Mornington-By-Mere – (73) R and R

 

The Varney’s lived in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.

Which was a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12^th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.

He lived and worked up at Mornington Field which had once been an RAF base but had been converted into a mixture of commercial and residential units.

They lived in one of the Cottages in Dulcet Mill Lane, number 5, in the part of the Village known as Manorside and they had lived there together all of their married life.

70 year old George was employed at the Mornington Brewery before he retired while his wife Tracey was a stay at home mum, raising their six children.

They were obviously all grown up now and most of them had children of their own and were now in every corner of Downshire.

There youngest was Harry who was a civil engineer and he had been working away in Oman for six months and had returned to the UK to catch his breath and recharge his batteries before he returned to Muscat for his next 6 month stint away.

His home was in Abbottsford which at the time was having some major renovations doing to it so it wasn’t the most conducive location for rest and recuperation so he planned to stay at his parents’ house while they were away in Portugal for a couple of weeks so he would have the house to himself which was perfect for what he had in mind which was nothing.

He was completely knackered and was understandably looking forward to a good few days of doing nothing very much at all before his friends realised he was back in Downshire and an endless round of frenetic activity of sports bars and long boozy lunches, clubbing and the pursuit of gratuitous sex began.

But everyone knows the saying about the “best laid plans”, they are absolutely pointless when fate takes a hand.

Things began to go wrong at the break of day on his first night in Mornington, when a crack of thunder almost blew him out of bed, and then the storm rumbled round for hours after that, making sleep nearly impossible, he would just drift off into slumber and then CRASH and he was wide awake again, then things would calm down and he would begin to dose and then CRASH and his eyes were wide open once more.

He gave up after the 9^th or 10^th time and got up and went downstairs for coffee.

The storm raged on for another hour or so but when it finally petered out he decided not to go back to bed and pottered around the house instead, spending the first few hours of his well-earned respite doing housework.

He had been home for less than 24hrs and couldn’t believe how much mess he had made.

About midmorning the sun came out so he thought he might as well take a walk down to the Old Mill, from where he could make his presence known to his friends, so Harry went upstairs to shower and shave.

He arrived back downstairs after his shower and had just picked up his keys when something in the garden caught his eye, just on the edge of the patio and the something was bent over a wheelbarrow. 

“Very nice” he said to himself as he took advantage of the view up her skirt.

“Oh very nice indeed” he said as to his absolute delight she reached for something at the other end of the barrow and in an effort to prevent herself overbalancing her left leg shot out sideways and the resulting rearrangement of her buttocks caused her left cheek to become completely exposed as the knicker leg rolled between her fleshy cheeks so he put his keys down on the table and sat in the conservatory to get a better look.

To his enjoyment the girl stayed bent over the barrow for a minute or so with one naked buttock on show and then she stood up and after ungloving her hand she lifted her skirt and slowly extracted her knickers from her bum.   

When she was stood up he could see she was quite tall with long chestnut hair but other than that there was no clue as to her identity.

It wasn’t anyone he knew, he was certain of that.

The mystery gardener then walked to the side of the wheelbarrow and leant over it again, this time presenting him with a side view of her.

The thick chestnut hair obscured her face but then he wasn’t really looking at her face as her rather large frontage fell forward and filled her top and offered him a tantalizing taster through the armhole of her vest top.

He thought for a moment that apart from her work boots, socks and gloves, the rest of her apparel wasn’t really vocation appropriate, a vest top, short skirt and impractical underwear, not that he was complaining, he was just enjoying the show.

Which was far more enticing than any floor show his mates might have dragged him to.

He stared at every inch of the horny gardener except for her face but he was beginning not to care about that, which was the point that she stood up and turned towards him and smiled and he did know her, it was Verity Lamb, his first ever girlfriend, not that she had looked as she did at that precise moment back then, when they were at school together twenty years earlier.

He stood up and opened the door and walked toward her.

“Hi Verity” he said “what are you doing here?”

