WE ARE AT THE BEGINNING

 

We are at the beginning

We are barely on our way

Love is still new and fresh

But I would just like to say

I want to grow old with you

Till we are both old and grey

I want us both to be together

Until our far off dying day

Snippets of Downshire Life – The Summer Solstice

 

The village of Brocklington was on the River Brooke about six miles downstream from Sharping St Mary in the Finchbottom Vale which was nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think 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 was Purplemere.

But the river Brooke was the life blood of the Vale and as such it had particular significance to the spiritual well-being of the land and its people and for generations the Wiccan community had held a secret ceremony at the time of the Summer Solstice, where they would make offerings to the river goddess, chant incantations and then bathe naked in the waters.

 

Afterwards when the sun had set on the longest day, 28-year-old Charlie Hawkins had to rush home and change as she was expected to attend her Cousin Kerry’s 21^st Birthday Party at the Village Hall.

She didn’t particularly want to go, it wasn’t her kind of thing, and as she was unattached, and content to be so, she didn’t really think there was much point, but her mother wouldn’t have let her hear the end of it if she’d stayed away.

When she finally arrived at the party she was instantly urged to get up on the dance floor which was where her life changed forever.

Charlotte had never been the most coordinated girl, in fact she was inclined to be clumsy, so it was no surprise to anyone that after a matter of minutes she had tripped over her own two feet and then fell into the arms of Sam Peters, at which point her flailing arms instantly went round her saviors neck like a sprung trap and then she kissed him wetly on the mouth, which he reciprocated, and that was a surprise to all assembled including the couple themselves.

From that moment on they were inseparable, and they danced the night away and when the night was over he walked her home and shared a passionate good night kiss on the door step.

 

The following year Charlie didn’t participate in the Wiccan ceremony in the River Brooke as they had a different kind of ceremony to attend when they were married at St Cuthbert’s Church.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snippets of Downshire Life – The Longest Day

 

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

 

Amy was an only child and had lived in Great Trotwood her whole life, and her mother had just celebrated her 40^th birthday when she fell pregnant, and Amy was cherished, because her parents had given up all hope of parenthood, and she cherished them in return for the love they showered on her.

So, she was naturally devastated when her father died suddenly when she was still in her mid-twenties, and his loss brought her and her mother even closer together, and she devoted herself to her Mum at the expense of all other personal attachments, and she had never regretted her decision.

In the last five years of her mother’s life she had become more like her nurse than her companion, then at the age of 38 she was suddenly alone.

 

The Wake was being held in the private rooms at the village pub, Tiplady’s Tipple, named after Josiah Tiplady who was the Lancashire Industrialist who made his fortune amongst the smoking factory chimneys of the North who purchased the old Trotwood Manor in the 19^th century.

But Amy couldn’t face it, so instead of joining everyone else at the pub she went home after the service at St Timothy's to an empty house.

The house she had lived in all her life and the one she and her mother had shared for 13 years.

When she got inside she slipped her jacket off and went to the kitchen and poured herself a drink and then cried.

It was June the 21^st, the longest day of the year, which felt like the longest year of her life.

After sitting alone quietly for about half an hour and wondering why she was all alone at 38 years of age, and then she was disturbed by a knock at the door, so she ignored it and poured herself another drink.

A few moments later there was another, more persistent knock so she ignored it again and drained her glass.

A few seconds more and there was another even more persistent knock, so she got up and walked down the hall and reluctantly opened the door.

It was Alistair Blake, the man who had been carrying a torch for her since his twenties, who she had been keeping at arm’s length while she gave all of herself to her mother’s welfare.

They had dated, after a fashion, theatre, cinema, and the occasional meal for special occasions.

Her mother urged Amy to snap him up, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

“There will be time enough for that” Amy would say to her and her mother would shake her head and smile.

“I was told to come and get you,” he said

“You’ve been missed”

“I don’t think I can” Amy replied

“Nonsense” he said firmly, “you’re expected”

But Amy turned around and walked back to the kitchen and sat down.

“You must” Alistair insisted crouching down in front of her.

“I can’t” she retorted

“You have no choice” he insisted

“I can’t go, how many times must I say it?” she snapped “it’s just too hard”

“It’s not about you,” he whispered in his face “it’s about your mum”

She said nothing in response, she just looked at him, as if she’d never seen him before and then inexplicably and right out of the left field, she kissed him.

“That’s not helping” he shouted and then kissed her back, before he pushed her away and said

“We shouldn’t be doing this”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Amy begged “I thought you wanted to, you kissed me back”                                             

“I do want to” he said “But I don’t want you to kiss me just because you’re sad”

“Oh, how precious” she sneered

“Well call me old fashioned but I want the woman I love to kiss me because she wants to” he said as he stood up “and because she wants to do it as much as I do”

“Well we can’t always have what we want, can we” she snapped

“I’m going back to the wake” he said “you should come too”

“Why? Because I’m expected”

“No because you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t” he said and walked towards the door, but he didn’t get far.

