Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills Nation Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south, to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north but our story begins in the West, to the south of Northchapel, in the beautiful village of Chapel Hill.
There was an expanse
of green at the center of the village complete with duckpond and a weeping
willow tree.
On the north side of
the green was the pub, The Woodcutters Tavern and attached to the side of the
pub there was a Stephenson’s general store and post office, across the green
from the pub was the Church, St Peter’s, with the vicarage to one side and a
row of shops ran alongside the road on the West of the green, Buckley’s
Greengrocer and Fruiterers, Boddington’s Butchers, Harvey’s Pharmacy, Bizzie
Lizzie Florists, Mazzone’s Hairdressers, Harrisons Hardware and Addison’s
Bakery.
Chapel Hill was also the home of Amy Bettis
and Addison’s
was one of Bettis Bakes biggest customers.
Amy was married to Ray Boddington who like all the Boddingtons was employed either
at the pig farm in Fallowfield or in one of the many Butchers Shops throughout
the county, and possessed the
unmistakable classic good looks of the clan with thick black curly hair and
wild gypsy eyes, dark, mysterious and sexy, and Amy fell for him instantly.
They met at a time
when she was trying to secure a regular supply of good quality meat, but on
favourable credit terms.
Because at that time
Bettis Bakes were on the brink of extinction because her feckless father had
run the business as his own private cash cow until the point the cow ran dry
and he took all the remaining cash he
could get his hands on and disappeared without a second thought for the firm or
his daughter.
The only thing that her father didn’t take
with him was Bettis Bakes greatest asset, the rights to the Downshire Duchess,
for which they held the Royal Charter.
The “Duchess” was a heavily spiced meat and
potato pie which she had turned into the company’s flagship and in five years
she had turned their fortunes around and had
worked hard to revive the family business culminating in winning
the prestigious National Best Bake award during British Pie Week, which gained
them national exposure.
But it also gained
them some unwelcome attention, when a figure from the past contacted Amy out of
the blue.
It was just at the end
of British Pie Week, two days after receiving the award, when she received a
phone call from her Father.
No one in the family, or
their circle of friends had heard word one from him since he absconded with
what remained of the Companies money, with the police hot on his heels, so it
was quite a shock for her to hear from him after five years had elapsed, though
perhaps that was not really a surprise.
He had deserted both the
her and the Bakery when they were on their uppers and now when things were on
the up and up he resurfaced with his hand out, from whatever rock he’d been
hiding under, and wherever that might have been he had obviously got to hear of
her success.
“Amy Bettis!” she said
“Amy darling” the
voice said
“Father” she said
flatly “Long time no hear”
“Well you know how it
is, time flies when you’re having fun” he said
“So to what do we now owe
the pleasure?” She asked
“Well I don’t like be
indelicate” he said “but I’m a little short on funds”
“So?” She responded
unsympathetically
“Well I heard on the
grapevine that the Bakery was doing well now”
“Yes it is doing well”
she snapped
“Bloods thicker than
water” he said
“Well Father give me
an address and I’ll send you a cheque” she said
“No need” he said “I’m
in the neighbourhood on Friday, I’ll pick up the cash personally”
“Ok then” she said
“after all, as you said blood is thicker than water”
On Friday her Father
walked into the boardroom, immaculately dressed, in Italian silk, and his skin was
deeply tanned from five years spent in sunnier climbs.
“Amy darling” he said
and moved to embrace her “it’s so lovely to see you again”
“I wish I could say
its mutual” she said and evaded his embrace
“Well just give me my
fair share and I’ll be on my way” he said “isn’t that why you’re here?”
Amy had toiled hard to
make a go of the Bakery so she was not about to let a thieving cheating bastard
like her Father take a penny from the family or the business, blood or no blood.
“I’m here to ensure
you get what you deserve” she said which was when the police emerged through the
door behind him, and a tirade of ungentlemanly language followed, words that
should never have been uttered by a Father to his daughter, but she just looked
on as he was taken into custody.
She felt no more
remorse for him, as the police took him away, than he had shown over what he
had done to her and his employees.
Amy felt even less
when she refused his request to pay his legal fees and left him to apply for
legal aid.
Amy’s only feelings
regarding her Father were those of justice being served when he was sentenced
to 7 years in Prison.
She would never see
him again and he would never know the child she was carrying.
