Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (76) Miss Kirby and the Stranger

 

Virginia Kirby was a ward sister at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was a rather plain middle-aged woman just the wrong side of 50.

Virginia was five foot six inches tall and very trim, and stood an inch or so taller in her stout shoes, and her sisters uniform fitted her perfectly, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.

Her once black hair was now streaked with grey and bore what Catherine Cookson fans would recognise as the “Mallen streak”.

She was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t all due to laughter lines, life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face as well, each line and furrow an event and for those who could read such signs it was like her résumé.

She was well-liked and respected at work but none of her colleagues knew her outside of work and assumed she was just a sad lonely spinster.

That was due in part to the fact that she was a private person and didn’t talk of her private life and also because those who had happened to see her outside of work reported back that she was a frump as she choose to dress in the twin set and tweed style because sartorially Virginia was a sensible shoes and utilitarian tights kind of woman.

Even people from the village of Dulcet St Mary, where she had lived for 20 years believed her to be a sad lonely old soul and many of them referred to her as “the prudish Miss Kirby” or “virginal Virginia” or “the dried up old spinster”.

 

But as more than one man had found out over the years to their surprise beneath the frumpy exterior lay a hidden warmth.

The other thing that tended to reinforce the stereotype was her heavy involvement with St Mary’s church but even the other congregants were unaware of her true nature.

Which was why when a new curate arrived at St Mary’s and was in need of lodgings Virginal Virginia was as always the obvious choice.

Being single and living in a four bedroom house she always had room for a lodger and being the epitome of respectability and a dried up old virgin to boot there was never a hint of impropriety.

 

So that was how it came about that the new curate, 34 year old Colin Ash, came to be knocking on Virginia’s front door one cold winters evening and he found the Hospitality in the Kirby household to be much warmer than he was expecting when he fell in love with Virginia’s niece Molly.

Which was why, when a blizzard closed the local roads and 50 year old Sharpington resident Tony Malley couldn’t get home, and was stranded in Dulcet St Mary with nowhere to stay for the night, Colin Ash knew the solution to his vagrancy.

Colin knew that his landlady had the cure for his predicament as he had been on the receiving end himself.

“Come with me” he said “Miss Kirby will fix you up”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked

“Very sure” he replied

 

Colin Ash and Tony Malley trudged their way together from the church to Virginia’s house through the falling snow.

“Here we are” Colin said as he unlocked the door

“I just need to change, if you wait in the lounge I’ll join you shortly”   

“Ok” he concurred and he opened the door to the lounge as Colin climbed the stairs smiling broadly as it gave him the opportunity for a quick 5 minutes with his fiancé.

 

When he entered the room he found a skinny middle aged woman with a pretty face, blue eyes, soft shoulder length brown hair, wearing a black cocktail dress, thick black tights and heels.

“Miss Kirby?” he said

“Yes” she replied with a smile

“Oh” he exclaimed

“Oh I see, I’m Not the “Virginal Virginia” you were expecting” she said

“No”

“Are you disappointed?” she asked

“Not at all” he replied

“Well I don’t normally look like this” she said and he raised an eyebrow

“I’ve been to a drinks party” she explained

“Well you look very nice” Tony said

“Thank you” she said and kicked off her shoes and sat on the sofa with her legs up.

“I’m Tony Malley by the way”

“Virginia” she responded and shook his hand “I take it you are looking for a room”

“Yes Colin said you might be able to help” He explained “You are apparently a local treasure”

“Well yes I do have a room” Virginia said “But I am unable to offer you an evening meal”

“That’s not a problem” he said “I could get us a chip supper”

“Oh that would be lovely” she said and smiled

 

Colin was just coming down the stairs as Tony left the lounge and he said

“Everything ok?”

“Yes, I’m just off to find the chip shop” Tony replied turning up his collar

“Excellent I’ll keep you company and show you the way” Colin said amiably

 

As he returned to the house with 3 fish suppers, he reflected on his good fortune at being a guest of Miss Kirby who he supposed, from what he had heard to be an old maid, who’d been left on the shelf, and was a dried up old spinster, but had turned out to be a different prospect all together.

