light burning in the window and there was no car parked on the drive, so he assumed the light was left on by one of his housemates to deter burglars.

He parked the car on the drive and went inside not knowing if anyone was inside or not but as he went in all was quiet.

So he went straight upstairs and got into bed as his shift started at 6 am, but as it turned out he couldn’t sleep so he got up again and got ready for work and he was at the hospital just after 4 o’clock.

His first port of call was the coffee cart and with his drink in hand he made his way upstairs and thought he would sit and drink it in the “on call” lounge.

He opened the door and the room was in darkness and as he pushed the door open the light from the hall flooded into the room and then he did a double take.

In the corner of the room was a small but functional bed but that wasn’t what surprised him.

What had got his immediate attention was the sleeping figure of a Doctor wearing hospital scrubs and it was a figure he was very familiar with, for laying on the hospital cot in the foetal position with her back to him, partially covered by a hospital blanket, was the curvaceous figure of Doctor Mary Macintyre and not for the first time he just stood and admired the view, especially her perfect round bum which was visible beneath the blanket.

Not that it was just her physical attributes he admired, he liked everything about her and he loved her body and soul, he had done since the moment he first met her.

But he had held his feelings in check because it had taken a long time to find a group of people he was happy to share a house with, and he thought having a relationship with one of them could get messy if that relationship failed, or worse than that what if he asked her and she said no, how awkward would that be and what an atmosphere it could evoke, so he kept his own counsel and went out with a succession of girls who failed to measure up to Mary. 

With a sigh he had one final look and closed the door and went along to the staff lounge where he sat and drank his coffee.

 

He sat there sipping his coffee and was questioning his position regarding her and then after about ten minutes she appeared, and she was looking gorgeous even before she beamed a smile at him.

He watched as she walked over to the notice board and unpinned a colourful flyer, then she turned back towards him, still wearing a smile, and laid it on the table in front of him.

He reluctantly diverted his gaze from Mary and looked down at the flyer which was advertising the upcoming Valentines Ball, and then he raised his eyes to her again.

“I like dancing, if you were wondering” she said “In case you ever get fed up of just watching me sleep”

She beamed another smile at him, partly for his benefit but also because she knew by his expression that she had not miscalculated the situation, before she turned on her heels and left.

 

So it was on Candlemas day, the festival of the purification of the Virgin Mary, when his life took a positive step forward.

It officially marked the last day of Christmas, and fell midway between the winter and spring equinox and he really felt it was like the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

The end in question was his relationship with Mad Maddie and now it appeared that Mary was his new beginning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, 1 February 2021

The Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa – Predatory

 

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 and she and her handpicked staff had made a great success of it, and they had a varied clientele.

 

Malcolm Steele had stayed in a lot of Hotels over the years and he had bedded a lot of women in Hotels, sometimes he picked up the women and sometimes they picked him up.   

The bar was a favourite starting point and was usually fertile ground and on those rare occasions that he struck out he could often go to the concierge to find him one, in the bigger Hotels at any rate. 

But in the Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa didn’t really work like that, so if he struck out there, he would spend the night alone.

However, as luck would have it when he arrived in the bar there was large busty blonde sitting on a stool at the bar, and he recognized her.

“Hello Dr Simmons” he said “Good to see you again”

She was one of the Doctors at his mother’s care home.

“Mr. Steele, please call me Sally, I try to play down the Doctor bit when I’m out otherwise people have an annoying habit of telling me about their nasty complaints”

She laughed a rather delightful laugh that caused her rather substantial chest to come alive.  

“I’m looking forward to getting hold of those beauties” he thought to himself and then he noticed the wedding ring, which was to him what Kryptonite was to Superman.

He had a very strict rule about not fishing in another man’s pond so to speak, a rule which he had only broken on a handful of occasions and on every occasion he regretted it, even though the sex was outstanding.

But he thought there was nothing wrong with having a drink with a beautiful woman and indulging in some polite conversation while he ogled her tits.

So, over a drink or three he explained that he was doing a publicity tour for one of his famous authors and she told him she was hiding from her ex-husbands mother.

“I divorced him, no problem” she said “but she still thinks she’s my mother in law”

“I notice you still wear your ring” he said

“That’s to ward off the lounge lizards” she remarked

“I understand”

“Are you really publishing a famous author?” She asked and he nodded superciliously

“Your mum says you publish dirty books” Sally stated and laughed loudly.

“We all have to make a living” he replied

“So, who’s the author? Some dirty old man writing for other dirty old men” she asked cynically

“Actually” he said quietly “she’s a middle-aged spinster from Cheltenham”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, she has the filthiest mind of anyone I’ve ever met” he said and they both laughed

It was shortly after that when they got the distinct impression that the barman had had enough and was ready to close.

The generally accepted convention was that the staff were obliged to keep the bar open all the while guests were wanting a drink but in reality they had to close at some point and you could still get a drink from the night porter if you wanted a nightcap.

“I think we should let this poor man close up for the night” she said, and they bade the long-suffering barman a good night.

