How great is the feeling
Of love, love, love
Brought on the wings
Of a snow white dove
Sent by the angels
Who dwell high above
A love so perfect
It fits me like a
glove
My life was so empty
Of love, love, love
But to keep my life
full
You are the solution thereof
The lightning struck, intensely bright,
followed in almost the same instance, by the thunderclap directly overhead so
loud that it shook the car and then the rain began and fell heavily in large
drops beating a frantic tune on the car roof.
Then almost as quickly as the dark skies
arrived they were gone and the sun was out again, although it was a few moments
before the April shower stopped completely and a rainbow appeared in the sky.
He was parked by the village green which was
patterned with strips of freshly cut grass and when he got out of the car, the
mixture of sun, rain and cut grass produced a smell that was quite
intoxicating.
He locked the car and headed down the lane
and as if the switch on a great sound system had been flicked on, the bird life
in the trees bordering the green exploded into a cacophony of sound as they
emerged from their shelters to go about their spring business.
He turned off the lane which led past the
allotments and into the woods where nature and man had both left their mark.
The areas that had once been coppiced or
pollarded now went their own way and the woods were full of life.
On the borders of the woods the old cut and
lay hedge and the ancient hedgerows along the lanes teamed with a great
abundance of life of all kinds.
He reflected soberly on the idyllic scene and
concluded that all the visible life was either predator or prey but that did
not detract from its beauty for him, in fact it enhanced it if anything.
And that morning he was acutely aware of the
cycle of life and where he was on it.
But it wasn’t thoughts of his own mortality
that brought him to Teardrop Lake on such an inclement day.
60 year old Kevin Wilks had lived in
Shallowfield all his life, the first 22 with his parents, the next 31 with his
wife Sarah and the last 7 alone but for his grief.
But over the last 12 months he had been
spending a lot of time in the company of a widow by the name of Bella Richmond
They had reached a pivotal point in their
relationship which, if he allowed things to progress, was moving from
friendship to love and that was the problem.
Not that he didn’t love her or want to love
her, he did very much, but what was holding him back were thoughts of betrayal
and feelings of guilt as a consequence.
He was not an easy man to love but Bella
certainly loved him despite his reluctance to reciprocate her feelings.
But he had to make a decision, not that she
had issued him with an ultimatum or anything like that, she was patient and
understanding because she was a widow herself, though for many more years than
he had been, and she had been through the doubts and feelings of guilt and
betrayal.
The pressure he felt was self-inflicted
because he feared if he couldn’t give her the love she so clearly deserved
someone else would.
So that was what had taken him to the
tranquility of the woods where he always did him most important thinking and it
was in those woods where he felt close to Sarah, because they were “their”
woods and her ashes were scattered on the bluebell glade.
He was about thirty minutes into his walk
when the skies darkened again and the rain started to fall once more and he
knew it was too far for him to make a dash for the car because by the time he
reached the car he would have been soaked to the skin and so he quickly
scrabbled deeper into the wood fearful he would get even wetter if indeed that
were even possible.
The heavens opened just as he reached the
relative safety of a large oak tree and for a few moments he stood watching the
rain fall like stair rods and hammering into the ground of the clearing as
thunder rumbled nearby.
The shower lasted much longer than its
predecessor and the lightning strikes got brighter and brighter and the thunder
clapped louder and louder and grew nearer and nearer until it was directly
overhead and the thunder shook the wood and the lightning strikes accompanying
it were so bright he had to cover his eyes but there was another sound that
followed, which he couldn’t place.
As he stood there sheltering from the storm
he was cursing his decision to leave home, even though it was necessary for him
to get out and clear his head, because he had an important decision to make.
The storm moved away almost as quickly as it
arrived and so he made his move to get back to his car before the next April
showers arrived, it was his intention to press on along the path which led up
to Teardrop Lake but he had a feeling the next thundery shower wouldn’t be far
away.
As he hurried on his way he thought what a
wonderful and remarkable time spring was wherever you were but in the British
Isles the unpredictability transforms, almost in a heartbeat, from tranquility
to chaos and back again, but on balance he didn’t think he would want to live anywhere
else.
As he pressed on along the path towards the
lane he realized he had not been alone in the woods during the storm when he
heard some frantic shouting.
“Help us, please help us”
He stopped in his tracks as he wasn’t sure
where it came from but the call came again a minute later and he was able to
pin point the general direction the calls came from and sprinted off in that
direction.
