When Keith Fulbrook was growing up Christmas was a very special time for him and every year the season evoked so many memories and many of those memories were of the times he spent at his grandparent’s farm in Shallowfield.
A row of wellington boots standing on the flagstones, fresh from hours of play in the snow and dripping wet mittens drying on a string behind the tortoise stove in the kitchen, the smell of burning logs and damp wool invading the nostrils, soon to be replaced by the scent of a fresh cut fir tree in the living room filling the air with the aroma of Christmas joining the smells of nutmeg and ginger coming from the pantry.
He just had to smell pipe smoke and he was back with his grandpa with his twinkling blue eyes and wry smile as he puffed out a dense cloud of aromatic smoke from his meerschaum pipe.
But it wasn’t just smells, the house was always alive with the ringing sounds of boisterous laughter of ten grandchildren of varying ages filling the house.
And when the house wasn’t resounding with laughter it was music as the family gatherings always prompted renditions of the carols and songs of Christmas played on guitar and fiddle and sung with gusto.
But that wasn’t the only Christmas music he remembered there was also the sweet sounds of a choir at the candlelit midnight mass.
But candlelight was eclipsed by the sparkle and twinkle of the fairy lights reflected on the fragile glass ornaments and heirloom decorations that magically transformed his grandparent’s living room into his childish vision of a magic wonderland.
And then there were the tastes candy canes and chocolates from the tree, satsumas and nuts in their stockings, sugar almonds, jellied fruits, dates, liquorice, and mints.
Turkey and all the trimmings, Gammon, Christmas pudding, brandy butter, mince pies, shortbread, pies, tarts, fruit cakes, sausage rolls.
But all the bounty of the table was far outweighed by the abundance of love which was linked to every single memory.
But his favourite Christmas memory came when the winter delivered up the perfect Christmas gift, snow.
When Keith went to bed the wind howling through the trees gave no clue that it was carrying Jack Frost to the Vale but the next morning when he woke up to the sound of excited squeals and when he looked outside he gazed out at the whitened landscape and ten minutes later all the grandchildren dashed out into the white magical world, screaming and shouting like released convicts rejoicing in a new-found freedom.
The warm knitted gloves were soon abandoned as snowballs were hurled in all directions.
Shrieks filled the winter air as aims improved and increasing numbers found their mark.
As the battle ground expanded they joined forces with a group of village children and that was the moment he first saw Yvonne Sage and he discovered there was something even more exciting than a white Christmas.
Yvonne was the same age as him, give or take, and she was tall for a fourteen year old girl, lean and wiry with braided brown hair and a bit of a tomboy but he was smitten.
But he had never noticed a girl before so he didn’t really know what to do about his infatuation.
But because she chose to join a group building a snowman so did he.
Rudolf, their giant snowman, gradually took shape on the village green.
A red tartan scarf was draped around his broad shoulders and a boy produced an old battered black hat, which was accidently set at a jaunty angle on his huge head which gave him a rakish look.
Two un-sucked gobstoppers provided him with staring blue eyes.
Keith and Yvonne held the ends of a length of old rope which they tied around Rudolph’s substantial waist, some pebbles substituted for buttons, a carrot nose and a stick mouth completed the magnificent figure.
And then they stood back to admire their handiwork.
Despite being pleased with the finished article Keith panicked because he didn’t know what to do next if Yvonne suddenly went off with her friends.
But then Tom and Lindsay Collingwood suggested going up to Coopers Hill for a bit of sledding.
“Yeh count me in” Yvonne said “What about you Keith?”
Keith was so releived that he didn’t know what to say so he just nodded his agreement and she smiled because she really liked him and she wanted him to go with her.
And so they walked up to Coopers Hill together and the fact that they didn’t have a sled or a toboggan didn’t seem to faze them at all, so on the way there they collected some cardboard boxes from outside Stephenson Supermarket and shared a sheet of cardboard and used it to ride down the hill, screaming at every bump, and when they got to the bottom Tomboy Yvonne had a boyfriend.
Although they didn’t realise it at the time they were victims of love at first sight and it was a love that lasted a life time.
Sunday 2 July 2017
Saturday 1 July 2017
Downshire Diary – (97) Sultry Summer Love
Paul Biggerstaff and Liz Bradshaw were staying on a camp site in the Finchbottom Vale that was once a working railway station before it fell afoul of Dr Beeching and his cuts, in a place called Sharpinghead.
The two of them were staying in the converted railway station, as part of a family gathering, as they did for a month every summer.
Among those drawn back to Sharpinghead each year were the four Walker girls, sister’s Jane, Kathy, Margaret and the baby of the family, Liz.
And over the years the numbers grew with the addition of boyfriends, husbands and then for the older two girls, children.
And it was on the whole a very loving family and among their number were Paul Biggerstaff and Liz Bradshaw but they felt love of a very different kind.
The problem was they were not a couple, they were married however, just not to each other, and they were in fact brother and sister in law.
Paul had been married to Liz’s sister Margaret for over four years and they had been in love with each other for all of those and their mutual attraction was obvious to them both from the first moment they were introduced, but they knew instinctively that they could never act on it.
And for over four years they kept their feelings in check, at least until Christmas in 1970 when with the aid of mulled wine and mistletoe they kissed.
When they reflected on it later the nature of the kiss had surprised them both, once they started they didn’t want to stop, but stop they did, it was not just a perfect Christmas kiss, it was perfect on every level, and having broken the ice with a kiss, they wanted to repeat it.
But the next morning in the cold, sober, light of day, they felt guilty, really, really guilty, but not just for weakening, the guilt came because the kiss revealed that they were not just attracted by naked lust, after the kiss they realised it was love, so they avoided each other for the rest of the week.
They had both decided they would not get drunk in case they let their guard down on New Year’s Eve and kissed again.
