HOW COULD SHE BE REAL?

 

Is she not a mirage?

Born in my arid heart

To confuse my senses

Conjured from my dreams

To give false hope

This wild imagining

Is so cruelly meant

For someone so unworthy

How could she be real?

BUTTERFLY GIRL

 

We stood on a hilltop high

With the golden sun up in the sky

We bathed in each other’s company

And the time passed idly by

 

Below us stood the village mill

Wheel turned by the silver water

While on the hill a young man stood

Kissing the Miller’s daughter

 

And as we stood upon that hill

Beneath that glorious summer sun

My heart was lost to her forever

But for the girl it was only fun

 

So there would be no love affair

No reciprocation of desire

She was just a pretty butterfly

Flitting from flower to flower

NOT VIRGINIA PLAIN

 

Her hair was red

Of russet tones

Like autumn leaves

Its cascading flow

Framed her face

And beauty shone forth

Its skins purity,

Rich as parchment,

Soft as silk,

Radiated her beauty

Her hypnotic eyes

Were startlingly blue,

With gemstone clarity

And held laughter in them

Her nose was small, delicate

Her lips were thin

But a smile of sweet remembrance

Constantly played about them

SOFT KISSES, PLANTED

Soft kisses, planted

Like whispers

On expectant lips

Then a smile of coyness

And a blush

The hue of Rose Hips

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. 

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