 

He very much enjoyed his enforced stay at Miss Kirby’s while the heavy snow fall kept him in Dulcet St Mary for two days, but her amiable company kept him there for a further two days after the roads had reopened.

And in the months that followed he became a frequent visitor to Virginia Kirby’s house because they had fallen in love.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (75) Oh Claire

 

Claire Jarvis went to the University of Downshire where she studied English at Abbottsford and it was for her, like many girls of her age, a life defining time.

She was the only child of well to do parents, who divorced when she was seven and as a result she had been thoroughly spoilt and was given everything her heart desired, except the one thing she craved most in all the world, their love and as a result she withdrew into her own world.

Although Claire was the oldest of the four girls in her dorm she actually looked the youngest by some distance.

Despite the fact that she had the body of a mature woman she had a baby face but she was destined to bloom into a very beautiful woman.

 

She was in halls for the first year and she shared with three other girls Amy Coates, a tall big busted redhead, Alison Holmes, a skinny girl with a bad case of OCD and Carole Bean a tall, beautiful and kindly girl who like herself was a brunette.

All four of the girls were studying English in one form or another and apart from their studies they also had in common the fact they were all natives of the Finchbottom Vale.

Claire was from Purplemere, Carole from Childean, Alison from   Finchbottom and Amy from Shallowfield.

But being in the close company of the three girls brought her out of herself and the friendship that resulted from, on the face of it, 4 very different characters coming together, lasted for their lifetimes.

And as they got on so well the four of them decided very early on to rent a house between them for the second and third years.

However of all the girls Claire found herself drawn most to Carole Bean.

The fact that the two of them had more lectures and seminars together than the other two partly aided their closeness but it was mainly because they got each other, they shared a sense of humour as well as having similar tastes in music, a love of pizza and old romantic comedies and when it came time to go home to the Vale they normally travelled together, however when the Easter holidays came around during their first year Carole went home for a week but Claire decided to stay in Abbottsford.

But alone in their dorm Claire began to regret her decision to stay because she felt desperately lonely from the moment she woke up the day after the others left.

But she channelled all her loneliness into he studies and she had a very productive week completing a creative writing piece which was basically just committing the contents of her day dreams to paper.

By the end of the week though she had ran out of distractions so she decided to drown her sorrows and by the end of the night she was dancing naked around the lounge until she passed out.

 

When Claire woke up the next day she was laying on her back draped along the sofa, she tried to lift herself up but the pain in her head persuaded her otherwise and she closed her eyes and went back to sleep and dreamed romantic dreams.

 

Carole Bean decide to return to University sooner than intended as she had work to finish and there were too many distractions at home, It was a warm day when she let herself into the flat and it was very stuffy so the first thing she did was open the kitchen window and let some air in.

She was about to call out and announce herself when she noticed Claires door was open so she assumed she must have been out so she went straight into her own room and dumped her bags.

Carol then returned to the kitchen and made herself a drink which she took with her as she opened the door to the lounge.

She casually stepped inside and Carol couldn’t believe her eyes as they settled on where Claire was laying stretched out naked on the sofa, her jeans, shirt, knickers and socks strewn all around the room.

Carole began to retreat back the way she came and she knew that was what she should have done, just walked away and respected Claires privacy, she would have hated to have been observed like that if their roles were reversed, so her head was screaming at her to leave but something inside her over ruled her head and so she watched her young flatmate in all her naked glory.

It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen, she had seen naked women before, but only glimpses and never anyone she knew and loved.

She was so absorbed by the beautiful vision before her that she almost spilt her coffee and just at that moment it slopped onto her hand she gasped. 

 

Claire was startled by the sound of Carole’s gasp and opened her eyes to see who it was, but when she saw it was Carole she just smiled.

She should instantly have covered her modesty, and had it been anyone else she would have, but she didnt because it was Carole who she had been dreaming about, and who had filled her dreams all week, day and night.