In the New Year being in close proximity to each other was torture being close enough that they could smell each other was both a blessing and a curse, and being so close to one another that they could touch was agony, but there were occasional opportunities when they succumbed to the temptation.
But they had mixed feelings when the time came around again to go to Sharpinghead for the summer family gathering.
It was always fun at Sharpinghead and there was always plenty to do,
The campsite was attached to Maxlin’s Holiday Camp and although the campgrounds and the old railway buildings were nothing to do with Maxlin’s, all those who stayed there automatically qualified for day passes to use some of the amenities.
Unfortunately doing family stuff together brought them into each other’s orbits time after time every single day and it was driving them to distraction.
After that first surrender to their love at Christmas Liz felt alive and tingling all over and she wanted more of the same.
There had been the occasional repeat of their perfect kissing but they were few and far between and relied mainly on chance.
Paul for one was desperate to try and engineer something a little more prolonged.
So Paul separated himself and Liz from the group and took her over to Mornington where they spent a very pleasant afternoon together and enjoyed it so much so that they felt like a couple and they both wanted more of that and over the next couple of weeks there was more but it was on their last weekend at Sharpinghead when things came to a head.
Paul woke up on Sunday morning in an empty bed and he noticed that Margaret’s clothes were not strewn all over the bedroom floor as was her habit and shoes were not standing sentry by the door as they would have been had she been in.
He got up and walked bleary eyed down the hall to the bathroom to relieve himself and when he returned, equally bleary eyed he opened the bedroom door and climbed back into bed and was delighted to discover there was a warm body beneath the duvet and he guessed that Margaret must have got back into bed while he was in the bathroom.
Paul snuggled up to her and she murmured softly in her sleep but as he kissed the skin of her shoulder, she woke up and rolled onto her back, but it wasn’t Margaret he was looking at but the smiling face of her younger sister Liz and then he kissed her smiling mouth.
“I’d better go” he said
“No don’t” she implored
“Where’s Bob?” he asked
“Fishing” she replied and he rose up on one elbow and looked through a gap in the bedroom curtain where he could see his wife, Margaret, through the window talking to Auntie Vi.
“Which one of us is in the wrong bed?” he asked
“Do you care?” Liz replied
“No not really” he answered and kissed her and after a few minutes he paused to look through the window again and could see Margaret and Aunty Vi disappearing in the distance.
So they did what they had been longing to do for five years and made love.
That sultry Sunday morning marked a turning point in their lives as it brought their relationship to a head and by Christmas they had separated from the respective partners and the following summer they were starting a new life together in Australia and they never saw the family again, but they were truly happy for the first time in their lives.
The two of them were staying in the converted railway station, as part of a family gathering, as they did for a month every summer.
Among those drawn back to Sharpinghead each year were the four Walker girls, sister’s Jane, Kathy, Margaret and the baby of the family, Liz.
And over the years the numbers grew with the addition of boyfriends, husbands and then for the older two girls, children.
And it was on the whole a very loving family and among their number were Paul Biggerstaff and Liz Bradshaw but they felt love of a very different kind.
The problem was they were not a couple, they were married however, just not to each other, and they were in fact brother and sister in law.
Paul had been married to Liz’s sister Margaret for over four years and they had been in love with each other for all of those and their mutual attraction was obvious to them both from the first moment they were introduced, but they knew instinctively that they could never act on it.
And for over four years they kept their feelings in check, at least until Christmas in 1970 when with the aid of mulled wine and mistletoe they kissed.
When they reflected on it later the nature of the kiss had surprised them both, once they started they didn’t want to stop, but stop they did, it was not just a perfect Christmas kiss, it was perfect on every level, and having broken the ice with a kiss, they wanted to repeat it.
But the next morning in the cold, sober, light of day, they felt guilty, really, really guilty, but not just for weakening, the guilt came because the kiss revealed that they were not just attracted by naked lust, after the kiss they realised it was love, so they avoided each other for the rest of the week.
They had both decided they would not get drunk in case they let their guard down on New Year’s Eve and kissed again.
In the New Year being in close proximity to each other was torture being close enough that they could smell each other was both a blessing and a curse, and being so close to one another that they could touch was agony, but there were occasional opportunities when they succumbed to the temptation.
But they had mixed feelings when the time came around again to go to Sharpinghead for the summer family gathering.
It was always fun at Sharpinghead and there was always plenty to do,
The campsite was attached to Maxlin’s Holiday Camp and although the campgrounds and the old railway buildings were nothing to do with Maxlin’s, all those who stayed there automatically qualified for day passes to use some of the amenities.
Unfortunately doing family stuff together brought them into each other’s orbits time after time every single day and it was driving them to distraction.
After that first surrender to their love at Christmas Liz felt alive and tingling all over and she wanted more of the same.
There had been the occasional repeat of their perfect kissing but they were few and far between and relied mainly on chance.
Paul for one was desperate to try and engineer something a little more prolonged.
So Paul separated himself and Liz from the group and took her over to Mornington where they spent a very pleasant afternoon together and enjoyed it so much so that they felt like a couple and they both wanted more of that and over the next couple of weeks there was more but it was on their last weekend at Sharpinghead when things came to a head.
Paul woke up on Sunday morning in an empty bed and he noticed that Margaret’s clothes were not strewn all over the bedroom floor as was her habit and shoes were not standing sentry by the door as they would have been had she been in.
He got up and walked bleary eyed down the hall to the bathroom to relieve himself and when he returned, equally bleary eyed he opened the bedroom door and climbed back into bed and was delighted to discover there was a warm body beneath the duvet and he guessed that Margaret must have got back into bed while he was in the bathroom.
Paul snuggled up to her and she murmured softly in her sleep but as he kissed the skin of her shoulder, she woke up and rolled onto her back, but it wasn’t Margaret he was looking at but the smiling face of her younger sister Liz and then he kissed her smiling mouth.