“Wait for me” she called “Please”

 

They walked in the pub together and she put on a brave face for everyone and internally counted the minutes until it was over.

When she got back home she planned on finishing the bottle of Scotch she’d opened earlier and would then crash out and not surface for a few days.

But instead she tidied herself up, tended to her make up, and went back out locking the front door behind her.

 

She walked up the short footpath and knocked on the front door of the cottage and waited nervously until the door opened and Alistair smiled and invited her in.

“I came to apologise for earlier” she said

“There’s really no need”

“I think there is” Amy said “so I’m sorry”

“Apology accepted” Alistair said brightly “Come and have a drink”

“There was something else I need to say” she said nervously “And I’m a bit worried about how you will react”

“That sounds ominous” he said suddenly feeling nervous himself, so he sat down on the staircase

“Saying sorry was just the first part” Amy said and took a deep breath before she added

“The second was to ask the man that I love to kiss me”

“Well that is something totally different to accepting an apology” he said as he stood up “and my reaction to it is this”

And he leant in and kissed her and brought a satisfactory end to her longest day.

 

 

HOPELESS

 

The hope has gone

Hope of love

Hope of tenderness

It has fallen into the abyss

The hope of Joy

And requited feelings

Have evaporated

And are lost in the ether

And the hope

That what once was lost

Can be found

Is a shattered myth

OUR LOVE IS NEW LOVE

 

Our love is new love

Our love is true love

Don’t be blue love

Because I love you love

 

Our love is new love

My love is true love

I won’t be blue love

Because I love you love

 

Our love is new love

Is your love a true love?

Don’t make me blue love

Say I love you too love

Snippets of Downshire Life – Midsummer Eve

 

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

 

The Mornington village Doctors, Dentist & Orthodontic Surgeries were an important asset to the village and the estate.

Because Mornington was such a small village none of the practices were open full time but Baron St George, the head of the Mornington Estate heavily subsidized all three as well as the Small Chemist shop, which shared the Doctors premises.

There weren’t enough patients to warrant full time staffing so in order to make appropriate use of the facilities the doctors surgery was made available to other practitioners in the afternoons and evenings, such as Chiropractors, Hypnotherapists, Acupuncturists etc. but villager Claire Pollard, a Chiropodist was the only regular, the others tended to be a bit more sporadic in their attendance.

 

The Doctors, Dentists, orthodontists and pharmacists were all based elsewhere and provided a skeleton service to the village.

The Doctors presence was maintained by the Dancingdean Health Centre in Shallowfield, which was how Dr Anne Jefferies came to get to know Claire.

They were instantly attracted to each other but neither of them were inclined to do anything about it.

 

They were physically very similar, they were both Blonde haired, pretty, tall and slender, though Claire was a bit shapelier, not that there was a lot in it.

How they differed was that Anne was a bit more confident, which had served her well in work and personal life and she was never short of company, and had the pick of the girls, though she still somehow managed to end up with the unsuitable ones.

Claire on the other hand was quieter and less confident but nonetheless she had her share of romance, however she had recently grown tired of the on off relationship with a girl called Julie, so she was in no hurry to get involved again.

 

But over the months their feelings changed, although Claire proved to have the greater resolve, and stuck to her decision.

But it didn’t stop them spending increasingly more time together, so Anne was perfectly poised to press her cause.

But she had to be cunning and crafty so she told Claire she had booked a three day getaway for them both up in the village of Roespring, which was in the North of the county, as part of Claires birthday present.

“That will be lovely” she said “I like Roespring”

“I know you do honey” Anne said with a leery grin on her face.

 

Anne picked Claire up from Mornington early on the morning of June 20th and after Anne wished her happy birthday they set off for their destination, although only one of them knew the actual destination and it wasn’t Claire.

 

They had a long leisurely drive mainly due to them making a regular number of stops due to the fact that Claire had a bladder the size of a pea.

On the last leg of the journey Claire was driving and was completely in Anne’s hands, as the latter gave directions and the former drove.

It was a birthday treat and Anne had planned to the last detail, none of which she had told the birthday girl, so she drove on following every instruction.

With each twist and turn Claire tried to guess their destination as Anne chattered away, but in the end, she gave up and decided to just enjoy the company and the scenery.

 

They stopped at a pub in Millmoor for something to eat and they sat in the beer garden to enjoy it, so it was well into the evening by the time they reached the village of Roespring and it was still beautifully sunny, and Claire still wasn’t sure if that was their final destination, until Anne shouted

“Turn right”

“What here?” Claire asked

“Yes” she answered

So, she followed her instructions and drove into the main entrance of the Stone Circle Camp Site and Claire was immediately deflated.