“I’m sorry” Carole said and turned away but Claire pleaded

“Don’t go”

and she reached out her hand and added

“Please”

Carole again had an internal battle between her head and her lust and the latter won again as she found herself taking Claires hand.

Still holding her hand she knealt on the floor beside the sofa and her eyes consumed every inch of Claires body like a child in a sweet shop not knowing which bon bon to eat first.

Claire watched her intently and when their eyes finally met they both giggled and Carole kissed her naked friend and carressed her flesh.

 

Allthough neither of them could quite come to terms with the fact that they might be gay it didn’t prevent them from adding to their lesbian experiences throughout their University years.

But after they graduated University they both ended up marry men and had to content themselves with being friends instead of lovers, most of the time.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (74) The Roespring Verger

 

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 our story begins in the affluent village of Roespring.

 

As part of his recuperation Mark Adams took an extended walk around his neighbourhood in Roespring and after about forty minutes he began to tire so he headed towards home.

He had been in and out of hospital for the previous ten years following a bad car accident just after his 15th birthday.

As he got close to home he turned into Bridge Farm lane which led past the back of St Catherine’s Church and that was when he met Abigail Evans coming the other way and his heart fluttered because he was in love with her.

She was the verger at St Catherine’s where her Uncle, James Hall, was the vicar.

She had her curly red hair tied up and hidden beneath a broad floppy hat and was wearing a green summer dress and a pashmina around her shoulders.

Abigail didn’t see him because she was looking at her sandals as they were shuffling and scuffing down the lane, if she had seen him her heart would have raced, but she just ambled along and she almost walked into him.

“Oh hello Mark” she said when she finally looked up

 

He really liked Abigail, he had got to know her during his years of recuperation, and she had been very kind in providing assistance to his family, respite care, parochial support and pastoral care.

They were similar ages, and got on very well, but despite that in many ways they were chalk and cheese.

Abigail was a very confident young woman, in fact she was ultra-confident and self-assured.

While he was shy, socially awkward and riddled with self-doubt especially around the opposite sex.

For ten years his only contact with woman were nurses and doctors so he was completely inexperienced in their regard.

She was also pretty which made him even more conscious of his own inadequacies.

Although they had become good friends, Abigail was the driving force in their friendship, she was bold and bubbly and pushed him along which made him feel more confident, and she gave him the daring to do things he would never have done on his own.

And he would have been perfectly happy living life on her coat tails because without her he would founder.

The problem was he had absolutely no idea how to move thing along however or even if she would want him to.

“Hi Abigail” he responded

“So what have you been up to?” she enquired

“Just walking” he replied “What about you?”

“I’ve been to a BBQ at aunt Sian’s” she answered, “I left early because I caught the sun a bit”

She lifted the pashmina off her shoulder so he could see.

“Oooh” he said “is it sore?”

“A little”

“Have you put something on it?” he asked and Abigail shook her head

“That’s going to burn if you don’t,” he told her

“Well come to the vicarage then and you can do it for me”

“Ok” he replied cheerfully “You have the wrong complexion for sitting in the sun”

“I know”

“You need to be careful with your lovely pale skin” he added and blushed when he realized he had said it out loud.

They went inside the house and she removed her floppy hat and said

“Make yourself at home I’ll just get the after sun”

 

It was about ten minutes later when she returned and the pashmina had gone and she had untied her hair glorious red mane.

“Where would you like me?” she asked

“In my arms” he replied in his head, but out loud he said

“On a dining chair I think”

Mark stood behind it as Abigail sat on the chair and let the straps fall off her shoulders so he had access to all the affected area.

The sunburn was nowhere near as bad as it first looked but he didn’t tell her that because he wanted to touch her, he longed to touch her, he just hoped he could prevent his hands from shaking while he did it.

“This might hurt a little, but let me know if you want me to stop” he said

“Ok” she answered meekly.

Mark squirted some cream on her back and began to gently rub in the lotion.

“How does that feel?” he asked

“Oooh lovely” Abigail replied as she thought the lotion was cool on her skin but as he rubbed it in it made her feel hot and her imagination went into overdrive so after a few minutes she turned and looked up at him with pleading eyes, but although he made eye contact with her he was clueless what to do next.