“I’d better go” he said
“No don’t” she implored
“Where’s Bob?” he asked
“Fishing” she replied and he rose up on one elbow and looked through a gap in the bedroom curtain where he could see his wife, Margaret, through the window talking to Auntie Vi.
“Which one of us is in the wrong bed?” he asked
“Do you care?” Liz replied
“No not really” he answered and kissed her and after a few minutes he paused to look through the window again and could see Margaret and Aunty Vi disappearing in the distance.
So they did what they had been longing to do for five years and made love.
That sultry Sunday morning marked a turning point in their lives as it brought their relationship to a head and by Christmas they had separated from the respective partners and the following summer they were starting a new life together in Australia and they never saw the family again, but they were truly happy for the first time in their lives.
Mornington-By-Mere – (97) A West Bank Cottage Christmas
The James family lives in the village of Mornington-By-Mere, which 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 is not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it is 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 form the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside where the James’s lived in a small two bedroom cottage in the row of West Gate Cottages on the banks of the River Brooke.
Wilson James was 18 years old when he fell in love for first time and it happened at Christmas at the next door neighbour’s house while he was home from University.
He hadn’t intended to, he wasn’t even looking for a girlfriend, he was far too busy and struggled to fit in all the student socializing as it was.
In fact he didn’t even want to go to the Craven’s house that night and he had never even given Deirdre a second look.
Mainly because she was just a kid, after all she was also only 15 when he went away, but also she wasn’t his type, although he had only met her a couple of time as the family only moved in at Easter.
But he did at least remember that she had a crush on him but he shrugged that off, because a lot of girls that he met seemed to feel that way about him.
So under sufferance he went next door with his parents a week before Christmas and when he went in the house and the pleasantries were exchanged he realized that the immature 15 year old who had a crush on him had turned into a dazzling young woman and all at once she had his full attention and he thought that if he couldn’t find a way to fit Deirdre into his life, there was something wrong with him.
They only had eyes for each other from the first moment and over the next week they were inseparable but on Christmas Eve she and her family were driving to Nettlefield to spend Christmas with the Grandparents.
So on that morning shortly before the Craven’s set off the love struck couple exchanged presents, he gave her a locket with his photograph in it, which she loved and then she gave him a beautifully wrapped gift box and said,
“This is for you”
“Wow” he said and was a bit embarrassed and felt a bit guilty because it looked so much more than what he’d got for her.
But he opened the box anyway and found it was empty.
“Is there supposed to be something inside the package?” he asked and she smiled
“It's not empty” she said “I blew kisses into it until it was full”
“That’s really sweet” he said and kissed her
“I got you a proper present as well” she said and handed him what appeared to be a CD “That was just a bit of fun”
He loved the CD because she had chosen it for him, and even though she said it was only a bit of fun he kept that gold box by his bed while she was away and whenever he missed her he would
open the box and take out an imaginary kiss.
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 is not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it is 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 form the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside where the James’s lived in a small two bedroom cottage in the row of West Gate Cottages on the banks of the River Brooke.
Wilson James was 18 years old when he fell in love for first time and it happened at Christmas at the next door neighbour’s house while he was home from University.
He hadn’t intended to, he wasn’t even looking for a girlfriend, he was far too busy and struggled to fit in all the student socializing as it was.
In fact he didn’t even want to go to the Craven’s house that night and he had never even given Deirdre a second look.
Mainly because she was just a kid, after all she was also only 15 when he went away, but also she wasn’t his type, although he had only met her a couple of time as the family only moved in at Easter.
But he did at least remember that she had a crush on him but he shrugged that off, because a lot of girls that he met seemed to feel that way about him.
So under sufferance he went next door with his parents a week before Christmas and when he went in the house and the pleasantries were exchanged he realized that the immature 15 year old who had a crush on him had turned into a dazzling young woman and all at once she had his full attention and he thought that if he couldn’t find a way to fit Deirdre into his life, there was something wrong with him.
They only had eyes for each other from the first moment and over the next week they were inseparable but on Christmas Eve she and her family were driving to Nettlefield to spend Christmas with the Grandparents.
So on that morning shortly before the Craven’s set off the love struck couple exchanged presents, he gave her a locket with his photograph in it, which she loved and then she gave him a beautifully wrapped gift box and said,
“This is for you”
“Wow” he said and was a bit embarrassed and felt a bit guilty because it looked so much more than what he’d got for her.
But he opened the box anyway and found it was empty.
“Is there supposed to be something inside the package?” he asked and she smiled
“It's not empty” she said “I blew kisses into it until it was full”
“That’s really sweet” he said and kissed her
“I got you a proper present as well” she said and handed him what appeared to be a CD “That was just a bit of fun”
He loved the CD because she had chosen it for him, and even though she said it was only a bit of fun he kept that gold box by his bed while she was away and whenever he missed her he would
open the box and take out an imaginary kiss.
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (97) Christmas in Sharpington – Alex’s Tale
The traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, has all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park and 55 year old triplets, Alex, James and Jenny Wardle live together in the huge house they grew up in, in the grand neighbourhood of Granite Hill, which in a nod to San Francisco, the locals had nicknamed Nob Hill.
“So it’s Christmas time again” Alex said as he looked out the window.
“As if anyone could fail to notice” James added as he and Jenny joined him at the drawing room window.
Even without leaving the house they could see more than half a dozen houses decorated to the hilt.
Every coloured light imaginable, Santa's on the roof or climbing a ladder, sleighs, elves, snowmen, bells, stars, baubles and last but by no means least standing almost four feet high that perennial favourite Winnie the Pooh.
Alex was taken aback, what the hell did Pooh have to do with Christmas? And later as he and his siblings walked down to the seafront he noticed that every other house seemed to have one, there was even one on the pier so he guessed there must be something in it.