When he reached the source of the shouting he
found that the voices were coming from beneath the splintered branches of a
broken birch tree which he assessed had been struck by lightening.
The largest bough with its attendant branches
had trapped two girls beneath it and it was one of the girls who had been doing
all the shouting while the other one was worryingly quiet.
As he quickly assessed the situation he was
soon joined by another man, little more than a boy really.
“What happened?” he asked breathlessly
“The tree fell down” the loud girl screamed
“Lightning strike” Kevin elaborated “Come on
let’s try and get them out”
Just at the moment they began extricating the
loud girl an elderly dog walker arrived on the scene
“Oh my goodness” she said “Can I do anything
to help”
“You could call 999” he said “Fire and
ambulance”
The loud girl, who he recognized, though he
couldn’t remember her name, had bruises and abrasions but was otherwise
unscathed but she was clearly in shock.
The quiet girl however lay with eyes closed
and was pinned beneath a large limb which lay across her hips and pelvis
He and the boy tried to lift it clear but
even with their combined strength they couldn’t even move it.
“It’s no good” he said resignedly “we need
more help, you go and wait at the end of the lane and direct the Emergency
services when they turn up”
The young man nodded and turned on his heels
and ran, so he turned his attention to the trapped girl who now had her eyes
open and her face was etched with pain.
“Hey honey” he said as he knelt down beside
her among the foliage and as he looked at her closely he recognized her as a
young woman that lived in the village “its India isn’t it?”
India Redmond was one of the nicer girls in
the village, she always dressed modestly, she was polite, friendly, and a great
athlete who ever since she was little she had been raising money for some good
cause or other, running 5 and 10k’s and he felt himself wondering at the
injustice of a tree falling on a sweet young woman while a cantankerous old
curmudgeon at the other end of the scale was spared.
After all she was in the early summer of her
life, in the first flush of youthful expectation while he was approaching his
December at an alarming speed.
“Yes” she replied
“Help is on the way” he said
“I can’t move my legs”
“Are you in pain?” He asked
“A little” she admitted
“And I’m scared” she added and took his hand
“You don’t have be scared, I’m with you” he
reassured her “And I’m not going anywhere”
“I’m still scared though” she said and
gripped his hand tightly
“I know honey” he said “but help is on its
way”
“But where is it, it’s been ages” her loud
friend shouted
“Hey it’s ok” he said and gave his coat to
her because she was in shock “here wear this”
He wanted to focus all his attention on India
and not her hysterical friend but once he had the coat around her shoulders she
calmed down and started rocking.
In the act of taking his coat off, his
crucifix was exposed and it hung loosely over his collar and India stared at it
and asked
“Do you believe in God?”
“I do” he said proudly
“I’m not sure if I do” she said meekly
“God doesn’t care about that, he still
believes in you even if you’re not sure about him” He responded lightheartedly
“But I haven’t been inside a church since I
was little” she said urgently and held his hand again
“That’s ok” he said “I don’t go to the
library every week but that doesn’t mean they’ll take my library card away”
“But Church is more important” she said
anxiously
“And I’m a stranger to God”
“No you’re not” he reassured her “and besides
it will be many years before you get to stand before him”
“I think it will be sooner than that” she
said and winced “And I’m scared”
“Nothing to fear” he said “we’ll soon have
you out from under there”
“I think it’s bad” she admitted “so I need to
know”
“Hey it’s ok” he reassured her
“How will he know me?” she pleaded
“He will just have to look into your heart
and he will know you instantly” he said softy
“But what if when he looks into my heart he
doesn’t like what he finds there?” she asked urgently
“Why would he?” he said “Because when he
looks in your heart he will find it full of love”
And with those words he gently squeezed her
hand and her face relaxed into a smile, and a peaceful countenance replaced the
pain etched face, then she closed her eyes and slipped away.
And as her hand went limp in his he sat on
his haunches and sobbed.
Five minutes later the young man returned
excitedly at full pelt to herald the arrival of the cavalry but fell to his
knees on viewing the scene of the rocking girl and the old man crying as he
held a dead girls hand.
He sat in the woods as the paramedics
attended to India’s friend and the firefighters, who had arrived on scene to
rescue a stricken girl instead had to recover her body.
When he had watched her being taken away he
walked solemnly back to his car as the rain fell once more but he made no
effort to shelter or hurry.
He sat in the car and made the decision that
he needed to tell someone about what he had experienced in those woods as a
beautiful young woman’s life ebbed away and the only person that would do was
Bella because she was his future.
