Sunday, 8 May 2022

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (57) Cleaning out the Attic

 

The Finchbottom Vale is 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.

And at the far eastern end of the Vale was the traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea, complete with a Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.

 

The four friends had spent the morning playing a foursome at the Sharpington Dunes Golf Club, they all lived locally in the town of Sharpington-By-Sea and three of them had houses that backed onto the course.

Their foursome had become a regular fixture on their social calendars after widower Dave Whitaker had taken early retirement at the age of 50.

It seemed the right thing to do at the time, his children had flown the nest, his wife had passed and his job had lost its lustre, so he retired and he had never regretted it for a moment.

Retirement enabled him to spend time with his three favourite ladies of leisure, Sarah Price, Katie George and Wilhelmina Winten.

Sarah and Katie were both wealthy grass widows and ten years younger than he was and spinster Willi was three years older and was a retired PE Teacher.

After spending a very pleasant morning on the course they lunched at the club as was their habit and as they sat down at their regular table Willi announced

“I can’t be late home today, Marta is coming to help me tidy the attic”

“It must be important if you’re going to cut your lunch short” Sarah said and they all laughed.

“If truth be told I do rather look forward to the days Marta comes to help me” she said when the laughter had subsided

“She’s really such a nice girl and very good company”

Which was when, the waitress, Georgina, arrived at the table to take their order.

“So you’re not coming to mine for drinks this afternoon Willi?” Katie asked

“I’m afraid not” she replied

“What about you Sarah?”

“No not today” she replied reading a text on her phone “somethings come up”

“Just me and you then Dave” Katie said

“Ok with me” Dave remarked

So after a very nice lunch in very pleasant company, and feeling a little over indulged, they had a rendezvous by their trolleys and prepared for the short stroll across the 18th fairway, apart that is from Sarah Price, who was the only one of the group whose house didn’t adjoin the Golf Course.

“I’ll say goodbye now” she said “I need to pop to the pro shop before I head home”

So Sarah headed in the opposite direction while the other three walked their trolleys across the 18th fairway.

Katie and Dave were next door neighbours but Willi lived 5 houses along from Katie’s, so she said goodbye to the others and walked home to get showered before Marta arrived.

 

Marta Gouveia was a rather plain looking Portuguese girl, of small but athletic stature, and was almost 30 years younger than Willi but they got on like a house on fire and had done from the first moment they met.

She had had a hard life and had known real poverty and hardship and had been raised by two cruel and abusive parents.

But through hard work, determination and a helping hand from people like Willi she had survived, and despite her early life she was a kind and loving soul.

The reason she wasn’t getting to Willi’s until late afternoon was because the second of her three part time jobs didn’t finish until three.

 

Wilhelmina was, by her own admission, a rather stick thin and ordinary looking woman with three redeeming features, in her opinion, kind and quite stunning eyes, good legs, she liked her legs, and straight shoulder length blonde hair.

She was three years on the wrong side of 50, and chose to dress in the twin set and tweed style, if style was the correct word, and sensible shoes.

 

She went in doors and put her clubs away in the cupboard and went straight upstairs and turned the shower on, then she undressed and briefly admired her slim figure in the mirror.

“Not bad for an old bird” she said and smiled at her reflection before getting in the shower

 

Marta let herself in with the spare key hidden in the planter and called out

“Willi!”

When she got no answer on the ground floor she made her way up the stairs and when she reached the landing she smiled because she knew where she was.

 

Willi was just washing the shampoo from her hair when the cubicle door opened and Marta stepped in and was standing beside her completely naked.

Willi’s eyes greedily consumed every inch of her lovely young body with magnificent firm breasts, flat stomach and well-toned limbs.

“Can I join you?” Marta asked already knowing the answer

“I thought you’d never ask” Willi replied and as they eagerly washed each other Marta said

“You know that this isn’t going to get the attic tidied”

“Oh well never mind” Willi replied “We can always do it tomorrow”

“I bet we don’t” said Marta as she kissed her lover

“We definitely will” she said authoritatively

“Yes but you said that yesterday” Marta reminded her and kissed her mouth again.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (56) Moonlight Serenade

 

Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram was involved with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, Carrington Chase educated woman called, Francesca Carrington-Webber.

Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.

 

They became involved after three chance meetings, two on a train and the third more significant one was on the Promenade in Sharpington, where he came upon her small huddled figure on the bench ahead of him in some distress and after some tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.

 

Since that night they had had a non-physical relationship and on the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend some time together they always made the most of it, sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened.

 

On the night of the Harvest Festival Fair there was always a dance on the village green in Forest Dean, in a great marquee, and everyone dressed up.

Paul and Francesca both attended but discreetly kept their distance, but exchanged glances all night.

He was wearing a suit and she had on a powder blue dress which made her look stunning and him feel proud, the moment he laid eyes on her in it.

At the end of the evening he positioned himself near the exit so he could see when Francesca left for home.

When she did she left in a small group and headed in the direction of the Vicarage and he followed at a safe distance as they went down the lane by the church, half of the group broke away at that point so he followed the remaining three as they took the path that crossed the golf course.

Once they had traversed the course the group split again two of them went left and Francesca went right and so did Paul after about 30 yards he had caught up with her.

“Hello gorgeous” he said

“What kept you?” she said and hugged him

Francesca shivered so he chivalrously gave her his jacked, which reached down to her knees and she kissed him gently, just once, then again more passionately.

“I’ve been waiting to do that all evening” she said with a giggle.

“I’m always happy to oblige” he said and kissed her eager lips.

 

Francesca roughly rolled up the sleeves of his jacket and then held his hand as they walked along the fairway.