Abigail realized in that instance that he was not going to act so she grabbed his wrists and pulled him down towards her so that his mouth was in range and she kissed his mouth.

“At last” she thought and after a few moments she suddenly leapt up out of the chair so she could get a proper hold on him.

 

The kiss became frenzied and haphazard as their hands explored and caressed until Abigail took hold of his hand and said through hot panting lips

“Come to bed”

“What? No” he retorted

“Make love to me Mark” she implored

“But what about the vicar?” he asked still holding her hand

“Make love to me” She repeated as she pulled him towards the door “He won’t be back until late”

“But…” he began

“Shush I want you to take me to bed and make love to me”

“Ok,” he said meekly

“Come on then,” she said forcefully and Abigail led him by the hand all the way upstairs and into her bedroom.

She walked to the other side of the room and drew the curtains and then standing with her back to him she quickly divested herself of her dress and scrambled under the covers.

From where she then removed her pants and dropped them on the floor and then her eyes peered at him over the top of the duvet as he did the same and then as he slipped under the duvet she cuddled up close to him.

“I’ve never done this before” she said

“What in the vicarage you mean?”

“No, I’ve never done “this” before” she said quietly “I’ve never done “it””

Abigail suddenly looked quite childlike and unsure, the complete opposite of her normal demeanour, he assumed because she was so ultra-confident and self-assured that she was experienced, in all the ways that he was not.

“Nor have I” he said and laughed

“Really?” Abigail said “I’m so glad”

“You don’t mind?” Mark asked

“No, it makes this extra special” she replied “and you won’t notice how rubbish I am”

“Nor me” he remarked

“I think it will be perfect” she whispered

“You’re perfect” he responded and kissed her lips softly.

 

As they lay entwined together beneath the covers on a hot June afternoon they were feeling very pleased with themselves as they basked in the afterglow of the their first time.

Although they didn’t know it at the time what they had just experience wouldn’t even make it to the best one hundred times in the not to distant future but on that afternoon they were very happy.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (73) Miss Kirby and the Curate

 

Virginia Kirby was a ward sister at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was a rather plain middle-aged woman just the wrong side of 50.

Virginia was five foot six inches tall and very trim, and stood an inch or so taller in her stout shoes, and her sisters uniform fitted her perfectly, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.

Her once black hair was now streaked with grey and bore what Catherine Cookson fans would recognise as the “Mallen streak”.

She was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t all due to laughter lines, life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face as well, each line and furrow an event and for those who could read such signs it was like her résumé.

She was well-liked and respected at work but none of her colleagues knew her outside of work and assumed she was just a sad lonely spinster.

That was due in part to the fact that she was a private person and didn’t talk of her private life and also because those who had happened to see her outside of work reported back that she was a frump as she choose to dress in the twin set and tweed style because sartorially Virginia was a sensible shoes and utilitarian tights kind of woman.

Even people from the village of Dulcet St Mary, where she had lived for 20 years believed her to be a sad lonely old soul and many of them referred to her as “the prudish Miss Kirby” or “virginal Virginia” or “the dried up old spinster”.

 

But as more than one man had found out over the years to their surprise beneath the frumpy exterior lay a hidden warmth.

The other thing that tended to reinforce the stereotype was her heavy involvement with St Mary’s church but even the other congregants were unaware of her true nature.

Which was why when a new curate arrived at St Mary’s and was in need of lodgings Virginal Virginia was as always the obvious choice.

Being single and living in a four bedroom house she always had room for a lodger and being the epitome of respectability and a dried up old virgin to boot there was never a hint of impropriety.

 

So that was how it came about that the new curate, 34 year old Colin Ash, came to be knocking on Virginia’s front door one cold winters evening.

“Mrs Kirby?” he asked as she opened the door and she gave the curate an appraising glance, he was tall and lean with curly mousy hair and blue eyes and a nervous smile.