He didn't recall mention of him in the bible and in all of the many nativity plays he had seen over the years Winnie the Pooh was conspicuous by his absence and although there is a donkey in the story it wasn’t Eeyore.
The stable did not house Piglet and the wise men did not travel from the east with Tigger bearing gifts of Huney.
Nor in any of the Christmas traditions around the world is there a single reference to Pooh as one of Santa's helpers, there was Black Peter, and the Jolly Elf, there was even the devil figure Krampus, but no Pooh, but it appeared to him, that the people of Sharpington were giving him pride of place on their lawns that Christmas.
As they turned left onto the promenade the early winter sun broke through the mackerel skies exposing patches of the bluest sky and if he had had any remaining doubts that Christmas was coming to Sharpington they were soon dispelled as the promenade was decked in its Christmas garb.
Inflatable Santa’s climb the walls of the Fun Park and the pier was draped in LED icicles.
Then when they passed the Seaview Hotel they saw what looked like a cheery red-suited burglar hanging from one of the balconies and they all laughed before they went their separate ways.
Alex was the only one of the three who had lived his whole life in Sharpington, having married a local girl with whom he Managed the Palladium Ballroom and raised two children and with both children married and settled he and Natalie looked forward to their retirement together but it wasn’t to be, as she had a massive heart attack only two months before their leisurely life was to begin.
He considered himself very lucky that he had his siblings to support him in his hour of need and they had helped him when he didn’t want to leave the house, when he couldn’t see a future, when he couldn’t function.
But two years later he went out, in fact he went out often and he began to enjoy life again and part of that enjoyment was being with James and Jenny and another part was Tracy Whitehouse.
He had known Tracy since he was at school but she was Tracy Gurney back then and he had reconnected with her at a bereavement group at the Jubilee Community Centre.
When he parted company with the others he didn’t have any definite plans he just set out to enjoy the respite in the weather.
That was until he caught sight of Tracy going into the café and he decided there was something better to do than enjoy the weather so he went to the café to join her, even if it meant he would have to have breakfast number two of the day.
It was busy in the café with lots of chatter and he hears Tracy order a bacon sandwich and a coffee above the hubbub, so he ordered the same and walked over to her table and said
“Do you mind if I join you”
“Oh yes that would be lovely” she said when she turned around for the first time.
“So what are you up to today?” he asked
“Nothing much” she replied “I’m just enjoying the winter sunshine before the rain rolls in again this afternoon”
“So what about when the rain does come back?” Alex asked
“Back home I suppose” she said “What about you?”
“Well there showing “Shop Around The Corner” at the Tivoli” he said
“Oooh I love James Stewart” Tracy said
“Why don’t you join me then” he suggested
“I’d love to” she replied and smiled
So they finished their breakfast and then they stepped outside and went for a walk in the sunshine, firstly on the beach and then as the clouds began to gather they walked along the pier because there were plenty of places to shelter should the rain arrive early.
As it turned out the rain held off but the temperature dipped so they spent a lot of time out of the wind keeping warm and they lost track of time and had to forgo lunch or miss the start of the film so they pigged out on popcorn instead while they watched the classic film.
By the time they left the theatre the expected rain had turned to snow and there was quite a lot of it.
“Oh dear I wasn’t expecting this” she said
“It’s just like the film” Alex said
“It is rather” she agreed
“Although Sharpington isn’t quite historic Budapest”
“No that’s true but it has its pluses” he said looking at her, and made her blush
“And in the film the girl got her man” she said coyly
“Well I’m game if you are” he said and took hold of her hand
“Life imitating art”
“I think that would be rather nice” she replied blissfully unaware of the bustle of film goers around them.
But she was very aware of Alex kissing her gently on the lips.
“So it’s Christmas time again” Alex said as he looked out the window.
“As if anyone could fail to notice” James added as he and Jenny joined him at the drawing room window.
Even without leaving the house they could see more than half a dozen houses decorated to the hilt.
Every coloured light imaginable, Santa's on the roof or climbing a ladder, sleighs, elves, snowmen, bells, stars, baubles and last but by no means least standing almost four feet high that perennial favourite Winnie the Pooh.
Alex was taken aback, what the hell did Pooh have to do with Christmas? And later as he and his siblings walked down to the seafront he noticed that every other house seemed to have one, there was even one on the pier so he guessed there must be something in it.
He didn't recall mention of him in the bible and in all of the many nativity plays he had seen over the years Winnie the Pooh was conspicuous by his absence and although there is a donkey in the story it wasn’t Eeyore.
The stable did not house Piglet and the wise men did not travel from the east with Tigger bearing gifts of Huney.
Nor in any of the Christmas traditions around the world is there a single reference to Pooh as one of Santa's helpers, there was Black Peter, and the Jolly Elf, there was even the devil figure Krampus, but no Pooh, but it appeared to him, that the people of Sharpington were giving him pride of place on their lawns that Christmas.
As they turned left onto the promenade the early winter sun broke through the mackerel skies exposing patches of the bluest sky and if he had had any remaining doubts that Christmas was coming to Sharpington they were soon dispelled as the promenade was decked in its Christmas garb.
Inflatable Santa’s climb the walls of the Fun Park and the pier was draped in LED icicles.
Then when they passed the Seaview Hotel they saw what looked like a cheery red-suited burglar hanging from one of the balconies and they all laughed before they went their separate ways.
Alex was the only one of the three who had lived his whole life in Sharpington, having married a local girl with whom he Managed the Palladium Ballroom and raised two children and with both children married and settled he and Natalie looked forward to their retirement together but it wasn’t to be, as she had a massive heart attack only two months before their leisurely life was to begin.
He considered himself very lucky that he had his siblings to support him in his hour of need and they had helped him when he didn’t want to leave the house, when he couldn’t see a future, when he couldn’t function.