“This is what I do” she replied “I’m a gardener by profession”

“You’re not dressed like a professional gardener” he retorted

“It’s my day off”

“What?” he asked rather confusedly

“Your mum told me you were going to be home alone while they were away” she said as she walked towards him

“So, I thought I’d come round and get you interested in the gardener”

Harry said nothing but swallowed hard and then Verity added

“I’m thinking I succeeded”

“Definitely” he replied

“Well, are you going to invite me in?” she said and kissed him “or do I have to do all the work”

“Well put like that” he said “come in”

And led her by the hand inside and there they stayed as he spent the first three days of his R&R with the buxom gardener doing everything but rest and relax.

I AM NO SUPERMAN

 

I am no superman

No man of steel,

I am not superhuman

Not endowed with special powers

 

I have no heart of stone

Nor feet of clay

I am human

Prick my finger, see me bleed

I am no angel

Nor am I devil

I am not inhuman

Not devoid of emotion

 

I am just a man

Ordinary, average

Unremarkable

With hopes and dreams

Plans and aspirations

And a heart to give

When I meet her

Mornington-By-Mere – (72) The Rustic Stile

 

The Smiths were tenants at Smithfield Farm and had been since the 19^th century and 77 year old Sydney Smith was the head of the Smith Clan at the time Mornington Field was returned back to the ownership of the Mornington Estate but the Smiths didn’t regain the farmland they lost when it was compulsory purchased by the War Department in 1914, but despite that the family had thrived and the farm was providing them with a good living.

 

Sydney had been married to Mary for 55 years and it all began where the public right of way crossed Smithfield farmland via a Stile on the boundary between the farm and the lane.

The rustic stile still stands sentinel, marking that special place where the fates conspired to ensure that the soul mates should meet.
They were purposely treading opposing paths when they met at that rustic spot.

Sydney Smith was heading back towards the farm from the top twenty acre field with his brother and Mary Watson and a friend were taking a short cut to Apple Gate Farm where they were stable girls.   
Mary reached the stile first and Sydney helped her cross by taking her hand, which was small and silken soft, guiding her safely to his side, and despite the presence of each other’s companions, they were to all intents and purposes quite alone, and in those moments when hand touched hand they at once beheld their lives from that point on would be forever altered and were content with that destiny.

 
The following year they were married in the Village at St Winifred’s Church and every year they celebrated two anniversary’s, the first one was of their wedding and the second anniversary, in many ways more important, was of their first meeting at the rustic stile which stands like a monument to mark the place of alteration, a significant place, a spiritual place often revisited and on such sojourns they would find renewal as the energizing memory of that special life changing moment, And assailing their senses, essentially invigorating, like imbibing the waters from the fountain of youth and their hearts would once again resound with joyousness and sweet moments of romance.
Those excited tingles of loves first passion, when hearts beat faster and desire courses through every fibre, the thrill of blossoming love adding to the strata of their love laid down through all their years together and by returning to the place of loves wondrous inception they keep their love alive, and in equal measure love returns the favour.

SHE IS

 

She is embedded in my heart

I imagine her inside my head

I picture her in my life

Safely in my arms

Or sleeping in my bed

 

She is ingrained in my soul

I imagine us with a family

I picture our life together

Far off in the future

With cherished memories

 

She is woven through my fabric

She is at the very heart of me

I feel her hand in mine

And her kisses on my skin

Her scent is exotic and heady

 

Though she is in my every thought

And my dreams of her persist

I have to confess that

As much as I love her

She doesn’t know that I exist

Mornington-By-Mere – (71) Love Letter’s

 

Jennifer Bardsley lived in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.

Which was a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12^th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.

She lived and worked up at Mornington Field, which had once been an operational RAF base, which had been converted into a mixture of commercial and residential units.

Jen lived in apartment 1O of Lancaster House, which was converted from the old Officers Mess and she was employed by Paige Turners as did the love of her life, David Norman.

The Normans ran the general store and post office in the village and also staffed the chemist shop for its limited opening times.

 

David was almost 22 years old, quiet, unassuming, thoughtful and intelligent and totally head of heels in love.

He loved Mornington and he didn’t want to spend his life anywhere else but would have gladly left the village just to be close to Jennifer.

He also quite liked the Grocery trade, and could quite easily have done it full time like his father and Uncles had, but he was also a well-read young man, and as he was an intelligent young man his parents didn’t want to stifle him, so he worked part time in the shop along with working full time up at Paige Turners.