“Miss” she replied, and there was a moment’s hesitation as he digested the information that she was unmarried but Virginia Kirby was quite small and slim, much smaller than Colin, dowdy and frumpy looking, on looking her up and down he felt all was in order.

“I’m Colin Ash” he said “the new curate, I’ve come to look at the room”

“Yes do come in Colin” she said amiably “I’m all ready for you”

“Thank you” he said and stepped into the hall

“Go up” she urged “Turn left at the top of the stairs and it’s the second door on the right, I’ll follow you up”

“Excellent” he said and Colin started up the stairs and Virginia followed him.

He followed her instructions and turned left but he opened the first door on the right by mistake and just as he was about to step inside Virginia shouted

“No not that one”

But the call came too late because he stepped inside the moment he pushed the door open but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away because standing in the middle of the room was an attractive young woman of a similar build to Miss Kirby, wearing a bra, pants and tights, and he had taken her by surprise before she’d finished dressing.

“Oh God” she said frantically looking around for something to cover her embarrassment and becoming more and more flustered every second

“I’m so sorry” he said, apologizing for his stupidity as well as for embarrassing her

“Here use this” he added and handed her his coat

“Oh God” she said again snatching the coat from his hand and covering herself.

“I really am sorry” he said feebly as she pushed him out the door

“Oh dear” he said and turned to look at Virginia

“You’ve met my niece then” Virginia said

 

Molly Kirby was 30 years old, quite small and slim like her aunt and pretty and was staying with her aunt for a few days while she was getting over a messy break up.

And apart from the fact she had been caught in a state of near undress by a complete stranger and a man of the cloth to boot, she was rather taken by the look of her peeper and he was very apologetic and behaved very gentlemanly when he offered her his coat.

“And he had a Nice bum” she thought to herself

 

After the informal meeting in her bedroom there was a quite natural awkwardness between them, the problem was that they lived in the same house, on the same floor, next door to each other.

It was a large Victorian house but it was very difficult for him to get to his room without passing her room and thus bumping into Molly was unavoidable.

Not that he didn’t like seeing her, he did, very much, and as to bumping into her, he thought of little else, in fact as a Curate he had very ungodly thoughts about her, and the image of her in her underwear was burned into his brain.

 

But the status quo would have been maintained indefinitely had it not been for two unrelated events that occurred on the same day.

The first event was Colin having to administer the last rites to his own grandmother which left him at a very low ebb and the second was when Molly discovered that her ex-boyfriend was engaged to her best friend, or at least her former best friend.

On receiving the news Molly repaired to the Cross Keys to drown her sorrows where she tried her best to get very drunk very quickly but the pub closed before she succeeded so she went home.

Once she reached the front door she tried in vain for some time to unite her door key with the lock but after a few minutes as she struggled to achieve her aim the door opened and Colin was standing there as he was heading in the opposite direction.

There was a moment’s delay when they just stared at each other before Molly, who was much smaller than Colin, surprised him when she leapt up and kissed him full on the lips and before he knew what he was doing he was kissing her back.

He wasn’t sure if a curate should have been indulging in such behaviour but he thought she was a very good kisser, so apart from pausing long enough to pull her across the threshold and close the door, he carried on.

And the kissing marked new beginnings for them both in the village of Dulcet St Mary where in time he would become the Vicar and she would become his wife.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (72) Francesca’s Garden of Delights

 

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, soon to be divorced 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 and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her husband David but that she was staying the night.

 

On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create opportunities and on occasion it took planning.

But there were even rarer occasions on which there was a combination of the two.

 

Such as the time they met at the Clayton Manor Hotel on the night of her sisters 4th wedding.

Which began with him gate crashing the wedding reception and ended with him knocking on the door of Francesca’s door and when he was sure the coast was clear.

“Room service” he called and the door opened

“Yes please” she replied and pulled him into the room by his belt and the second the door closed behind him she pinned him to the door and kissed him.

 

They were still in her bed at 11 am the next morning and would have stayed there all day had she not had to get back for the children.

“That was a masterly piece of planning madam” he said and kissed her as they cuddled under the duvet.

