Sunday, 8 September 2024

The Islands in the Bay – Chapter (001) Origins


January

Beaumont Island is the largest of the two Bay Islands, 11 miles long and 8 miles wide, with a population of around 3000, and was first settled by the Romans, who called it Saxa Viridia, the green Rock, and built a fort on the hill above the harbour with a commanding view across the open water and any approaching vessels that might threaten the garrison on the mainland.

It was not a popular posting for most of the soldiers because of the remoteness and the quiet, the remainder liked it for the same reasons.

 

Following the formal end of the Roman occupation of Britain at the beginning of the 5th Century AD, the islands were largely unoccupied until the arrival of the Norman’s after their victory over King Harold at Hastings, when a close friend of William of Normandy, a minor nobleman, Gilbert du Beaumont, claimed the islands for himself, and took up residence on the larger Island which he promptly named after himself. 

The other island he named St Giles du Cabot in honour of his cousin and childhood friend who died of his wounds after the battle.

 

When Gilbert and his entourage first set foot on the island only the wooden piles remained from the old Roman Quayside, so the first task was to build a new one of stone along with breakwaters, sea walls and tetrapods, until the port of St Pierre-Eglise was born, so named as it was the birthplace of his wife Eleanor.

Work began in earnest on the town once the port was fully functional, including a Manor House and a Norman Church, unfortunately neither Gilbert nor his wife lived long enough to see St Pierre completed, but they were both buried on the island.

The burden of completing the work his parents had begun fell to their second son William, as his elder brother Robert had gone to fight in the first crusade and never returned.

Robert was not the first Beaumont son to fall in battle and he wouldn’t be the last, but the family stewardship protected the  land for over 900 years before war finally ended the family’s tenure when three successive heirs were killed in action during the Great War and the accumulated death duties forced George, the only surviving Beamont, to sell off the estate in 1920, auctioning off the buildings, the port and parcels of land.

Fortunately, the sale managed to raise enough to pay off the taxman, while being able to keep Woodside Farm for himself and retain a Beaumont family presence on the island.

 

However, this story begins 4,700 miles away from the island where bestselling crime fiction writer, Danny Nightingale, creator of the Fraser Markham series, was in the USA on a book signing tour, while simultaneously researching for a new book series he had been promising his publisher, Max Parsons, for some time, with a new protagonist Sharon Jacques.

At the age of twenty-eight, to have had not one, but three bestsellers was some kind of achievement.

He had been in the states for three months when he completed his tour and already had a clear outline sketched out for his new book, so he was feeling good and looking forward to returning to Downshire.

However, in January while he was travelling through Colorado, Danny got caught in a snowstorm and crashed his car into a snowbank.

He wasn’t badly hurt, but he did have a wrist fracture, a couple of broken ribs, a mild concussion and assorted cuts, bruises, and abrasions.

His hire car didn’t fare quite so well and was a write off, so the car got towed and he ended up in the ER.

While he was there, he called his publisher who arranged to have him transferred, after his wrist was set, via a private ambulance to a more exclusive hospital close to Colorado Springs called High Pines, where he met Sir Avery Arnold and his granddaughter Molly Barrington, a meeting which, although he didn’t know it at the time, was to change his life forever.

 

He had been in the hospital for three days before Danny arrived, but it was twenty-four hours later when he was summoned for an audience.

It was Molly who first spotted him as she was walking along the corridor past his room, no one else seemed to realize who he was, so she began to doubt herself, so she walked slowly past the door another five times until, she was sure.

Molly was a huge fan of his books, but was far too shy to approach him herself, which was why Sir Avery summoned him instead.

However, it wasn’t until his fourth day at High Pines that he felt up to accepting the invitation from the great man.

Wednesday, 31 July 2024

SNOW GIRL

 

When the snow girl dumped

Her guy for someone older

She froze him out of her life

And gave him the cold shoulder

Wednesday, 24 July 2024

Uncanny Christmas Tales – (049) The Santa Express

 

The Dulcets are a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet St Mary, Dulcet Green, and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet-on-Willow, a large sprawling village beside the gentle shallow River Willow, which ran unhurriedly from the Pepperstock Hills to the more vibrant River Brooke, and it was on the banks of the river where the home of Clare Gammon was situated.