So with him and Jennifer both working up at Paige Turners and both fancying the pants off each other it should have been a shoe in for them to get together, but that was not the case.

David was willing, but Jennifer had reservations and that was because she was 8 years older than he was.

 

He was a singularly unremarkable looking man to look at, Mr average, ordinary, not unattractive but not attractive either, with pale skin, sandy coloured hair and crystal blue eyes.

On the first day they met Jennifer fell in love with him when she looked into those eyes for the first time.

David was in simple terms one of life’s moths, plain and bland and always drawn to the light but never a source of light.

While Jennifer was the complete opposite, if he was a moth then she was very definitely a butterfly.

She was a strikingly good looking young woman, not supermodel beautiful, but very lovely, tall and voluptuous with luscious black hair and hypnotic blue eyes.

 

But despite the fact that they were the sun and the moon in each other’s skies and were besotted from the first moment they entered the others orbit Jennifer put the brakes on her feelings and rebuffed David’s advances because she didn’t think that the age difference could be overcome.

She envisaged jibes from colleagues and villagers alike about the cougar and her toy boy.

In reality the vast majority would have just been happy for them and as far as David was concerned she could have been 20 years older than him and he would still have wanted her.

 

Jennifer’s job at Paige Turners was as a locator of hard to find books,   rare books, first editions and the illusive.

She possessed an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the printed word and knew how to sort the wheat from the chaff and her talents were invaluable to Paige Turners and they were fortunate to have her and they very nearly lost her when the move was made from Finchbottom to Mornington.

She was one of the doubting Thomas’s along with Annette West and Carole Beverley who were unsure about such a move.

But once they saw the village and the standard of the accommodation on offer they all signed on the dotted line without any further hesitation.

Her skill at seeking out the illusive and the obscure meant that Paige Turners were the go to people if you wanted something different, special or that which had eluded you.

So it was in her role as book expert extraordinaire that she made the drive one Monday morning over to Clerembeax Palace which was to the west of Abbeyvale situated between Grace Hill and Bushy Down on the outskirts of the village of Clerembeax St Giles.

The Clerembeax’s 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.

He had lived alone, apart from a butler and a cook, for 50 years after the tragic deaths of his two sons in the hedonistic sixties as a result of an excess of drugs and alcohol.

His wife chose to deal with the loss by taking her own life the day after the funeral while Marcus decided his best course of action was to turn his back on the world and hide himself away.  

Following his death in the autumn of 2015 with no direct heirs it took the Clerembeax solicitors, Beaumont, Villiers and Goodfellow, more than a year to find a legitimate Heir to inherit the estate, and that was 50-year-old distant cousin Yvonne Labuschagne, and she took up residence in the January of 2017.

She was by profession a masseuse and had worked for many years along with her late husband at the Dancingdean Spa Hotel in Childean.

But with her inheritance she had the means and the venue to open her own Spa at the Clerembeax Palace but the house needed work.

The exterior was fine as the reclusive Marcus had been sensible enough to keep the fabric of the building well maintained.

She wasn’t sure about keeping the word “Palace” in the name because the building didn’t really look very palatial, mainly due to the fact that the original Clerembeax Palace burned down in the 19^th century so the present manifestation was in fact a rather gaudy Victorian monstrosity in comparison, though it was not without its charms.

The interior had stood the test of time far less well and needed at the very least a lot of TLC.

The 19^th century plumbing certainly wouldn’t stand the rigors of a 21^st century spa and the electrics needed a complete rewire.

While the library was both a blessing and a curse, the latter because it took up so much space and the former because it was full of valuable old books which was where Jennifer Bardsley and Paige Turners came in.

 

For the new owner of the Clerembeax Palace, Yvonne Labuschagne, the library was both a blessing and a curse, the latter because it took up so much space and the former because it was full of valuable old books which was where Jennifer Bardsley and Paige Turners came in.

Because the revenue from the book sale would go a long way to paying for the refit, or at least that was what Yvonne hoped.