But two years later he went out, in fact he went out often and he began to enjoy life again and part of that enjoyment was being with James and Jenny and another part was Tracy Whitehouse.
He had known Tracy since he was at school but she was Tracy Gurney back then and he had reconnected with her at a bereavement group at the Jubilee Community Centre.
When he parted company with the others he didn’t have any definite plans he just set out to enjoy the respite in the weather.
That was until he caught sight of Tracy going into the café and he decided there was something better to do than enjoy the weather so he went to the café to join her, even if it meant he would have to have breakfast number two of the day.
It was busy in the café with lots of chatter and he hears Tracy order a bacon sandwich and a coffee above the hubbub, so he ordered the same and walked over to her table and said
“Do you mind if I join you”
“Oh yes that would be lovely” she said when she turned around for the first time.
“So what are you up to today?” he asked
“Nothing much” she replied “I’m just enjoying the winter sunshine before the rain rolls in again this afternoon”
“So what about when the rain does come back?” Alex asked
“Back home I suppose” she said “What about you?”
“Well there showing “Shop Around The Corner” at the Tivoli” he said
“Oooh I love James Stewart” Tracy said
“Why don’t you join me then” he suggested
“I’d love to” she replied and smiled
So they finished their breakfast and then they stepped outside and went for a walk in the sunshine, firstly on the beach and then as the clouds began to gather they walked along the pier because there were plenty of places to shelter should the rain arrive early.
As it turned out the rain held off but the temperature dipped so they spent a lot of time out of the wind keeping warm and they lost track of time and had to forgo lunch or miss the start of the film so they pigged out on popcorn instead while they watched the classic film.
By the time they left the theatre the expected rain had turned to snow and there was quite a lot of it.
“Oh dear I wasn’t expecting this” she said
“It’s just like the film” Alex said
“It is rather” she agreed
“Although Sharpington isn’t quite historic Budapest”
“No that’s true but it has its pluses” he said looking at her, and made her blush
“And in the film the girl got her man” she said coyly
“Well I’m game if you are” he said and took hold of her hand
“Life imitating art”
“I think that would be rather nice” she replied blissfully unaware of the bustle of film goers around them.
But she was very aware of Alex kissing her gently on the lips.
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (97) At the Christmas Market
Memories of William Horton’s childhood flashed through his mind as he approached the Christmas Market in Shallowfield.
Although the memory that filled his head was a distant one, in more ways than one, as it happened many years earlier when his father was an Army Colonel stationed in Berlin.
Their Nanny Gisela took them to the Spandau Christmas market and she indulged them with food and drink, he could almost taste the spicy sausages, fried onion and tangy mustard, the recollection was so vivid.
He knew that the Shallowfield Market was a pale imitation of its German counterpart but he wasn’t there for Gluwein or spiced sausage nor was he looking for marzipan novelties or tawdry decorations.
His interest was in the centre piece of the market, the Christmas Tree, a mighty thirty foot evergreen dressed to honour the season and when he got his first sight of it, it made him sigh.
It was a magical place for him and looking upon it brought him back to the moment he had last seen it a week earlier and he felt the joy of that moment instantly, when he kissed Georgia for the first time in the glow of the trees lights.
But that kiss had not been repeated since because he was a soldier of the Downshire Light Infantry like his father before him, and he had been away with the regiment, but a promise was made to meet again, a promise he hoped they would both be keeping.
He stood by the tree and scanned the faces in the crowd looking for a tall willowy red head, but after ten minutes he began to think she was going to let him down.
But then he felt a tug at his elbow and when he turned around Georgia was smiling at him.
“Hi” she said
“You came” William said
“Of course” Georgia retorted and kissed him as the Snow fell softly and the lights of the tree twinkled and their hearts became entwined.
Although the memory that filled his head was a distant one, in more ways than one, as it happened many years earlier when his father was an Army Colonel stationed in Berlin.
Their Nanny Gisela took them to the Spandau Christmas market and she indulged them with food and drink, he could almost taste the spicy sausages, fried onion and tangy mustard, the recollection was so vivid.
He knew that the Shallowfield Market was a pale imitation of its German counterpart but he wasn’t there for Gluwein or spiced sausage nor was he looking for marzipan novelties or tawdry decorations.
His interest was in the centre piece of the market, the Christmas Tree, a mighty thirty foot evergreen dressed to honour the season and when he got his first sight of it, it made him sigh.
It was a magical place for him and looking upon it brought him back to the moment he had last seen it a week earlier and he felt the joy of that moment instantly, when he kissed Georgia for the first time in the glow of the trees lights.
But that kiss had not been repeated since because he was a soldier of the Downshire Light Infantry like his father before him, and he had been away with the regiment, but a promise was made to meet again, a promise he hoped they would both be keeping.
He stood by the tree and scanned the faces in the crowd looking for a tall willowy red head, but after ten minutes he began to think she was going to let him down.
But then he felt a tug at his elbow and when he turned around Georgia was smiling at him.
“Hi” she said
“You came” William said
“Of course” Georgia retorted and kissed him as the Snow fell softly and the lights of the tree twinkled and their hearts became entwined.
Friday 30 June 2017
Downshire Diary – (96) Tears fall like Snowflakes
It was early morning on Christmas Eve in Abbottsford and just as dawn was breaking snowflakes started to softly fall.
Downshire’s metropolis was a noisy city, all hustle and bustle, where at Christmas it always tended to rain.
But as the city came alive the snow fell thicker and faster, and a quiet hush descended as the large white snowflakes fell.
As the winter continued to make its presence felt the holiday rush seemed to slow down and shoppers took a pause to appreciate the beauty of winter’s gifts.
In the warmth of her flat, Arabella looked out as the snow dressed the town in its winter gown.