It was previously her family home and she had lived there all 26 years of her life; she had lived alone in the house for 2 of those years.

She worked in Dulcet St Mary for the Dulcet Garden Centre as a senior buyer, but she had many more strings to her bow.

Clare was very active in the church, at St Bede’s as well as farther afield.

This involved among other things, being a greeter at the church services, delivering Parish Magazines, helping at the Christmas Bazaar, Summer Fete, and Sunday School, you name it, and she did it and that was only in the village.

Her wider good works included the Soup Kitchens in Finchbottom or Purplemere, who were always desperate for volunteers.

The Christmas Charity Wagon in Sharpington, which was an old Mornington Brewery dray, pulled by two white shire horses, which was bedecked with tinsel and lights and carried on the back, a multi denominational choir singing Christmas Carols.

Clare was not however, among those going from door to door, as the wagon drove around the town, collecting donations in plastic buckets and handing out sweets to the excited children, no she was in the choir on the back of the Dray because she had the voice of an angel.

She also volunteered for the Roving Angels, which had been in existence for about two years and was similar to the Street Angels, Street Pastors and other groups that had sprung up all across the UK in the previous 20 or 25 years.

They had made a really positive impact on crime and antisocial behaviour in Finchbottom and Purplemere town centres over the first two years, particularly in the general vicinity of the bars and clubs.

Providing a calming presence on the streets late at night in situations where a police uniform might have the opposite effect.

In the first two years of the Roving Angels, they had contributed to a 29% fall in public place violence on the weekends.

It all began when Christian Churches in the area came together with the Police and the Borough Council’s to establish the Angels.

But it took people of Faith to make it work as with so many things in life.

Clare had been doing it for two years so had not been with them since the beginning.

 

But one of her favourite good deeds was to help out on the Santa Express, which was something to behold, and she loved it because it reminded her of her childhood.

The Santa Express was in reality the Finchbottom Flyer, a 4-6-2 standard gauge four-cylinder steam locomotive built at the Northchapel Works in 1933, liveried in the black and gold of the DCRN, Downshire County Railway Network.

It was a great work horse of the DCRN from 1933 until 1962. 

After it was taken out of service it was stored at the Northchapel Works and remained there for twenty-five years, until it and several other engines and assorted rolling stock were acquired by the Downshire Railway Preservation Society, with the financial support and patronage of Baron St George of Mornington, who was a man with a strong sense of history and his stewardship of the Mornington Estate wasn’t restricted just to the land and properties within the Estate, they also ensured the protection of historically significant buildings and landmarks under threat from modernizers.

Although steam railway engines didn’t really fall within the Estates normal parameters his Lordship made an unprecedented exception.

The acquisition of the Flyer was made in 1988 and the restoration  was completed in 1992. 

The maiden journey for fare paying customers was on the August Bank Holiday in 1993 and ran from Sharping St Mary to Sharpinghead and then onto Sharpington.

It wasn’t until seven years later when the Sharpington spur line was completed, they had access to the main Finchbottom line and were able to go County wide.

It was two years earlier than that when the Flyer had its first outing as the Santa Express which ran from Sharping St Mary station to a secret location where Santa was waiting in his village and grotto.

It was actually the old herb drying sheds which had been preserved and renovated and dressed for the season.

The train picked up children and their parent’s late afternoon so that they arrived at the grotto in darkness in order to make the most of the spectacular lights.

It ran every day from the first of December up until Christmas and there were always plenty of Elves aboard to ensure the children didn’t escape from the carriages.

Clare Gammon was one of those Elves, it was one of the high points of her year, she well remembered her parents taking her when she was a young girl and she liked to see other kids as excited as she used to be at their age.

 

On Wednesday afternoon she drove to Sharping St Mary and when she got there the kids were going crazy with excitement and she found the excitement was quite infectious.