“We’re camping?”

“No, we’re glamping” Anne retorted

“Is that better than camping?” Claire asked doubtfully

“Oh yes, so much better”

 

It was very busy on the site as it was the Summer Solstice the next day, so all the pagans, hippies and new age travellers had descended on the village for the ritual greeting of the sun at the ancient Roespring Standing Stone Circle.

Claire was still very disappointed with their location as Anne continued to direct her around the campsite with a maze of tents either side of them.

She had been hoping for something a bit more upmarket than spending the night under canvas, but she couldn’t be angry as she knew that Anne meant well.

But when they took a left at the end of the tent village and followed the lane through a stand of trees her heart lifted because in the field beyond there was a very different calibre of accommodations which were, half building, and half tent, large, colourful and round.

“What are those?” Claire asked

“Yurts” she replied and pointed “We’re in the one at the end”

 

“Welcome to glamping” Anne announced and threw open the door and let Claire go inside.

“Wow” she exclaimed as she stepped inside, and she was astounded by what she saw.

There was one large room containing a double bed two sofa’s, a wardrobe, chest of drawers, a dressing table, fridge, microware and there was even a TV, and there were silk drapes descending from the canvas above and anchoring to the sides and gave the distinct feeling of “boudoir”.

 

After she had taken in all the room had to offer Anne opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Cava and suggested

“Let’s get changed and sit outside and enjoy this with the last of the sun”

“Oh lovely”

 

So, they sat and in deck chairs and drank as they watched the sun go down behind the trees and then Claire said

“Where’s the toilet? I need to pee”

“It’s just over there” Anne replied, pointing up the field at a red brick building about one hundred yards away.

“That’s the nearest one?” she exclaimed “I’ll never get there in time, I need to go now”

“Well go now!” Anne retorted

“Where?”

“In the bushes”

“But it’s dark in the bushes” she said gazing at the shrubbery “and it’s scary”

“Well its either the scary bushes, the long walk, or wet pants” Anne said and laughed

“I’ve got to go now” Claire said “Come with me”

“You fraidy cat” Anne said and roared with laughter

“Come on then”

And they walked the short distance to the shrubbery and then Claire slowly headed to the nearest bush to spend a penny, while Anne just stretched her legs, but she could hear her friend peeing in the undergrowth and it was really loud

“Is that you Claire, or is there a horse in there with you” she asked

“Hush, I’m trying to concentrate”

“is there anything I can help you with?” Anne offered

“No thank you, I can manage” she snapped and then the peeing ceased, and a moment later there was a good deal of rustling which soon escalated into muttered cursing before Claire emerged from the bushes carrying her shoes and then she stomped straight past Anne towards the yurt.

“I can’t believe you couldn’t book somewhere with indoor plumbing” she muttered “I do not like peeing in the woods”

“It was your choice” Anne pointed out which made Claire stop in her tracks, so Anne just walked past her and went into the yurt

“I don’t know why you would think I’d be intersested in all this hippy dippy shit for my birthday” Claire yelled after her and when she reached the yurt she stood in the doorway

“I didn’t bring you here for the hippy dippy shit I brought you here to get you in this yurt so you could enjoy the present I actually brought for you…” she said and then as she slipped off her dress she added “me”

“Oh” Claire said as she closed the door behind her and as she walked towards Anne she added “That puts a different slant on things”

 

 

The Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa – Corpus Christi

 

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 and one of the rooms was occupied by John and Christine.

It was in the early hours of the morning and Christine was laying partially clothed on the sofa and was snoring loudly as she lay in exactly the same position as she was when she was left sullied and exhausted the night before.

At the same time John was sleeping in an arm chair across the room but he awoke to the sight of Christine wearing a camisole, rucked up around her neck, a petticoat in a similar style around her waist, one stocking, still attached to her suspender and the other one around her ankle, and on close inspection of his own situation he realised he was completely naked.

He looked around the room and there were numerous items of clothing discarded hither and thither and several empty wine bottles, which given the circumstances he found himself in, was of no surprise.

However, he was surprised to see that the semi naked girl was on the sofa and he was in an armchair when there was a perfectly good four poster bed that had apparently gone unused.

But more amazing than that was the fact that only six months earlier

they hadn’t even liked each other let alone fancy each other, but the evidence was plain to see, that things had changed.    

 

After a few minutes Christine began to stir and emitted several satisfied sighs before looking over at John and giving him a smile.

Before she rose from the sofa and walked towards him on unsteady legs as she tottered her way towards him and giggled.

“Hello husband” she said and kissed him

“Can we go to bed now?”