In my dreams
I see you clearly
I reach out to touch
you
And you hold me in
your arms
I feel your tender caress
As you envelope me
As your love embosoms
me
And my pain melts away
When I awake
I am alone and breathless
But content and at
peace
In my dreams
I see you clearly
I reach out to touch
you
And you hold me in
your arms
I feel your tender caress
As you envelope me
As your love embosoms
me
And my pain melts away
When I awake
I am alone and breathless
But content and at
peace
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 takes place in Brassington, a
large sprawling village nestled in the wooded hills on the southern edge of the
Dancingdean Forest in the south east corner of Downshire.
It was Gemma Morris’s
29th birthday and she was being picked up by her sister Charlotte as they were
going into the village for lunch at The Timberman.
As she walked along
the path from White Rose Cottage down to her sister’s waiting car, a couple
were just leaving the house next door, a busty redhead of about her own age and
a taller gaunt looking man with starey eyes, she hadn’t met them before, but
she understood they were brother and sister, the Moors, so she smiled and said
“Good morning”
Well, she couldn’t
believe that two such innocuous words could have the effect of lighting the
blue touch paper, but that was exactly what happened because the man virtually exploded
and launch an array of expletives the like of which she’d never heard before in
her life.
And the apparent
provocation for the verbal assault was the fact that Charlotte had stopped her
car with the front wheel over hanging the Moor’s drive.
The busty redhead tried
her best to calm him down, but Gemma sensibly didn’t react and ignored him, and
opened the car door.
“Hi Charlotte” she
said
“I think I’ve just met
the new neighbours”
“Yes” she said still
smiling “he’s a colourful character”
“Well, his language
certainly is” Gemma said and then added “She’s nice though”
When she returned home
after having had a very pleasant lunch with Charlotte, she was dropped off
about 90 minutes after the incident and there was no further confrontation with
the neighbours on that occasion as she walked along the path, though she did
notice the curtain twitch, so Gemma turned and smiled.
She was relieved that
there was no repeat of the unprovoked verbal abuse by the neighbour, so she
went in the house and closed the door.
Gemma was indoors for
about forty minutes and as she left the house, she saw the angry neighbour’s
redheaded sister walking towards her.
Despite her smiley
response to the initial assault she was actually quite hurt about being called
vile names, but it was being called a fat arsed dumb bimbo which hurt the most,
and being called a “woman” driver when she wasn’t even driving, she’d never
thought of herself as a dumb bimbo, or fat arsed, in fact she was a smart
cookie and her arse was widely regarded as pert, and she was an advanced
driver.
She was a bit angrier
now the insults had sunk in, and she was up for a fight, so she braced herself.
“I’m sorry about earlier”
Joanne Moor said completely disarming her.
“My brother Clinton is
bi-polar, and it makes him a bit unpredictable”
“Where is he now?” she
asked
“He’s gone home” she
replied
“Come in for a coffee,
by way of an apology, I’ve just unpacked the best China”
Although she was short
of time, she was going to politely decline her offer but then decided to accept
because she had something on her mind, so instead she replied.
“That would be nice,
thank you”
It was getting dark by
the time she returned home, and she was feeling very satisfied indeed at the
way good neighbourly relations had been established, however it wasn’t the best
China she had been drinking from all afternoon.
I want you to hold in my arms
I want to look into your
eyes
I want to feel your heart beat
I want to hear your sighs
I want to hear your voice
I want to feel your touch
I want to kiss your lips
Because I love you so
much
In the small but thriving
English county of Downshire people go about the tasks of their everyday existence
in ways that range from the mundane to the extraordinary as their forebears had
done for centuries before, in the varied and diverse landscape, from 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, to the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and the short but beautiful coastline
to the east, but it’s in the old market town of Abbeyvale where the participants
of this tale live their lives, and Morella Garcia was enjoying the early June
sunshine.
It was her day off and
she was taking advantage of it, she had been for a walk, and as she was a tall
and slender brunette with an ample bosom, she wore a dress that showed off her assets,
and her beauty combined with a complexion that betrayed her Spanish heritage
meant she did not go unnoticed.
So, when the
Twenty-five-year-old braless beauty was only a few doors from her house she saw
her neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Brown and their pretty red headed daughter Dakota,
leaving their house and as was her habit she smiled and said
“Good morning”
Genuinely expecting
the customary response of echoing the greeting but instead got something quite
different.
“I’ll give you good morning
your Italian slut” she bawled
“You keep your eyes
off my husband”
Morella was not, due
to her Latin temperament, averse to the idea or indeed the execution of
dragging the mouthy bitch over the fence and giving her a slap, but instead
chose something that would enrage her even more.
“Actually, I’m Spanish
and I have no interest in your husband” she said “I would happily entertain
your daughter though”
With that Mrs. Brown
launched into a tirade of abuse which was made worse by the fact Morella smiled
at the woman as she was raging.
Poor Mr. Brown had to
physically restrain her and manhandle her towards the front door.