 

When people were looking for a particular book, or a particular edition and they weren’t readily available they went on the “wish list” and it was that list that she was hoping would be much reduced after her week in Clerembeax.

 

After first meeting Yvonne and having a brief chat over coffee Jennifer entered the musty library of the once great house with its leather upholstered chairs and oak panelled walls and she instantly felt at home, it was after all her perfect place.

She spent the first hour just casually perusing the packed shelves and just in that short time she had found four titles on the wish list.

 

She spent the first four days doing a rough appraisal of the library and gave Yvonne a ball park figure of what she might expect at auction from the rarest volumes and she nearly fainted.

But to catalogue the whole library would take a little while longer and she would need reinforcements to complete the task.

The understanding when Paige Turners undertook the appraisal was that they would have first refusal on the contents at the market value but they recommended O’Sullivan and Springthorpe to sell the really valuable items at auction and Paige Turners would take a small commission. 

 

On Friday she decided that before driving home she would spend a couple of hours relaxing in the library so she took a seat in a Chesterfield chair beside the fire and in consummate comfort she began to read.

But her chosen reading was not one of the myriad of leather bound tomes that filled the oak shelves from floor to ceiling, nor a rare first edition, of which there were so many, despite her having her choice of all the literary classics, with their gold embossed titles stamped into the leather, it wasn’t one of those.

In fact Jennifer’s selection wasn’t a book at all it was a collection of letters neatly tied in faded red ribbons and as she began to read them they took her breath away, for each beautifully hand written page was part of a remarkable love story.

The lifelong love story about a most extraordinary couple, whose depth of love was evidenced in every eloquent syllable.

As she read on, their love affair was revealed to her as the most exceptional love story she had ever read or known of.

For this lovingly devoted couple who billed and cooed in copperplate script on every scented page and shared their hearts love and their deepest feelings in unguarded detail, had never met.

“How could that be” she said aloud

She thought their love was evident, in fact it was palpable on every page of their intimate personnel correspondence.

“Poppycock” she exclaimed “that’s not what this is”

Correspondence did not in any form convey the true meaning of their substance.

The tangibility was in their Love letters that was the only way to say it.
Although they had begun to write in the innocence of childhood as mere pen pals, for a project set by School, a chore that had to be done didn’t remain burdensome for long as they had fallen in love.

 

The flowery words of an affaire d’amour, echoed in the calligraphy on every page, in each revealing billet doux, more affectionate, romantic and intimate than its passionate predecessor.

She read on as they billed and cooed on every page in each lovingly constructed sentence, heavily laced with innuendo and dripping with sensual longing, subtle yet explicit at the same time and flavoured with delicious nuances, flirtatious and lustful, romantic and affectionate.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she read of a love of such perfect purity, not it had to be said for its pureness of thought but for the absence of any hope of physicality.

For their love was star-crossed, because she was an invalid, bed ridden, stricken with polio as a child, while he was a subject of an enemy state and because their two nations were at war she couldn’t go to him even if her health had permitted.

He in turn was unable to go to her for fear of capture and imprisonment so they could never meet, would never meet.

And as Jennifer read on it was obvious to the reader that they were content in that fact, for their love transcended the physical.

So they made love via their sweet missives, a love that never faded or faltered, in an affair lasting more than forty years, which only ended with his death.

Jennifer stopped to wipe her eyes and then read the final pages which revealed the one and only public acknowledgement of the lifelong love affair.

That acknowledge was in his will when he expressed as his dying wish that her letters, which were so precious to him and cherished during his lifetime, should be returned to his love, so that they at least should lie together.

On receipt of the letter and the news that her cherished lover had left the world she was so broken hearted that she died a week after receiving them and with her death the lovers could be united at last.

 

Jennifer sat in the library and sobbed her heart out for an hour and when she had finished crying she

Said loudly

“You’re a bloody fool”

She sat upright and wiped her eyes and added

“She couldn’t have the man she loved, and she loved him till she died”

“But you can, and you’ve done nothing about it”

She left the library and marched to her room talking to herself the whole way

“She never met the love of her life and you see the man you love every day”

She quickly threw her things in her bag

“You just fret about what people will think of you, well sod them, sod them all”

“Every day you see him and you’ve done nothing about it”

She repeated then she set her chin defiantly and added 

“Well that changes today”

She left Clerembeax Palace without even pausing to say goodbye and drove back to Mornington at breakneck speed and went straight to Paige Turners where without even pausing for breath she marked inside without acknowledging anyone until she spotted David, and she made a beeline for him and ignoring the fact that he was in conversation with a colleague and without speaking she went straight up to him and kissed him passionately in full view of the whole staff.