“Do you like all the sneaking around?” She asked

“I like the prize I get for all the sneaking around” he replied

“Do you find it exciting?” Francesca asked

“I suppose so” he said “What about you?”

“I do find it exciting but it’s the anticipation of you that’s the most exciting” she replied

“Why do you ask?” he said

“I need to know if you’d still want me if we didn’t need to sneak” she said and then there was slience

“Are you suggesting we tell everyone?” He asked

“Yes” she said quietly averting her eyes

“I want that more than anything” he replied “I want everyone to know, I want to shout it from the roof tops”

“Really?” she asked with surprise “truly?”

“Don’t you?” he asked and she started to cry

“Whats wrong?” he asked

“I want that too” She sobbed

 

Two weeks later, exactly one year to the day after they first met, the long secret affair was no longer a secret as Paul and Francesca told their friends and family.

An announcment which didn’t go down at all well as the news was not well received by anyone.   

Her friends, though secretly jelous of her having a toy boy, told her she was behaving foolishly, her family universal condemend her as ridiculous and her ex husband said she was an embarrassment.

Only her sister Adrienne was at all understanding, but she was on her fourth husband and so her judgement regarding relationships was considered iffy at best.

Paul faired little better, his mates all congratulated him for scoring with a milf but told him in no uncertain terms what a dick head he was for dating someone 12 years older than him and someone with children to boot.

His Dad thought he was a bit of a lad and his Mum thought he was digusting.

As a result of the reaction they got, their social circle was severely reduced so they had to be content with each others company, which was no hardship.   

But on the plus side Francesca’s children were delighted with the situation and took to Paul imediately and so they became an instant family.          

 

As the months went by and it became self evident that their relationship was not just a passing fad they were gradually accepted, albeit grudgingly, but it was almost a year before they were able to have a weekend to themselves thanks to Francesca’s mum taking the kids for the weekend.

But as luck would have it he had to go into work on Saturday morning, much to their annoyance, but he was expected to be home by two oclock at the latest.

 

It was a glorious day and very hot, especially for midday but not as hot as he thought the love of his life Francesca was.

He was more than an hour earlier getting to the house than he expected, so he let himself in using his front door key, which not for the first time made him smile.

He was glad he was home early he was looking forward all morning to making love to her and along with his feeling of love he felt immensely proud to be her boyfriend, and wanted to be even more.

 

He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.

Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.

He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.

 

He stepped inside and said hello but got no reply so he figured she must be outside in the garden so he walked towards the open French doors.

Paul stood on the threshold and looked out at the beautiful garden but it was not the manicured lawn and well stocked beds that drew his eye.

He could see Francesca on the patio lying face down on a sun lounger wearing a blue bikini.
She had her back tilted towards him and he was about to announce his presence but as his eyes surveyed the glorious body of the woman he loved, the curve of her hip, her waist and the sensual curve of her buttocks, he also noticed that her shoulders were shaking which he deduced indicated she was crying.

“Whats the matter?” He asked and Francesca jumped and then looked over her shoulder.

“Oh Paul” she exclaimed and got up and hugged him

“Whats wrong sexy?”  he asked

“I’m not though” she said hiding her face

“You’re not what?” Paul asked

“I’m not sexy” Francesca said softly

“Well I think you are” he asured her

“Really?” she asked unconvinced still hiding her face

“Really” he replied

“You don’t think I’m dirty?” she asked

“No” he said firmly

“You don’t think that I’m a slutty milf?” Francesca asked

“No, never, why would you even ask that?” he asked and Francesca didn’t reply

“Has someone said something?” he added and she nodded

“Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter who it was” she replied quietly

“Well screw them whoever it was” he said “because I’m in love with a beautiful woman who just happens to be 12 years older than me and she is the sexiest woman I have ever known, so they will just have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere”

Francesca slowly lifted her head and looked up over her shoulder at him and smiled.

“Hi beautiful” Paul said and gave her a long gentle kiss

“Do you really think I’m sexy?” she asked

“Very sexy” he said and kissed her passionately and when he had finished he asked

“Do you feel sexy yet?”