Sitting on her patio later
that day she reviewed the events of the morning, trying to discern what, if
any, offence she could have caused, but could think of none, because the last
thing she was expecting when she said “good morning” to the Browns was to be
verbally abused and warned to stay away from Mr. Brown.
In truth Morella
hadn’t really looked at him prior to the abuse and when she did look him over
after the event, she didn’t think he was anything special, and she wasn’t
generally fussy when it came to sexual partners.
She was just musing
over whether she should go out that evening to find someone that did tick her
boxes when the doorbell rang.
As she prepared to
open the door, she was hoping it wasn’t “Mouthy Brown” looking for round two
but when it opened, she delighted and surprised to find instead her 17-year-old
daughter Dakota, and she took a moment to drink in the vision of every inch of
her five-foot tall, pale skinned, slender frame, from her flame-coloured hair
down to her dainty size 3 feet.
“Hi Morella” she said
quietly
“Hello Dakota” she replied,
“Did your mum send you?”
“Oh no” she replied,
and her cheeks flushed scarlet
“I’ve come to be entertained”
It took a moment for
her reply to sink in but when the penny dropped, she took hold of her hand and
said
“Well, you’ve come to
the right place lovely”
So, she didn’t need to
go out to find a box ticker after all, because in the end she had a doorstep
delivery, and it was well after dark when Dakota returned home.
As the sun set over the sea
Filling the sky with
an orange hue
I held your hand
And beheld that
wondrous view
Then I squeezed your
hand
And said “I love you”
I held my breath
Until you said “I love
you too”
Mornington-By-Mere is
a small country village lying in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the
Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a quaint
picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor
House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse,
a River and a Mere.
But Mornington-By-Mere
was not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it was the beating heart of
the Finchbottom Vale and there were a number of cottages and small houses on
the Purplemere road and Dulcets Lane which formed the part of Mornington
Village known as Manorside and among them were Brooke Side Cottages where the
Incles and the Kundu families lived.
Annemarie Incles loved
music, it was her life, she played the Cello and she was a student at the Purplemere
Park Music Academy, and she had aspirations to play for the Downshire Symphony
Orchestra, but although music was her first love, it wasn’t her only love.
Second place in her
heart went to Michael Kundu, the boy next door, the only problem was getting
him to make a move.
She knew that his
reluctance wasn’t because he didn’t feel the same way as her it was just that
he was desperately shy.
But Annemarie had lost
her heart to Paul and her failure to win his was not an option so she put her
plan into operation.
The Purplemere Park
Music Academy was funded by the Downshire Symphony Orchestra and they used the well-appointed
facilities several times a year, especially the large rehearsal space as well
as smaller soundproof rooms which were used for individual practice.
Michael also loved
music and was also a student at the PPMA, his instrument however was the Clarinet,
and although he was competent he wasn’t in Annemarie’s league, so he needed to
take every chance he could to practise and was always the first one there and
was the last one to leave and before he turned in he always did a walk around
before he turned the lights off and locked up.
Michelle knew that and
so it would be late at night and in one of the soundproof rooms where she would
set her trap.
So it was late on Friday
evening when he had finished practising and was doing his walk round that he heard
the strains of Bach’s Cello Suite No.1 emanating from one of the small rooms
through a partially open door.
It was Michael’s
favourite piece so Annemarie knew it would get his attention.
He peered in through
the half open door and his heart skipped a beat as he saw Erika sitting in the
middle of the room facing him with the great polished instrument between her
long black stocking clad legs, her wavy red hair dancing across her naked
shoulders and brushing her alabaster skin and along with her stockings, and an
emerald green dress she was wearing a smile.
His heart was pounding
in his chest as she was playing his favourite piece, and looking stunning.
He had always loved her
but she was out of his league in every sense so for years he had consoled himself
by being her friend so he could stay close and as a friend he could admire her
in secret, at least he thought it was a secret.
Without speaking he
walked into the room and closed the door behind him and his eyes never left her
while she played and he circled the beautiful pale skinned cellist perched on a
stool and he drank in the beautiful smiling girl along with the Bach.
“Do you like the Bach?”
she asked
“I love the Bach” he
replied
“I know” she said “Do
you like anything else?”
“Oh yes”
“Do you like what I’m
wearing?” she asked seductively
“Oh yes, very much, I
think you look lovely” he replied “Are you going somewhere?”
“Maybe” she replied
enigmatically
“But you got dressed
up just in case” he asked
“I got dressed up for
you” she said and stopped playing
“For me?” he asked
with surprise “Why?”
“To get your attention”
she said and put her cello on its stand and stood up “I do have your attention
don’t I?”
“Oh yes” he replied “but
I don’t understand”
“Maybe this will help”
she said and leant forward and kissed him and then added
“Did that help?”
“I’m still a little
confused” he replied and then he kissed her
I watch the sunset and think of you
And picture you
beneath that sun
Burning high in your
sky
And I feel your presence
Though you are half a
world away
And we are separated
By oceans and
continents
Our hearts are connected
And soon we will be
hand in hand
To share our sunsets