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 sprawling village of Denmead where the participants of this particular tale
live their lives, and the tale began in late November.
Hazel
Fordham found herself living alone for the first time in her life at the age of
twenty-seven, after her sister Hayley moved out to be with the love of her
life.
Hazel
hadn’t found hers yet, not that she didn’t have plenty of offers, because she
was an attractive girl, but the men she seemed to attract had different expectations
from a relationship to her.
Living
alone in the house she had been born in didn’t daunt her in anyway, and in many
ways, life went on in exactly the same way as it did before Hayley left.
She was
financially secure; Hayley and the rest of the family were still just a phone
call away and she had plenty of friends.
The only
thing she needed to immediately remedy was to buy a dog, she had always wanted
one, but Hayley was allergic.
She didn’t
know what sort of dog she wanted other than the size, the dog couldn’t be so
big that it took her for a walk, because she was only 4ft 11 and nor could it
be one of those ridiculous creatures that celebrities carried around in their
handbags, other than that she was open to anything.
She heard
through a colleague at work that a friend of theirs had a West Highland Terrier
that they wanted to go to a good home.
Hazel was
given a phone number and called to arrange a mutually convenient time for her
to go round.
The address
was only a few streets away, so she walked round to Cooper’s Copse Close to
number 35, which was a bungalow, and the walk took her about 15 minutes.
She rang
the bell and provoked a bark in response and then a moment later the door
opened, and she was greeted by a pleasant looking man about her own age with
sandy coloured hair.
“Mr.
Miles?” she asked
“Clive” he
replied “You must be Hazel”
“Yes”
“Please
come in” he said and stood aside and let her pass and smiled
“He’s
lovely” she thought and when she got inside, she felt the same about the dog,
and it wagged his little tail frantically as Hazel made a fuss of him.
“Well, I
can see he’s made up his mind about you already” Clive said
“He’s
adorable” Hazel said “I don’t know how you can bare to part with him”
“Well, I
have to admit it’s not through choice” he replied
“He’s my
gran’s dog really but she reached the point where she was struggling to look
after herself let alone this little fella” he explained “So she’s had to move
into sheltered accommodation, and unfortunately he’s not allowed”
“That’s
really sad” Hazel said, “Did you not want to take him?”
“I did but
unfortunately my landlord doesn’t allow pets either” he replied and gave the
dog a lot of fuss.
“Do you
live locally?” she asked
“Yes, just
five minutes away” Clive replied
“I’ve been
staying here to look after him while we found him a good home, and I’ve got to
clear the bungalow by the end of the month so the council can relet it”
Clive had
made up his mind within a few minutes that Hazel was the right person to take
on Snowy, but they still sat talking for over an hour.
Just before
she took her leave, she wrote down her phone number and handed it to Clive
“I live
locally as well so if you ever want to pop round and see him, or…. join us on
our walk please just call”
“Really?”
Clive said “That would be lovely”
Clive gave
her a “bag for life” containing all of Snowy’s possessions and Clive waved them
off and she returned it as she walked away with Snowy and she hoped he was a
good prospect.
She was on
a walk in the woods with Snowy on a cold and damp November morning a week later
when they took a trail they had not followed previously, which was almost
exclusively uphill, and when they reached the summit, she stopped and looked
down at the farm below, which had its own wind turbine, and she wasn’t sure she
liked what she saw.
“It’s
hideous, isn’t it?” a voice behind her said
Hazel
turned around to see it was Clive Miles
“It is
rather” she agreed “and it’s nice to see you again”
“And you”
he said and then added “And not forgetting you either boy”
“He’s
pleased to see you too” Hazel pointed out
As he was
stroking Snowy, he said
“I was
going to ring you but in the turmoil of clearing Gran’s bungalow I lost the
piece of paper you wrote your phone number on”
“How
annoying” she said but internally she was saying “thank goodness for that”
She had
hoped he would ring, and she was really disappointed when he didn’t.
“I saw you
cross the road into the woods” Clive said “so I followed, but I couldn’t catch
you up, especially when you started uphill, you are deceptively fast for
someone with …”
“Little
legs” she suggested and giggled
“Yes” he
agreed and laughed as well.
At the end
of the walk, they both expressed how much they’d enjoyed it and said they’d
like to do it again.
However
over the next week or so the walks were foreshortened by the weather, which was
not conducive to prolonged country walks, but the dog had to be exercised, so
some exposure to the elements was necessary, there was finally a break in the
weather, so Hazel phoned Clive and they arranged to meet at the entrance to the
woods, so Snowy was given a thorough walking and at the end of it the three of
them were shattered, and they still had to get home.
The walk
back down through the woods was much harder on their legs than the one up was
and when they reached the road Hazel said
“I’m
exhausted, and I really need a cup of tea, would you like to join me?”
“I’d love
to” Clive
The day
after it was a cold foggy day, one of those days when the fog clung on all day,
so they took Snowy on a safer route, where the path was more substantial, but
even that was not without problems, as one of the paths had been blocked by a
fallen tree, and Hazel spotted something in the branches, a huge ball of
mistletoe.
“Look” she
exclaimed “Can you get some?”
“Erm…”
Clive exclaimed ashen faced
“What’s
wrong?” she asked with concern
“Heights”
he said sheepishly “I can’t even stand on a stool”
“No
problem” she said handing him the dog’s lead “hold that”
Hazel
clambered up onto the trunk and began walking up an adjoining branch like she
was a highwire performer, confident and surefooted.
“Be
careful” he called with concern as she reached a narrower branch and then when
she had a clump of mistletoe in hand she about faced, and he closed his eyes
and didn’t open them again until she jumped down beside him.
The
freezing fog was showing no sign of abating and had got into their bones, so
they cut the walk short at that point and went back to her house for coffee.
When they
were sitting in the kitchen drinking their coffee and were beginning to thaw
out, she picked up the mistletoe and asked
“Do you
think this is as good as shop bought?”
“I think
so, especially after your daredevil act” he replied
“Well, I’ve
only every used shop bought before” Hazel confessed as she stood up and walked
towards him
“So, I
think we should test the quality of this bunch”
So, Hazel
leant down and kissed him, and a few moments later she was sitting on his lap,
and they didn’t need the mistletoe anymore.