“Hmmm” she murmured

“I was hoping you would” he said

“What else are you hoping for?” she asked coyly 

“Well firstly I would like to make love to you” he said and kissed her again

“I might be agreeable to that” she said

“And then I would like to become your second husband” he said and kissed her mouth.

“What?” she asked

“I would like you to become Mrs Francesca Ingram” 

“You want to marry me?” she asked aghast

“Yes, very much” he said “So what’s the answer?”

“Well” she said and as she walked towards the French doors she discarded her bikini, and as she stood on the threshold with her beautiful body on display

“I think we should go upstairs and discuss our engagement” she said and ran inside giggling.

“I take it that’s a yes then” he called as he ran inside after her.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (71) Sisterly Love Reprised

 

The affair between Lionel Matthews and his sister in law Claire Tanning began after a party at the Kettlewell Village Hall when she got her sister Paula blind drunk on gin by ten o’clock.

She then offered to help Lionel walk the casualty home where she then seduced him after parading herself in her black underwear.

That was the first of several times that they made love over a two week period and then Claire was racked with guilt and the passion appeared to cool for her.

 

The Matthews and the Tannings had lived all their married lives in Kettlewell and they were ordinary down to earth people and after twenty years of marriage both couples had reached their middle years without being blessed with children and so their leisure time was more often than not spent together in a variety of ways, restaurants, theatre, cinema, sports and even holidays.

Even after the seduction she and her sister remained close, and as they always had done, the Matthews’s and the Tanning’s spent a lot of their leisure time together.

Lionel played golf every week with Claire’s husband Paul and the sisters did a lot together, shopping, book club, and spa dates to name but a few.

And in addition to that the two couple’s spent two weeks every July in the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park close to Sharpington.   

Claire wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea that year because of the sexual tension between her and Lionel but she knew that it was impossible to change their plans without it causing suspicions.

Lionel was of a different opinion, he wanted to make love to her again and by the time they set off to Sharpington 4 months had elapsed since they had shared a bed. 

 

The weather was glorious that summer and every time he looked at Claire, in shorts or a swimsuit or a summer dress he just wanted her more and more.

Paul seemed immune to his wife’s beauty and divided all of his time between golf and sailing.

“What a waste” Lionel thought

 

But despite his longing for Claire he was not neglecting Paula, they had always had a very healthy sex life, but as exciting as the illicit sex with Claire was there was more to it than that, there was a tenderness that he didn’t have with his wife and she didn’t share with Paul.

And as the week went on he realised it was her that he was missing and not the sex, he had fallen in love with his sister in law.

 

The next day Lionel’s wife Paula and Claire’s husband Paul left Whitecliff early to go on a diving trip to the Pepperstock Pits, Lionel wasn’t going as he was claustrophobic and nor was Claire as she couldn’t swim, but she was still giving him the cold shoulder so he wasn’t hopeful of spending any time together.

So he just sat outside his caravan drinking coffee and reading the papers and he supposed Claire was doing something similar at hers.

 

After about an hour he switched his beverage allegiance from coffee to beer and had just sat back down when Claire appeared from behind the adjacent caravan, she didn’t say anything she just stood about twenty feet away and looked at him, then after a moment or two she smiled and went back the way she had come.

Lionel took her behaviour and the smile as an invitation to follow.

As he rounded the corner Claire had paused on the top step to her Caravan, she was still smiling and as he stepped towards her she went inside.

When he reached the top step and went through the open door and closed the door behind him she was stood by the table looking down at the floor. 

“I haven’t changed my mind, about the sex I mean” she said

He put his drink down on the side and put his hand on her chin and turned her face towards him.

“It’s not the sex that I miss” he replied and she immediately responded by hugging him and kissing his neck.

         

Lionel and Claire spent the rest of the day walking hand in hand along Sharpington sands and discussing the future.

There deliberations would have been made all the easier hand they known that their spouses hadn’t been diving that day but had spent the day picnicking at Pepperstock Castle and were themselves walking hand in hand around the ruins.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (70) The Wedding Planner

 

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, soon to be divorced 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 and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her husband David but that she was staying the night.