She looked upon it with joy initially but the joy subsided as tears started to flow from deep within as she remembered the white Christmas’ of her childhood when she lived in Tipton, where her family still lived in the north of the county.
The tears born of loneliness filled her eyes because she would be spending Christmas alone and lonely.
An ache swelled inside her chest and its pains are radiating, a choked cry, that won't pass her lips, filled her throat as the touch of sadness showed on her wrinkled face.
Arabella was a nurse at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was working over Christmas so she would not be seeing her family and as if that wasn’t bad enough her boyfriend Frank left Abbottsford that morning to spend Christmas Day and Boxing Day with his parents in Sharpington.
So that was why she was feeling so blue, so lonely and isolated, as she was stuck inside her lonely flat for Christmas Eve.
Her only company was her cat Oscar and she cuddled him for comfort but felt no peace and was resigned to the fact that it wouldn’t come that day.
As the snow continued to fall the purring of Oscar had been replaced by the computers comforting hum yet that too turned out to be an empty comfort.
She was alone with her thoughts all day and found then uncomfortable companions and lamented the passing of the days of Christmas carolling, present wrapping, sending and receiving cards, and enjoying the season with friends.
She stared out the window watching the flakes of snow fall and said a silent prayer to help her survive the joyless day and for someone to give her a much needed lift and make her smile.
Then the tears flowed again as the feelings of worthlessness came again and she felt so very blue.
As she looked out the window she found herself thinking that somewhere out there, there were other lonely people feeling as she did, and some who needed company far more than her, just some human contact.
It was a basic need to be wanted, for some loving care, a smile, a hug or just a card, especially during the joyful season.
And just then the phone rang and when she looked at the caller ID a smile spread across her face.
“Hi mum, it’s so nice to hear your voice”
Talking to her Mum for over an hour cheered her up and got her into a better frame of mind to face the next four hours before she left for work.
Her mum was wonderful, she always helped get her head straight, and she couldn’t wait to see her at New Year’s.
She got herself showered and dressed in her uniform and was just preparing to leave for work, she was going to leave half an hour earlier than normal because of the snow and she was just getting her shoes on when there was a knock at the door and she tutted because whoever it was going to make her late.
But when she opened the door she couldn’t believe her eyes
“You’re here” she said “Why are you here?”
But her visitor couldn’t reply because she was kissing him.
“So why are you here?” she asked when she got Frank inside her flat.
“They closed the Pepperstock Express Way because of the snow” He replied “So I’m spending Christmas with you”
“Why didn’t you call me?” she asked and kissed him again
“My phone died” Frank said “So I couldn’t even call to say I missed you and I love you”
Downshire’s metropolis was a noisy city, all hustle and bustle, where at Christmas it always tended to rain.
But as the city came alive the snow fell thicker and faster, and a quiet hush descended as the large white snowflakes fell.
As the winter continued to make its presence felt the holiday rush seemed to slow down and shoppers took a pause to appreciate the beauty of winter’s gifts.
In the warmth of her flat, Arabella looked out as the snow dressed the town in its winter gown.
She looked upon it with joy initially but the joy subsided as tears started to flow from deep within as she remembered the white Christmas’ of her childhood when she lived in Tipton, where her family still lived in the north of the county.
The tears born of loneliness filled her eyes because she would be spending Christmas alone and lonely.
An ache swelled inside her chest and its pains are radiating, a choked cry, that won't pass her lips, filled her throat as the touch of sadness showed on her wrinkled face.
Arabella was a nurse at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was working over Christmas so she would not be seeing her family and as if that wasn’t bad enough her boyfriend Frank left Abbottsford that morning to spend Christmas Day and Boxing Day with his parents in Sharpington.
So that was why she was feeling so blue, so lonely and isolated, as she was stuck inside her lonely flat for Christmas Eve.
Her only company was her cat Oscar and she cuddled him for comfort but felt no peace and was resigned to the fact that it wouldn’t come that day.
As the snow continued to fall the purring of Oscar had been replaced by the computers comforting hum yet that too turned out to be an empty comfort.
She was alone with her thoughts all day and found then uncomfortable companions and lamented the passing of the days of Christmas carolling, present wrapping, sending and receiving cards, and enjoying the season with friends.
She stared out the window watching the flakes of snow fall and said a silent prayer to help her survive the joyless day and for someone to give her a much needed lift and make her smile.
Then the tears flowed again as the feelings of worthlessness came again and she felt so very blue.
As she looked out the window she found herself thinking that somewhere out there, there were other lonely people feeling as she did, and some who needed company far more than her, just some human contact.
It was a basic need to be wanted, for some loving care, a smile, a hug or just a card, especially during the joyful season.
And just then the phone rang and when she looked at the caller ID a smile spread across her face.
“Hi mum, it’s so nice to hear your voice”
Talking to her Mum for over an hour cheered her up and got her into a better frame of mind to face the next four hours before she left for work.
Her mum was wonderful, she always helped get her head straight, and she couldn’t wait to see her at New Year’s.
She got herself showered and dressed in her uniform and was just preparing to leave for work, she was going to leave half an hour earlier than normal because of the snow and she was just getting her shoes on when there was a knock at the door and she tutted because whoever it was going to make her late.
But when she opened the door she couldn’t believe her eyes
“You’re here” she said “Why are you here?”
But her visitor couldn’t reply because she was kissing him.
“So why are you here?” she asked when she got Frank inside her flat.
“They closed the Pepperstock Express Way because of the snow” He replied “So I’m spending Christmas with you”
“Why didn’t you call me?” she asked and kissed him again
“My phone died” Frank said “So I couldn’t even call to say I missed you and I love you”
Mornington-By-Mere – (96) Christmas at Briarbank
(Part 01)
Thirty Five year old Ross Clarke lives in the village of Mornington-By-Mere, which 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 is not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it is 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 form the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside where Ross lived in a small two bedroom cottage in the row of West Gate Cottages on the banks of the River Brooke and he lived there with his grandfather.