“All evening eh” he said

“Yes and I was so desperate to kiss you that it hurt” she admitted

After a few yards they started along a track which was quite dark even in the moonlight.

“Have you got a torch” he asked

“I don’t need a torch I can see fine” she replied

“I’m like a cat” she added and she made a little clawing gesture with her hand, accompanied by a growl, then they emerged onto the fairway again but she was headed in entirely the wrong direction for her house

“Where are we going?” he asked

“We’re going for a walk in the moonlight”

Francesca said “very romantic”

“Yes but where are we going?” he repeated

“Wait and see” she answered

 

They finished up by the 17th tee which was elevated and commanded a great view of the moon lit valley below, which to Francesca’s mind was a very romantic spot and entirely suitable for what she had in mind.

 

It had been almost three and a half months since she first met Paul and two months to the date since they made love in his caravan after the Yacht Club Dinner Dance and the same period of time since she fell in love with him.

But despite the fact that she loved him to distraction, and that she thought about him every waking moment and he filled her dreams every night, she had been unable to say the words.

He told her all the time but all she could say in response was “me too”

 

She sat down on the bench and he sat next to her and put his arm around her and asked

“So why are we here?”

“Because I have something to say and I wanted to say it in a very romantic setting” she said

“What is it?” he asked and then as she was sitting in her lovers arms on a bench bathed in moonlight Francesca took a deep breath and screamed out under the Harvest moon at the top of her lungs.

“I LOVE YOU”

Then she turned and looked at him and he was staring at her with a broad grin on his face.

“I thought you were never going to say it” he said still staring at her until she suddenly became self-conscious under his gaze and buried her face in his neck.

“I love you so much” he said and his mouth sought out hers and they sealed their joint declaration with a kiss.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (55) Sweet Twenty Something

 

Every morning he saw her on the Finchbottom Express, in the same seat, she was a twenty something, a sweet young thing who smiled at him each day, occasionally a “Hello” or “Hi” was exchanged but nothing more profound that that.
The carriage clicked and clacked as it rushed us towards the throng of Abbottsford, the train wheels singing their staccato song and he looked at her and instantly pictured her beside him and holding his hand and she looked up from her book and gave him a quizzical look.
“Can you read my thoughts?” he asked inside his head and promptly decided to think about sports but that didn’t help in the slightest because he then saw with him at the football stadium.

She was a twenty something, a sweet young thing, who looked at the ordinary thirty something, quizzically.
“This is the affect you have on me” he thought “so you had better not read my mind?”
Oh how he would like to brush the hair from her brow, and run his finger through her soft brown curls, before he caressed the softness of her cheek, and kiss those sweet young lips and then carry her off into the sunset, to have her stand beside him at the altar, and at the ecstatic moment of their union he smiles and when he looks across at her he sees that a smile had replaced her quizzical look, briefly before her eyes return to the pages of her book and he knew he would have those same thoughts the next time they travelled together on the train but she would never be his.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

 

She had a distinct aura

That pervaded the senses

Femininity, without vanity

Beauty, without conceit

Forthright, but not brash

Confident but not cocky

Refreshingly sincere

Intelligent but not haughty

Wit without cruelty

Laughter without malice

Principled and scrupulous

Morality without piety

Could no one else see it?

Was I in a minority of one?

Surely I am not alone

In my admiration of her

As she looks at me

What does she see?

She looks at me appraisingly

What does she see?

How is she evaluating?

Is there an attraction?

Yes but more than that alone

Then simultaneously

In mutual acquiescence

We reached the conclusion

It was simple recognition

Of the similarly disposed

Of kindred spirits

We are soul mates

FILLE DE PAPILLON

 

Remember when we were young

Those long halcyon days

Down on your dad’s farm

Joyful hours spent

Idling our time away.

Swinging on that old rustic gate

Roaming the countryside

Happy lazy days,

Nothing particular to do

And a world of time to do it in

 

They were wonderful days

They were innocent days

Before the end of childhood

Before those weeks

That special summer

So long ago

When you seemed to transform

Into something new

Like a butterfly

Emerging from its cocoon

Spreading its wings in the sun

Displaying fresh beauty

 

Your transformation

From the cutely naive country girl

Awkward and ungainly

Into a beautiful young woman

An altogether more graceful being

Though I was fond of the grubby faced girl

With untidy hair, wispy and uncombed

I would very soon fall in love

With the butterfly that had replace her

 

With the emergence of the butterfly girl

With all the beauty

Of the first flower of spring

We trod an unfamiliar path

Leaving our childish games behind

Taking our first tentative steps

Towards love

 

A love that was a stranger to us

Yet we stepped eagerly in to its turbulent sea

And immersed ourselves in its waters

We soon knew at once

The excitement of first love

When joy was all we could see

And all of our thoughts

Were only for each other

Sweet moments spent

In blissful adoration

Until love was burnt deeply on our souls

 

Now as we walk the familiar places

As we have so often done

With scenes much visited

We can stand in that spot

Where first I beheld the butterfly

Resplendent in the sunlight

And say to you

With heartfelt sincerity

That I love you still

RING IN THE WINDOW

 

In the window he saw the ring

The perfect one, a beautiful thing

The most perfect symbol for her

At its centre a Ceylon sapphire

A gem to beguile and hypnotise

And match the beauty of her eyes

Then to complement its glow

Around it sits a diamond halo

Light playing on its heavenly guise

Like the sparkling of her eyes

All set in a stylist platinum band

Which he could picture on her hand

And pictured himself on one knee

So he could say “please marry me”

LOVE HAIKU # 1

 

Under skies of grey,

or beneath a sky of blue,

I would love you still