“Well it’s about time” Paige said and everyone agreed “We should send her away more often”

LOVES METAPHOR

 

Not even the angels above

Could make a better match

So please be with me

And I will make you happy

Such is the depth of my lasting love

Intense and profound

Deeper than the deepest ocean

Enduring till that watery abyss

Dries to sun baked desert

And its powdery form runs

Through your fingers

And loves metaphor is blown away

Like smoke on the wind

Mornington-By-Mere – (70) Cathy’s Tale

The Maddocks family lived in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere in the Finchbottom Vale which nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.

Which was a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12^th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.

They lived in one of the Brooke Side Cottages, number 1, in the part of the Village known as Manorside.

 

Cathy Maddocks was an attractive twenty nine year old widow who lived with her six year old twins, Lily and Iris, and an 18 year old step daughter Gillian.

Cathy’s husband John was much older than she was when they married but he was the love of her life and she was absolutely devastated when he died suddenly.

After the bottom fell out of her world she spent the subsequent two years following his passing in loneliness and celibacy and every night her dreams were filled with images of the man she so desperately loved and vivid pictures of the physical expression of their love which was why she woke up every morning exhausted and in tears.

Most days she would wake early enough to cry her tears and compose herself before she started her day but on one particular morning her 6 year old twins charged into the room and leapt on the bed before she barely got started so she hid her face from her children until she could show them a happy face.

Plan (b) was to cry her tears in the shower while Gillian gave the twins their breakfast, which was all going very well until the water went cold.

“Bollocks” she snapped and turned the water off.

“Perfect bloody timing”

It was so frustrating as the shower had been playing up recently and she had been meaning to ask her brothers best friend Dave Plunkett, who had his own business in Shallowfield, to look at it but she hadnt got around to it and as she stepped out of the shower Cathy really wished that she had.

That only left Plan (c) so Cathy dried herself and returned to her bedroom.

She knelt on the bed with a large white bath sheet wrapped around her and facing her dressing table mirror she put her head in her hands and sobbed her heart out.

 

Her tears flowed unrestrained when she became aware of voices on the landing and she looked to the door.

“Don’t come in, don’t come in, please don’t come in” she screamed in her head and the danger passed so she shed her tears in peace until she ended in a panting sobbing heap.

Cathy remained doubled over on her bed for a full five minutes after she finished then she raised herself up and wiped her eyes and attended to her makeup before she dressed so she could go about her day. 

 

Cathy had pledged after her husband’s death that she would never share her heart with a man again and she closed her heart to love for anyone other than the twins and Gillie.

There wasn’t much in the way of extended family and of those that did exist the Maddocks were only in contact with her brother Pete and his wife Clare and for Cathy that was enough.

 

Although she kept the world at arms length and the family were very happy there were always occasions when she had to let the outside world in.

Such as when the shower went on the fritz and she needed a plumber, so she had to call her brothers best friend David Plunkett.

A call that Dave was only to willing to answer, without a second thought, because Dave had admired Cathy from afar since he was in year seven.

Cathy was in the year above him but his friendship with Pete brought them into the same sphere on a regular basis.

Unfortunately he never managed to stay in her orbit long enough to make an impact but he always lived in hope of being noticed until the day when she married John Maddox and then he thought she was lost to him forever.

When John died suddenly after 7 years he saw a glimmer of hope but he had to sit on his hands while she went through the grieving process, but he didn’t know it would take over two years.  

So when he took the call from her for the plumbing job he thought maybe it was finally his time.

 

When the day came to look at the problem it was something of an anticlimax as he barely even got a glimpse of Cathy, and he only really got to see the step daughter Gillian who he thought was very protective of her stepmum when he asked where she was.