Ross Clarke loved Christmas and it really irritated him when he heard people whining about what a crap Christmas they had because their mother in law over did it on the sherry and told everyone what she really thought about them or when their wife's uncle Stan spent Christmas afternoon asleep on the sofa breaking wind with monotonous regularity.
Or their brothers new girlfriend who kept hitting on her sister in law or the Gran who said
"Just a small dinner for me, I don't have much of an appetite" then spent the afternoon eating all the chocolate Brazils.
It really made him angry because their bitching and moaning always brought him down at his favourite time of year.
It also wound him up when he thought about those who through no fault of their own had truly awful Christmas’s, like his Grandfather who was one of the half a million or so men of the allied forces, who along with six hundred thousand Germans who spent Christmas 1944 outside in the snow of the Ardennes forest during the battle of the bulge.
Men who sheltered in foxholes, scratched out of the frozen earth with no hot food or drink.
Unable to light fires for fear of giving their position away to the enemy and regularly coming under enemy fire or being shelled.
And sometimes once they had hewn out a decent sized foxhole and settled down into it out of the icy wind, an order would come down the line to move out and they would move a hundred yards or sometimes less and dig another hole.
He wanted to tell all the whiners to go and bitch and moan to one of those old soldiers and see how they would laugh at their petty gripes, they certainly wouldn’t get any sympathy.
He had spent a of time with his grandfather since his teens but for the last three years that time was spent at the Briarbank Hospice and they spent that time talking at length.
But for the last three months the conversations had been very one sided.
But there had been another reason for his visits other than seeing his grandfather, and that reason was Linda Perch, a thirty four year old palliative care nurse.
(Part 02)
It was 9 o’clock on Christmas Eve when he arrived at the hospice and his spirits lifted when he saw Linda was on duty and when she saw him she smiled.
“Did you draw the short straw?” he asked
“Worse than that I volunteered” she retorted
Because she had no family she was working all over Christmas to allow the nurses who did have families to spend it at home with them she was doing the same thing over New Years as well.
“So are you on tomorrow as well?” he asked
“Yes I’m on until Boxing Day”
“That’s tough” he said and she told him that she would survive and then they parted company with a smile.
They knew they would have plenty of opportunities to talk during the night and he wished her happy Christmas at 1.45am.
He managed to see quite a lot of Linda during Christmas Day as he had decided not to go home at all and managed to catch a few zzzz’s in the arm chair beside his grandads bed, but he managed to be awake and alert when she was around and he found that his feeling for her were deepening and he hoped that when she smiled at him it wasn’t just her professional demeanour.
But she went off duty at two am on Boxing Day which was when he decided it was time to go home to his bed.
He returned to the hospice on Boxing Day evening and was pleased to see Linda’s car was in the carpark, he didn’t think she would be back in until the next day, but when he went inside instead of being greeted by her normal friendly smile, he found her wearing a grave expression.
“Hello Ross I was just about to call you” she said
“I’m a bit concerned about Harry, his breathing is very laboured”
“Damn I shouldn’t have gone home” he said
“Nonsense” she chastised “it would have made no difference”
Then she gave him a warm smile and added
“I’ve phoned Dr Lutchford, so go and sit with him and I’ll be in shortly”
“Ok” he complied but what she hadn’t confided was that she thought the end was close.
The Doctor arrived about half an hour later and Linda accompanied Ross to the relative’s room and squeezed his hand before she joined the doctor.
Fifteen minutes later she and the Doctor joined him and Claire Lutchford sympathetically said
“I’m afraid he has pneumonia”
“Does that signal the end” he asked knowing that it did but wanted confirmation,
“I’m afraid so” Dr Lutchford confirmed
“How long?” he asked flatly
“Not long” she replied
“Don’t worry” Linda said putting her hand on his “I will stay with him till the end”
Although she wasn’t officially on duty that night she stayed with Harry and Ross.
The following day Linda split her time between attending to Harry and keeping Ross company and they spent a weary night and Harry Clarke died just after seven o’clock the next morning with the winter sun invading the room and bathing his deathbed in sunlight.
Linda was patient and considerate and waited with Ross, who was quiet and showed no emotion as they finally left the room
(Part 03)
Ross spent the morning in the relative’s room while Linda made all the necessary phone calls.
Sgt Pierce, the village policeman paid a visit to rule out foul play and stayed until Dr Lutchford arrived to sign the death certificate.
And an hour later William Hemmings and Sons arrived to collect the deceased, although it was Melanie Hemmings who offered their condolences.
Ross was looking out of the window as the Hemmings vehicle drove away and Linda walked up behind him and lightly stroked the back of his arm.
“Are you ok?” she asked
“Not really” he replied and the tears he had been holding back immediately welled up in his eyes as he turned towards her, so she took him in her arms and he dissolved completely into tears.
“Its ok honey” she whispered, “let it all go”
And as he sobbed uncontrollably onto her shoulder, Linda kissed his cheek.
She held him close and stroked his back as he sobbed until he lifted his head and said
“I’m getting you uniform wet”
“I don’t care” she replied and he broke down again.
It dawned on her at that moment as he sobbed his heart out that now his grandfather was gone he would have no reason to go to the hospice and so she wouldn’t see him again, and that was what she was thinking as she consoled him with her empty words.
Shameful selfish thoughts of her never seeing him again as she held him in her arms instead of thinking of him and his loss.
They were both excruciatingly tired because it had been a very long night sitting up with Harry, however she had had a lot of time to think as his life ebbed away.
And almost all of those thoughts had been about Ross and the reason, they got on really well and whenever he was there the two of them flirted, but at first she never thought it was anything other than flirting, but she would always look forward to seeing him and hoped that it might be.