But her job on the trip was to make sure none of the over excited little darlings fell off the train.

There were always plenty of helpers, many of whom she already knew, but there was often a new face or two, and that Wednesday was no difference, but one helper fell into both categories.

She had just got aboard the carriage and closed the door when a voice behind her said

“My God its Miss Piggy”

Only one person had ever called her Miss Piggy, and that was Michael Cooper, but she hadn’t seen him since they were at school together when they were 14, because he moved out of the village, she didn’t know where to.

She turned around to face the speaker,

“It is you” he said and laughed, and the schoolgirl crush she had on him as a 14-year-old girl flooded over her again, even though the tall man with broad shoulders and hands like shovels, short brown hair, neatly trimmed beard, and hazel eyes, was so different from the boy she worshipped, only his infectious laugh was the same.

“Michael!” she exclaimed

“The very same” he replied

“Not the same” she corrected him “but definitely you”

She had never believed in love at first sight or in soul mates, she thought them rather fanciful notions, the stuff of romantic fiction and sentimental movies.

That was until she met the grown-up incarnation of Michael Cooper when she was instantly smitten, but she doubted he would feel the same.

“What are you doing here?” she asked

“The same as you”

“That’s not what I meant” she said, but then became aware that the sounds of bedlam were emanating from her carriage

“I’d better go” she said regretfully  

“I would love to catch up though” she called over her shoulder

“Me too” he shouted after her

 

She did catch sight of him a couple of times after that, the first time was when one of the Elves, Lily Farmer managed to trap him between the carriages armed with a bunch of mistletoe and only when she had satisfied herself in the pagan ritual did, she let him go.

Irrationally, having witnessed the kiss, she was not at all happy about it, but she did enjoy seeing him again.

Now if the kids were excited on the way to the grotto, then judging by the decibel level, they were even more so on the way back to the station.

The second time she saw him was when they disembarked after the return journey, and the children and their parents made their way home, when her own cousin Eleanor kissed him and said goodbye.

Sadly, she never got to speak to him again, not that day at any rate.

 

She drove back to Willow rerunning the day’s events in her head and just as she pulled onto her drive, her phone rang, so she came to a halt and answered it.

“Hello!”

“Hi Clare” her cousin Eleanor said

“Guess who asked me for your number today?”

Uncanny Christmas Tales – (048) The Garden Center Girls

 

Dulcet St Mary was where the Dulcet Garden Centre was located, which was where Jane Price and Mandy Hubble first met, and was also where Jane fell head over heels in love, with Mandy.

Jane had worked at the Garden Centre since she left school but

Mandy joined as a new hire in October, and was also new to Dulcet St Mary, and actually lived in the same mews as Jane.

She was a year younger than Jane, but like her she was socially awkward, and lacked confidence.

As a result, they just smiled at each other for the first month, but at least sat at the same table for lunch, and by December they progressed beyond monosyllabic conversations, and in the week before Christmas they arranged to go Christmas shopping together in Abbottsford.

Jane was a little concerned there might be an awkward silence on the drive over, or at some point during the day as they had never spent more than half an hour in each other’s company before that day.

She needn’t have worried as Mandy chattered away for the whole journey, as she was so full of excitement.

 

Jane had a lovely day, and she was pretty sure that Mandy had too, so when they were heading back to the car park, walking past the library, hands full of bags and chatting, Jane formulated her plan.

Just after the library they turned left by the art gallery and down a cobbled alley which led to the carpark, then they put all their bags in the car and set off back to the Dulcets.

 

Mandy was anxious to go and show her mum her purchases, but Jane had other ideas.

So, when she parked outside her cottage and they had retrieved all the bags, Jane locked the car and rushed up the path to her front door.

“Come on Mandy” Jane called “come in for a minute”

“Ok I’m coming” Mandy called back “Just for five minutes though”

“Alright come in and close the door” she said and went inside.

Mandy followed her in with bags in each hand and closed the door behind her as instructed, but when she pushed the sitting room door open, she found Jane standing in front of her holding up a sprig of mistletoe, and before she could react Jane took her by surprise and kissed her,

“I didn’t think we were doing presents until next week”

Mandy said, dropped her bags and kissed her back. 