She also hung around him and his apprentice Owen a lot and Dave was almost certain that if Owen chose to make a play for her that he would have been warmly welcomed, but he wasn’t there to play matchmaker.

 

It was a similar story a month later when there was a leak in the kitchen and he only got to see Gillian so it wasn’t until three months after that when the boiler died that he finally managed to reaquaint himself with Cathy.

It was a day when he was on his own but it was not an altogether happy reunion as he found her colder and more distant than before and she had thawed very little by the time he reached the end of the job.

“Well that’s me done” he said as he packed his tools away 

“Is there anything else you need me to do before I head off?”    

“Um” she responded and then fell silent again

Dave waited for her to speak again but when she didn’t he said

“Ok, well if you have a problem you have my number”

But as he reached the door she blurted out  

“Yes, yes there is”

“Ok” he retorted and returned to the kitchen “what do you need?”

There was a long pause and then without looking at him she quietly said

“I want you to kiss me” Cathy said

“What?” he asked almost certain he had misheard

“I want you to kiss me” she repeated and he plopped down on a chair.

If Dave was surprised by her request then it wasn’t as much as a fraction of the surprise Cathy fely, in fact she was astonished.

Even though she had been wanting to do it ever since his first visit to fix the shower.

Because even though he had not seen her she had watched him through the partly opened bedroom door and from that moment on she had thought of little else but kissing him.

And very very much so on that day, even more than usual, because Gillian had to go to work early so she had to breakfast the children and get them ready for school and she had to let Dave in and with him in the house and needing access to every room she couldn’t hide herself away after she dropped the girls at school.

She had always known that Dave fancied her, she had known it for years and she also knew by the way he looked at her that he still did.

 

“I’m not sure” he said not beleiving his good fortune.

“Oh please Dave” she entreated “I havent felt the touch of a man lips since John passed and….” 

“And?”

“And I know you want to” she said

“Ok” he agreed

They never made eye contact all during the discussion, infact she never looked at him once, but after hearing his acquiescence she sat on his lap with her back towards him.

As soon as her bum hit his lap she turned to face him and leant in for the kiss.

 

Although Gillie Hopcroft was Cathy’s stepdaughter it was only by virtue of the fact that she had married her stepfather John.

After losing her father when she was four years old, she lost her mother four years after that and then when she was 9 her stepfather John married Cathy, who she fell in love with imediately and nothing that followed over the following 9 years altered that love. 

The only thing that came close was when she made a startling discovery.

 

Cathy thought Gillie was a godsend, she was a great help with the twins who she loved as if they were her own sisters and they loved her equally.

Normally she got up first and got the twins ready for the day to allow Cathy to lie in for a while.   

But there were times when Gillian had to do early shifts up at Mornington Field and Cathy had to get the girls ready herself.

 

She got back home from work about midday and walked into the hall to be greeted by some unfamilar sounds and she walked slowly towards the source of the sounds, which were eminating from the kitchen, when she made the startling discovery.

 

Cathy was sitting on Dave’s lap with her arms wrapped serpent like around his neck and she was snorting loudly as passion was taking hold when they were discovered.

“What are you doing?” Gillian screamed “leave Mama alone”

Dave was taken by surprise and broke away from Cathy’s mouth.

“No don’t stop” Cathy begged “Please don’t stop”

“Mama?” Gillian quiried “you want him to?”

“I asked him to” she confessed

“Tell the truth” Dave instructed

“I… begged him” she admitted.

Within moments of her admittion Cathy was kissing him again as Gillie stared wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

When the kiss ended, Dave and Cathy looked at the young girl who went beetroot red and ran out of the room.

 

Cathy sat on his lap and looked at her reflection in the window and smiled weakly and thought she hadnt felt that alive for more than two years and at the same moment Gillian had run to the front door.

She was cross because she had embarrassed herself, not that she was shocked to see her step mum kissing a man, nor was she angry at the situation she loved Cathy and it was about time she started to live again, the overwhelming emotion she felt when she watched them was jealousy.

Not that she wanted to kiss Dave and she certainly didn’t want to kiss Cathy, she didn’t love her in that way, she was jelous of the intimacy and the tenderness, she wanted that but she wanted it with someone else.