He pulled up outside her house and walked up
the path looking like a drowned rat, and seeing him through her kitchen window
she rushed to the door.
“What on earth have you been up to?” she
asked lightheartedly but he didn’t smile in response and tears welled up in his
eyes so she extended her arms in embrace and he wept.
The morning after India passed away Kevin and
Bella walked hand in hand to the Redman’s house and they sat in the mournful
house and he told them of her last minutes and the peaceful way she left the
world and brought them comfort in knowing she was not distressed nor frightful
and that she smiled in the moment that she slipped away.
The family were so grateful at the knowledge
that their darling daughter didn’t suffer and for his kindness to her in her
final minutes that they asked if he would give a reading at the funeral.
When the day of the funeral came it was
greeted by a glorious sunny spring day and such was India’s popularity that
everyone wanted to pay their respects, however seating in the church was quite
inadequate for the numbers wanting to attend.
So St Mary’s was packed to the gunwales and
it seemed like the whole village had turned out to say goodbye, so well loved
was she in the village as her young life had touched so many,
The village green and every available inch of
verge and lane held the throng of mourners.
The service was a very moving one and when it
came to the moment for his reading he rose from his pew where Bella had been
holding his hand and walked slowly to the lectern.
He stood and looked out at the sea of faces
watching him and he was suddenly afraid, but then he remembered the strength
and dignity of the courageous girl they were there to honour so he took the
folded paper from his pocket and began.
“I would like to read a poem to you which I
think sums up the loss of such a young and vital girl taken in the early summer
of her life,
“Ode to an athlete dying young” by
A.E.Matthews.
The time you won your
town the race,
We chaired you through the marketplace;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
As home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners
come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lass, to slip
betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night
has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell
the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its
echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that
early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.
Afterwards he returned to his seat with tears
in his eyes but at the end of the service he was in no hurry to leave and he
and Bella were the last two in the Church and as they were walking slowly to
the door Kevin stopped suddenly and said
“There’s something I need to say Bella”
“That sounds ominous” she retorted
“I hope not” he said and turned to face her
“Oh?” she said “Is everything alright?”
“I know this may be a strange time to do
this” he began “but I’ve been putting it off, and putting it off, but it has to
be done”
Bella was speechless, she didn’t think it at
all appropriate to break up with her at the funeral.
“The thing is” he continued, “I want the next
time that I stand in front of the congregation in this church to be our
wedding”
“What?” she asked unsure she had heard him
correctly
“Will you marry me?” he asked
“Yes, of course I’ll marry you” she replied
and kissed him
I don’t want silk lingerie
Or delicate handmade
lace
I don’t want designer
frocks
Or makeup for my face
I don’t want French
perfume
Or expensive jewellery
I don’t want a
penthouse flat
With luxurious foolery
I don’t want foreign
holidays
Or bouquets of every
hue
I don’t even want a
sports car
I just want a man
that’s true
We stood on a hill top high
With the golden sun up
in the sky
We bathed in each
others 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
There's something about a cellist
That really turns me on
A female cellist obviously
In a low cut evening dress
Of emerald green velvet
The great polished instrument
Between her long black stockined legs
Her long brunette hair
Dancing across her naked shoulders
Brushing her alabaster skin
In frantic rhythm to her playing
As she delivers her rendition
To a largely disinterested audience
Sat in the lavish surroundings
Of a grand hotel lobby
A pale willowy figure called Deidre
Purposefully thrashing out a piece by Elgar
Or playing some uplifting Vivaldi
Maybe some Mesmeric Schubert
Or music to slash your wrists by
Courtesy of Mahler or Wagner
The music itself is unimportant
Ok its not cellists that turns me on
But there's something about Deidre
That definitely does
When she's playing the cello
Shallowfield sat on the southern edge of
the Finchbottom Vale and was bordered on the other side by the Dancingdean
forest and the town’s fortunes had always relied largely upon forestry and
agriculture for its survival.
In the post war years with rationing and a
shortage of work a lot of people moved away from the area and it only just
survived and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.
Only a few of the houses around the Lake
were thriving, a lot of the houses had been rented out and those that hadn’t were
in a poor state of repair, some too such an extent they were little more than
ruins.
But by the 70s however things were
beginning to change, thanks mainly to tourism as a result of an increase in
leisure time.
This trend was reflected by the fact that
the previously derelict Shallowfield Lodge, which had been inherited by a young
couple from Lincolnshire, Rob and Sheryl Brown, was being turned into a Hotel.