 

Mandy had stayed much longer than five minutes when they shared a soft, gentle, and affectionate farewell kiss, before Jane opened the door and Mandy went home to share her news with her mum.

Angela With The Elphin Face

 

If you looked closely at Angela Buckland you couldn’t help but see why she was one of the most popular girls at school.

Her Elphin face had a shape and symmetry that was easy on the eye and her figure was to die for.

Although there were girls who were more classically beautiful they didn’t have any of the character of Angela’s.

Her silky red hair shone and shimmered as she moved her head and her brown eyes bore into your soul when you met their gaze.

As if her unique beauty was not enough she was also athletic, artistic, intelligent and sexy.

I think everyone, boy or girl that ever met her fell instantly in love with her.
But I had been in love with her since before she blossomed.

Despite all the attention though Angela managed to keep everyone of the suitors at bay which led to the rumour that she played for the other side.

I never believed that for a moment and I had known her longer than anyone.

Because Angela Buckland was the girl next door.

And she had lived there since she was three and we had been best friends since the beginning.

So when she was approaching her seventeenth birthday I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to get an invitation we had after all been friends since nursery school.

 

Having established that Angela was one of the popular group, I was in no uncertain terms not.

I was not athletic, artistic, or sexy but without being immodest we did have intelligence in common and my forte was science, in particular Physics.   

So under normal circumstances, friendship and intelligence aside, why would one of the popular girls invite a Science geek to her 17th birthday party?

Anyone not close to her could be forgiven if they were surprised but I was not.

They would have been further surprised when it turned out I was only one of six guests at the party one of those being Angela herself.

Though for me it certainly wasn’t a surprise knowing her as I did she was never a flashy person.

She didn’t want a big flashy party with lots of superficial friends.

So there was just Angela, me and four other guests who were also old friends chosen for their friendship and not their social standing.

Kelly Reed was also one of the popular girls but she started with us in nursery as well and she had no affectation either, her cousin Roy Pollard who was 18, Mark Clench and Susanna Perioli.

The party was at a Chinese restaurant called the Blossom Garden which was Angela’s favourite.

As you would expect from such a great restaurant it was a really excellent meal and as Roy was 18 he ordered wine with meal so as we reminisced about our shared history we laughed until we cried.

 

As we left the Blossom Garden and got down to street level we had the usual hugs and kisses on the pavement and then Kelly went accross the road to where her Dads car was parked.

Then as Mark, Susie and Roy all lived in the same neck of the woods went off to get the bus and Angela and I headed to the station to catch the train.

 

As we walked up station approach I said

“I had a really great time” 

“Yeh me too” she replied

“Wasnt it great to get the six of us together again?”

“We should do it more often” I suggested

““We” should get together more often” Angela said

“What just the two of us?” I asked

“Yeh” she said coyly

“Just you and the geek?” I asked with surprise

"You’re not a geek” she said defensively “And anyway if you were that wouldn’t stop me fancying you," she said.
"You fancy me?" I asked pointing at myself
"Didn't you know?"
I shook my head
"What about you?” she asked shyly

“Do you fancy me?

“I don’t know about fancying you” I said and she was clearly crestfallen for a second

“But I’ve been in love with you since we were 7 if that counts”

“Pig” she said and laughed before she kissed me softy on the lips which led to the most wonderful spine tingling embrace that seemed to last forever.

When it ended she looked at me with her soulful eyes and smiled the most loving smile.

I returned her smile and wanted to say something fitting for the moment but I was lost for words.

“Wow” she said beating me to the punch

Then she giggled and ran off up the road and shouted over her shoulder

“You’ll have to marry me now”

Friday, 8 December 2023

Uncanny Love Tales – (078) The Dapper Doctor

 

It happened during one special Summer Holiday on Teardrop Lake when Brothers Julian and Nigel Arbury were staying at the Shallowfield Lodge Hotel on the shore of Teardrop Lake.