 

On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create opportunities and on occasion it took planning.

But there were even rarer occasions on which there was a combination of the two.

 

It was early on a bright May Saturday morning when he was just leaving the clubhouse at the Forest Ridge Golf Club.

“Paul darling” a voice said in familiar tones and he turned round to see the lovely Francesca dressed up to the nines.

She looked stunning in a lemon coloured suit and matching accessories, as usual she was stylishly coordinated from hat to shoes and everything in between.

“Hello Francesca, where are you off to?” he asked even though he knew the answer

“My sister Adrienne’s wedding” she said raising her eyebrows “Number four”

“Well you look gorgeous as usual,” he said as he gave her an appraising gaze. “Immaculately accessorised”

“Well thank you kind sir” she said

“Everything matching?” he asked raising an eyebrow

“Everything darling” she whispered “as usual”

“So what are you doing here?” he asked

“Well I do have a rather convoluted tale of the why’s and wherefores, but to tell the truth I just came to show off the outfit”

She confessed and then she smiled in the very cute way she had where her nose wrinkled.

“And the place is deserted” she said and shrugged “what about you?”

“I was looking for someone to play with,” he said

“And we all know what kind of game you like to play” she said cheekily

“Well you should know better than most” he whispered and Francesca blushed.

“Do you want to play?” she asked

“Always” he replied

“I meant Golf,” Francesca stated

“So did I” he lied

“No you didn’t” she retorted “Thank God”

“Where is the wedding by the way?” he asked

“Clayton Manor” she replied

“I don’t suppose you know the room number?” he whispered

“No I don’t” she replied indignantly but her eyes intimated she would let him know.

After he’d watched Francesca walk away towards the car park it started to rain so he decided to abandon the search for a partner and go home and get ready to gate crash a wedding.

 

He got to the Hotel just after 10 o’clock, when the party was in full swing and slipped unnoticed up to the bar and mingled with the revellers as he looked for his quarry.

He knew the Clayton Manor and he also knew that the only access to the toilets from the function room was via the bar, so from his position he had a clear view of the ladies as they tottered off to the loos.  

Paul didn’t have to wait too long before the lovely Francesca emerged from the ballroom looking every bit as gorgeous as she had that morning at the golf club, just a slight unsteadiness and a flushing of her cheeks betrayed the fact she had been drinking.

He let her carry on tottering to the ladies unmolested but intercepted her on the return journey.

“Francesca Carrington-Webber!!” Paul said and made her jump

“Oh hello” she said trying to hide her pleasure at seeing him and failing miserably

“What a surprise seeing you here”

“Yes it’s a small world” he responded “Are you enjoying yourself at the party?”

“Yes it’s been a wonderful party darling” she said “But I’m very tired now and I was thinking of turning in soon”

“Why don’t you join me for a drink first” he suggested

“Yes that would be lovely” she replied “just a quick one”

“Really? I think we can do better than that” he said quietly and she blushed scarlet.

 

For the next 10 minutes they sat at a table in the crowded bar and made banal small talk but as Francesca got towards the bottom of her glass she asked

“Is your room nice?”

“I don’t have one” he replied “I’m not sure if I’m staying”

“I see”

“What about you?” he asked

“Yes I have a lovely room” she replied and wetting her finger she wrote a number on the table.

“Well I will say goodnight then” she said and stood up “it was really nice seeing you again”

“Likewise” he responded “Goodnight”

He watched her as she walked away in her accessorised lemon suit and thought how much he loved her.

 

He remained in the bar for ten minutes and then paid a visit to the gents before taking the back stairs up to Francesca’s floor and when he was sure the coast was clear he knocked on the door to her room

“Room service” he called and the door opened

“Yes please” she replied and pulled him into the room by his belt and the second the door closed behind him she pinned him to the door and kissed him.

“You were pleased to see me then?” he said

“Yes” she replied unnecessarily “but it was agony, I so wanted to kiss you and hold you”

“So did I” Paul said and kissed her before they walked deeper into the room.