Gillian opened the front door and was surprised to see Dave’s  apprentice, Owen Mumford, standing there. 

“Oh it’s you” she said and threw herself into his arms, the very arms she had pictured herself in a few minutes earlier.

 

After being discovered in the act Cathy concluded the kiss with Dave but after Gillian had left the room Cathy suddenly felt foolish and self concious

“I need to go and find Gillian” she said as Dave watched in silence unable to formulate a response.

 

Half an hour later he was just leaving the kitchen with his stuff when Cathy walked back in

“Is she ok?” he asked

“I couldn’t find her” she replied

“Oh”

“How are you feeling?” he asked

“Confused” she replied and turned away

 

Cathy sat on her bed and looked at herself in the mirror she really hadnt felt that alive for more than two years but although his intimate kiss was intensly electrifying the pleasure he had given her was a double edged sword.

She wanted him but she felt guilty at betraying her husbands memory despite how much she wanted him and how much she enjoyed the kiss.

 

She dismissed Dave after the kiss and went in search of her step daughter.

But while she was sitting alone on her bed lamenting what might have been, she made the decision to live her life.

So the next day she phoned Dave to say that one of the radiators was leaking and he said he would be round as soon as he could.

 

Cathy Maddocks was an attractive twenty nine year old widow who lived with her six year old twins, Lily and Iris, and an 18 year old step daughter Gillian.

Cathy’s husband John was much older than she was when they married but he was the love of her life and she was absolutely devastated when he died.

After the bottom fell out of her world she spent the following two years following his passing in lonely celibacy.

But when the shower went on the blink she phoned her brothers best friend Dave Plunkett, who had his own plumming business in Shallowfield and a huge crush on her.

She was aware of that fact and avoided him on his first two visits but on completeing the repair of her boiler she surprised them both when she begged him to kiss her.

It was a wonderful kiss which didt diminish even after they were discovered by Gillian.

However she dismissed Dave after the kiss and went in search of her step daughter.

But while she was sitting alone on her bed lamenting what might have been, she made the decision to live her life.

So the next day she phoned Dave to say that one of the radiators was leaking and he said he would be round as soon as he could.

 

The leaky radiator was a fabrication, it was merely a device to get him through the door.

While she waited she got herself dressed in preparation because getting him through the door was only part of the plan and so what she was dressed in was designed to keep him there.

But as she sat and waited for him doubts crept in with every tick off the clock and her resolve began to ebb away.

So she opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a large glass.

 

By the time Dave knocked on the front door she was just poring her third.

“Come and have a drink” she slurred when she’d opened the door

“Ok” he said doubtfully and followed her but he declined the drink and waited for her to tell him why he was there.

In the end it was Dave who broke the silence.

“When I asked you how you were feeling the other day, you replied, “Confused””

“I did” she agreed

“What about?”

“I was just confused about my feelings” she replied which he suspected but he didn’t see the next bit coming

“And I wasn’t sure about yours”

“Really?” he asked “well you needn’t be, I’ve wanted you forever”

“Ok but I’m scared” Cathy admitted

“I can fix that” Dave said

“I’m scared” she admitted

“Why?” he asked “You want me and I want you”

“It’s my first time” she confessed “Since John”

“It’s our first time” Dave said “but there would be a condition”

Cathy didn’t reply but she put her wine glass down and looked up

“What condition?”

“That you let go of the past” he replied “and no holding back”

“Shut up and kiss me” she said

So he obliged and it was everything she had hoped it would be and as he stood holding her he asked

“So it’s really happening then?” he asked

“Yes but…”

“But what?” Dave asked

“I’m worried about Gillie” she said

“Is that all” he said and laughed

“I’m serious” she snapped “I’ve upset her badly”

“Come with me” he said and took hold of her hand and led her into the lounge and over to the big window where he pulled the net curtain aside to reveal the sight of little shy Gillian sitting in the front of the plumbers van snogging Owens face off

“Oh” Cathy exclaimed “She’s ok then”

“It looks like it” he agreed

“In that case” she said a moment before she pushed him backwards onto the sofa and leapt on top of him.