From then on Shallowfield went from
strength to strength which was echoed by the fortunes of the Claremont Hotel.
It was once the home of a wealthy Downshire
family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse
as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then,
particularly in the years between the wars and had been used for many things
over the post war years but it wasn’t until the 60s that it became The Claremont Hotel.
However things had got tough in the Hotel
trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like
the Claremont needed to offer something extra to attract the guests.
In the early summer a new manager was
appointed, Matthew Millward, and he was an instant hit with the locals
because
he was young, tall, dark and handsome, physically fit, well-toned and had a
reputation as a fair minded guy, which had very much preceded him.
He was 28 years old and his father owned the Millward Manor chain of
hotels and he was grooming him to one day take over the reins of his worldwide
hotel empire, the problem was that Matt had no head for business and he felt
that he was more of an artistic soul.
Which could possibly have been ignored but for the fact that he had
broken off his engagement with the granddaughter of his father’s oldest friend.
However that in itself wasn’t what had him exiled, it was Elaine’s
attempted suicide, not that his action had caused her mental meltdown, it was
rather more her mental instability being the deciding factor that forced him to
end the engagement.
So it was decided to send Matt to the Claremont Hotel where he could do
no real harm until the dust settled.
When he first found out he was being sent
to Shallowfield, Matt was very unhappy, he was a city boy, born and bred, and
he viewed being sent to the country as purgatory, but no one was more surprised
than he was when he found that he actually loved it, it was a beautiful place,
it was quiet and the air was clean and he felt immediately at home.
When he first found out he was being sent
to Shallowfield Matt was very unhappy, he was a city boy, born and bred, and he
viewed being sent to the country as purgatory, but no one was more surprised
than he was when he found that he actually loved it, it was a beautiful place,
it was quiet and the air was clean and he felt immediately at home.
After the broken engagement and the
resulting fall out Matthew Millward decided that he would not under any
circumstances get himself romantically entangled while he was on punishment
duty.
But there is a very apt saying which goes “never on your
own doorstep” which he had clearly never heard because on his first day he fell
head over heels for the Hospitality Manager, Sarah Poole, although in his
defence the feeling was mutual.
Although apart from two very passionate
kisses, the first initiated by her and the second by him, and the fact they
were hopelessly in love with each other nothing else happened.
She was five foot eight with short red
hair, in a pixie cut, mesmerizing green eyes and a cute figure with curves in
all the right places and long slender legs.
Sarah was 26 years old and wasn’t looking
for a relationship either because she was married, albeit to an alcoholic who
hadn’t had shown her any marital attention for two years but she was still
married to him nonetheless.
Sarah had worked at the hotel for since she
left school, five years in housekeeping,
five more in hospitality, and for two of those as Manager and she loved her
job.
Despite the fact that Matthew was sent to the
Claremont as a punishment and possessed no head for business he surprised his
father as well as himself by doing a very acceptable job of managing the hotel
and had grown the corporate side of the business and it was becoming a very popular
venue for functions.
This was as a result in no small measure to his decision to promote the
former Hospitality Manager Sarah Poole.
This was after Martin Tyrer tendered his resignation, he had been a
loyal employee of the Millward Manor group for ten years and had been the
Assistant Manager at the Claremont for 5 of those and when the Manager’s
vacancy came up he believed he was a shoe in for the job.
So when Matthew Millward was parachuted in over his head it was just too
much for him to take.
It left Matthew in a very difficult position as he needed someone who
knew the place inside out and Sarah Poole was the only person that really
fitted the bill so he offered her the job.
Matthews father was particularly pleased with him, there had been no reported
mishaps and he had turned around the fortunes of the hotel, and so he invited
him up to Abbottsford for the weekend for a celebratory meal but as he was
conscious that his success was due more to Sarah Poole’s efforts than his own
he dragged her along as well.
The following weekend he went on his own, the meal was very good and
it was nice to see his parents but he didn’t stay the whole weekend as he was
missing the quiet of Claremont.
And in truth he was a little embarrassed taking all the credit for the
success at the Claremont plus he rather missed Sarah.
Matthew felt very pleased with himself for
persuading Sarah to take the assistant Managers job although it was for purely
selfish reasons.
Having Sarah as assistant manager, who was
not only hard working and diligent but could also handle the guests very well,
meant he could comfortably leave her in charge while he was doing what he did
best, letting other people get on with it.