The view of the lake from the forested hills was spectacular, the lake was shaped like a teardrop, hence its name, and surrounded by the ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forrest.

It wasn’t a huge body of water, just over two miles long and almost a mile at its widest point, but it was beautiful and relatively unspoilt.

Julian spent his days sailing on the Lake, whereas Nigel was more interested in walking the woods or birdwatching.

The lake was beautiful, it was both idyllic and peaceful, there was little or no noise pollution and although the lake was used, there were no speed boats or jet skis, only rowing boats, canoes, dinghies, skiffs and the more recently introduced electric dinghies.  

 

Julian hadn’t seen an electric dinghy before, until his first day out on the lake, it was out in the middle of the lake with an olive-skinned girl sitting on the bow fishing with her lovely legs hanging over the side and dangling in the water and she gave him a wave as he passed her, which he returned.

He sailed up and down the lake for another hour and a half before he passed the boat again and this time she was standing up in the boat and waving both arms frantically, so he went over to investigate.

“Is everything ok?” he called as he lowered the sail.

“It won’t start” she replied.

“Out of charge?”

“No, out of bloody order” she replied and laughed.

“Do you want a ride back to shore?” he asked as he drifted alongside.   

“Yes please” she replied and climbed aboard and handed him the painter which he tied to the stern cleat “I’m Maria by the way”.

“Julian” he responded.

“Where would you like to go?”

“Can you take me to the East Jetty?” she said and pointed it out.

It took a while because it was against the wind, but they chatted on the way.

Her full name was Maria Fiorellino, and as her name suggested, she was of Italian decent, with a Mediterranean complexion, dark lustrous hair, and a beautiful smile.

She was a doctor at the local Health Centre and was in danger of being late for her afternoon telephone consults, she would have missed them altogether had he not come along when he did.

He drifted up to the jetty, climbed out and tied off the line before taking Maria’s hand and helping her step onto the jetty.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said and smiled before tying her boat to the capstan.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue, I’d offer you some lunch but I’m desperately late”.

“Some other time” Julian said.

“It’s a date, I mean… well … you know … bye” she stammered and rushed off.

“Very nice” he muttered to himself “Very nice indeed”.

 

He spent the next couple of days on the lake but didn’t see her out in her boat again. 

Then the day after, he had to take Nigel, well forced would have been nearer the mark, to the Dancingdean Health Centre in Shallowfield after getting a nasty cut on his leg following a slip on wet rocks by Shoe Buckle Falls, so named, as legend had it, after a 17th century fugitive Cavalier who was pursued into the forest by parliamentarian soldiers but disappeared in the vicinity of the falls and all they ever found of him was his shoe buckle.

Nigel didn’t want to make a fuss over the cut on his leg, he would have been quite happy to stick a few plasters on it, but Julian was having none of it.

“It needs stitches” Julian insisted.

“But…”

“But nothing” Julian said, “Get in the car”.

 

The owner of the Shallowfield Lodge, Sheryl Brown, had phoned ahead so when they got to the Health Centre they were expecting them, it was while they were sitting in the waiting area that he caught sight of Doctor Fiorellino just for a minute, long enough to take in and appreciate her, medium height, super slim, very dapper in a dark blue trouser suit, and standing perfectly erect with her tiny feet together, looking very prim and proper, then sadly she went back into her room.

After Nigel’s name had been called and he followed the practice nurse into the surgery, he got up and walked over to where he had seen her and pretended to study the notice board.

He was there for a full five minutes before he heard her door open and when he heard footsteps, he turned around he said.

“Hello Doctor”

“Oh er… um … Julian …” she stammered and smiled broadly.

“What a nice surprise, nothing serious I hope”.

“Serious?”

“The reason for your visit to the surgery” she explained.

“Oh, I see, no its my brother, he has a nasty gash on his leg” he replied, “I’m just here to remind you about the lunch you owe me”.

“Oh yes lunch” she responded and began playing with her hair in a flirty way.

“I can’t really manage lunch this week, but what about dinner?”

“Even better” he said, and she blushed.