As the lift doors opened, when they reached the third floor, Sally announced

“This is us”

“No, I’m on the fourth floor”

“Yes, but me and my magnificent breasts are on this floor” she pointed out “and as you’ve been staring at them all evening with lustful eyes I thought you might like to do with them what you’ve been imagining” 

“Well as you put it like that then of course I will accompany you” he said

“Thank God for that I’m so horny” she whispered as they stepped out of the lift

“Really?”

“Yes” Sally replied and then added “you wouldn’t believe just how horny”

“Let’s find out then” Malcolm said and escorted her to her room.

Sunday, 31 January 2021

Uncanny Love Tales – (13) Metropolitan Music Lover

 

Phlebotomist Harriet Quimby and Professor of music Nathan Robinson had been dating for close to six months and were getting very serious.

To the untrained eye they seemed an odd couple, she a beautiful willowy health professional and him an unspectacular looking academic, but it was also patently obvious that mismatched or not they were deeply in love and despite their differences and a six year age gap they were a two halves of the same coin.

Her marriage to William Quimby ended as a result of his lies and deceit so when her relationship with Nathan began, Harriet stated

“I have only one rule or perhaps more aptly, it is my no lies policy, we have to have absolute honesty between us or nothing”

“I agree” Nathan said “Unreservedly”

 

In the fullness of time although they still had their own respective homes they were always together when commitments allowed, although in truth they were each other’s primary commitment and when they were together it was generally always at his house.

Apart from when Nathan was out of town lecturing and it had been that way since the very beginning.

When Harriet first agreed to go out with Nathan she didn’t have it in mind that it was a date as such in fact she didn’t, even to that day, understand how it happened, she remembered that she agreed that if she went with him to a Jazz gig, in return he would take her to the opera and it was as simple as that or at least it seemed so simple and matter of fact.

But go with him to the Jazz gig she did and one gig led to another one and then to drinks, and dinner and the pictures until she suddenly had space in his wardrobe and a drawer for her knickers and then she could hardly remember the time before they met.

They did however still disagree musically but in all other matters they were simpatico.

 

Nathan was a jazz fan and when he wanted to relax he always listened to Beiderbecke, Goodman, The Dorsey Brothers, Jelly Roll Morton or Artie Shaw but of an evening he would always defer to Harriet’s favourite, Puccini.

Just to look at her lovely face as the wonderful melodies washed over her.

When he first asked her out she said

“Ok I will come with you to the Jazz Shack to hear you play again, on one condition”

“Name it” he said with enthusiasm

“You have to come to the opera with me”

He went to speak but she silenced him with a look

“And I don’t mean Gilbert and Sullivan either”

“Puccini’s Madame Butterfly, one of the greatest pieces of early 20th century music ever written” she said with authority

“It’s a date” he said

His one and only regret since they had been together was that his part of the bargain that he should take her to see Madame Butterfly had remained unfulfilled.

They couldn’t find a performance at the time and she had to settle for Tosca, which she did without a single word of complaint, but a promise was a promise and his failure to keep it would have to be put right.

 

Nathan had been away for three days lecturing on the question of whether Jazz had an effect on speakeasies or vice versa and Harriet was missing him terribly.

She had been at his house all the time he had been away as she felt to lonely in her flat.

 

When Nathan drove onto his driveway he was delighted to see the lights were on, which meant Harry was home.

He opened the front door and was surprised to hear the sound of Bix Beiderbecke coming from his study.

“Hello!” he called as he closed the door.

“Nathan?” Harriet called back “is that you?”

She appeared from the lounge and rushed towards him

“You’re early” she said and kissed him.

“Yes we wrapped up earlier than I expected” He replied

“How come you’re listening to Bix Beiderbecke, you hate jazz?”

“It’s growing on me” Harriet replied

“Really?” he asked doubtfully

“Yes I’ve got to like it” she said

“Liar” Nathan said

“I’m not lying” she said innocently

As they walked to the lounge

“What happened to your no lies policy?” he asked

“I hate it when you remember what I say” she said grumpily “and then use my own words against me”

“So?”

“Ok” she confessed

“If I can hear your jazz playing in the study it’s like you’re only in the next room and not miles away and then I don’t miss you so much”

 

Later that evening after they had made love Nathan said

“Can you get some time off around your birthday?”  

“Yes I think so” she replied “Why?”

“I thought we might get away on a mini break” he replied, “Hotel, opera, posh restaurant”

“Really?”

“Yes it’s your 30th after all” he replied

“That’s a big birthday”

He would have liked it to have been a surprise but he needed to tell her in order for her to book the time off.

 

Harriet managed to get the time off and then he made all the arrangements and kept all the details secret until the day came for them to leave.

They were stood in the hallway with the bags packed when he said

“Have you got your passport?”

“You don’t need a passport for Covent Garden” she said and snorted

“No, that’s true” Nathan said “But you do for the Met”

“The Met?” she asked

“Yes” Nathan replied

“The Metropolitan Opera house?” she asked “in New York City?”

“Yes, but I can change it to Covent Garden though if you’d rather” he offered

“Don’t you dare” she said and kissed him

“I can’t believe you’re taking me to New York” she said and squealed

“Well it is your 30th” he explained

“Well if you’re taking me to New York for my 30th what will you do for my 40th?”

“Well that’s easy” he said

“What?”

“I’ll change you for two 20s”

“Bloody cheek” she said but kissed him anyway