On Saturday night after a lavish meal Matthew said goodbye to his
parents and drove back to Shallowfield and it was 4 am when he pulled up outside the hotel, and
he was surprised to see there were lights burning in his office so he decided
to investigate, and on looking through his office window he saw Sarah, was
asleep in his chair behind his desk.
Matthew smiled
and then turned and headed to the entrance and
when he reached his office door he could clearly see her sleeping behind his
desk.
Sarah Poole was five foot eight with long
shapely legs, but in his leather chair she looked quite small, almost
childlike, her head, with her pixie cut red hair was turned to the side and she
had an angelic look on her face.
It was a pretty face that he was very
familiar with, he saw it every day at work and every night in his dreams.
As she slept in his chair she was wearing a
turquoise green skirt, a rather creased white blouse and black opaque tights.
He tip toed in
and closed the door behind him then he sat on the corner of his desk and
watched her sleeping.
“Good morning” he
said as she opened her mesmerizing green eyes.
“What are you
doing here?” she said startled “I thought you were in Abbottsford”
“I was, I came
back early” he replied
“More to the
point, what are you doing here?”
“Kenny” she
replied, Kenny was her alcoholic husband.
“What’s he done
this time?” he asked
“He’s drunk” she
replied
“So what’s new”
he said ironically
“Nothing, but
this time he’s been hammered for ten days straight”
“You should leave
him” he said
“And go where?
And do what?” she snapped “He’s blown all our money on booze, there’s nothing
left for me to start again on my own”
“But he’s never
going to change” Matthew said
“I know” she
agreed resignedly
“So why don’t you
live in?” he asked
“I need something
more than a maid’s room” she said sinking back in the chair
“That wasn’t what
I had in mind” he said
“I don’t know
what you mean” she said with a confused expression on her face and then when
the confusion cleared she said “oh no I can’t share with you”
“God I wasn’t
suggesting that” he said with horror
“You don’t have
to sound quite so horrified” she said
“Sorry” he said
“but what I was suggesting was the Gate Lodge”
“Gate Lodge?” she
responded
“Yes it’s the
building down by the gate”
“I guessed that
much, what about it?” she asked
“Well apparently when Martin Tyrer was assistant manager he had the use
of the Lodge was part of his package” Matthew said
“No, Martin lived
in the village” she corrected him
“Out of choice”
he said “but he didn’t have to”
“Are you sure?”
she asked
“Yes I saw it in
his personnel file the other day” Matthew said
“What were you
looking at that for?” she asked
“I had to do a
reference” he replied
“Really?”
“Yes his file is
still on the desk somewhere” He said as he glanced over his shoulder and all of
a sudden she rose up from the chair and reached over and grabbed the file
marked “Private and confidential” and began reading it.
“You were telling
the truth” she said with surprise “So I can live there”
“Why would I
lie?” he asked affronted
“I thought you
were just being nice” she said as she leant over the desk rereading it
“That doesn’t
sound like me” he said
”No it doesn’t”
she agreed
“You cheeky cow”
he said and pinned her to the desk and tickled her mercilessly until she was
laughing so hard no sound was coming out of her so he stopped and let her
regain her breath.
He bent down and
kissed one cheek and caressed the other and said
“Go and get some
sleep, in one of the vacant rooms”
“Ok boss” she
purred
“And tomorrow get
housekeeping to prepare the lodge and then you can move in”
“Thank you
Matthew” she said and kissed him, but the kiss was more than gratitude
I was drawn to her
Like a moth
to a flame
My eyes
were drawn to her
Slender
frame
Her hypnotic green eyes
Deep and intense like precious emeralds
Held me entranced,
Paralyzed like a serpent’s prey
Her skin was lustrous
Like a fresh picked peach
And her cheeks glowed
With the faintest hint of red
Her mouth opened
Lips like the petals of an open flower
Were moist as if with morning dew
She spoke, her words soft
And her voice smooth as silk
Mesmerized me like music
I answered her without hearing the words
It was almost dreamlike
My heartbeat fast in my chest
As I swam in and out of reality
I felt her hand in mine
And she led me into the garden
Where we strolled together
Through the fragrant twilight of moonbeams
Her scent was heady as the exotic blossom
Of orchids in spring
My heart still pounded
As her mesmeric voice
Like an angel’s whisper
Led me on through the moonlight
I seemed to float through the evening
Almost disembodied
And in those many magical moments
I surrendered my heart and soul
To the vision named Clarissa