But everything came into sharp focus now that she was faced with the prospect of never seeing him again.
And now she had him in her arms she was not of a mind to let him go.
But let him go she must, because now was not the time for her to claim him, but it wasn’t going to be for long she hoped.
Had Ross known the disposition of her heart when she comforted him in the relatives room he would not have carried an emptiness inside him when he left the hospice.
In the days that followed his grandfather’s death he had to contend with the double loss of his grandfather’s death and his heart’s desire.
But then on New Year’s Eve he received a fillip when he took a phone call from Briarbank Hospice.
It was a gloriously sunny day in Mornington as he stared out of the window of his cottage, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Linda approaching with Harry’s personal possessions, as the winter sun set her red mane ablaze.
And he pledged to himself that once she crossed his threshold he wouldn’t let her leave again until he had told her of his feelings.
The promise would have given him less anxiety had he known that she had made a similar pledge and after she crossed the threshold pledges were kept and declarations were made and so Linda didn’t re-cross it until again until New Year’s Day.
Thirty Five year old Ross Clarke lives in the village of Mornington-By-Mere, which 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 is not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it is 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 form the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside where Ross lived in a small two bedroom cottage in the row of West Gate Cottages on the banks of the River Brooke and he lived there with his grandfather.
Ross Clarke loved Christmas and it really irritated him when he heard people whining about what a crap Christmas they had because their mother in law over did it on the sherry and told everyone what she really thought about them or when their wife's uncle Stan spent Christmas afternoon asleep on the sofa breaking wind with monotonous regularity.
Or their brothers new girlfriend who kept hitting on her sister in law or the Gran who said
"Just a small dinner for me, I don't have much of an appetite" then spent the afternoon eating all the chocolate Brazils.
It really made him angry because their bitching and moaning always brought him down at his favourite time of year.
It also wound him up when he thought about those who through no fault of their own had truly awful Christmas’s, like his Grandfather who was one of the half a million or so men of the allied forces, who along with six hundred thousand Germans who spent Christmas 1944 outside in the snow of the Ardennes forest during the battle of the bulge.
Men who sheltered in foxholes, scratched out of the frozen earth with no hot food or drink.
Unable to light fires for fear of giving their position away to the enemy and regularly coming under enemy fire or being shelled.
And sometimes once they had hewn out a decent sized foxhole and settled down into it out of the icy wind, an order would come down the line to move out and they would move a hundred yards or sometimes less and dig another hole.
He wanted to tell all the whiners to go and bitch and moan to one of those old soldiers and see how they would laugh at their petty gripes, they certainly wouldn’t get any sympathy.
He had spent a of time with his grandfather since his teens but for the last three years that time was spent at the Briarbank Hospice and they spent that time talking at length.
But for the last three months the conversations had been very one sided.
But there had been another reason for his visits other than seeing his grandfather, and that reason was Linda Perch, a thirty four year old palliative care nurse.
(Part 02)
It was 9 o’clock on Christmas Eve when he arrived at the hospice and his spirits lifted when he saw Linda was on duty and when she saw him she smiled.
“Did you draw the short straw?” he asked
“Worse than that I volunteered” she retorted
Because she had no family she was working all over Christmas to allow the nurses who did have families to spend it at home with them she was doing the same thing over New Years as well.
“So are you on tomorrow as well?” he asked
“Yes I’m on until Boxing Day”
“That’s tough” he said and she told him that she would survive and then they parted company with a smile.
They knew they would have plenty of opportunities to talk during the night and he wished her happy Christmas at 1.45am.
He managed to see quite a lot of Linda during Christmas Day as he had decided not to go home at all and managed to catch a few zzzz’s in the arm chair beside his grandads bed, but he managed to be awake and alert when she was around and he found that his feeling for her were deepening and he hoped that when she smiled at him it wasn’t just her professional demeanour.
But she went off duty at two am on Boxing Day which was when he decided it was time to go home to his bed.
He returned to the hospice on Boxing Day evening and was pleased to see Linda’s car was in the carpark, he didn’t think she would be back in until the next day, but when he went inside instead of being greeted by her normal friendly smile, he found her wearing a grave expression.
“Hello Ross I was just about to call you” she said
“I’m a bit concerned about Harry, his breathing is very laboured”
“Damn I shouldn’t have gone home” he said
“Nonsense” she chastised “it would have made no difference”
Then she gave him a warm smile and added
“I’ve phoned Dr Lutchford, so go and sit with him and I’ll be in shortly”
“Ok” he complied but what she hadn’t confided was that she thought the end was close.
The Doctor arrived about half an hour later and Linda accompanied Ross to the relative’s room and squeezed his hand before she joined the doctor.
Fifteen minutes later she and the Doctor joined him and Claire Lutchford sympathetically said
“I’m afraid he has pneumonia”
“Does that signal the end” he asked knowing that it did but wanted confirmation,
“I’m afraid so” Dr Lutchford confirmed
“How long?” he asked flatly
“Not long” she replied
“Don’t worry” Linda said putting her hand on his “I will stay with him till the end”
Although she wasn’t officially on duty that night she stayed with Harry and Ross.
The following day Linda split her time between attending to Harry and keeping Ross company and they spent a weary night and Harry Clarke died just after seven o’clock the next morning with the winter sun invading the room and bathing his deathbed in sunlight.
Linda was patient and considerate and waited with Ross, who was quiet and showed no emotion as they finally left the room
(Part 03)
Ross spent the morning in the relative’s room while Linda made all the necessary phone calls.
Sgt Pierce, the village policeman paid a visit to rule out foul play and stayed until Dr Lutchford arrived to sign the death certificate.
And an hour later William Hemmings and Sons arrived to collect the deceased, although it was Melanie Hemmings who offered their condolences.
Ross was looking out of the window as the Hemmings vehicle drove away and Linda walked up behind him and lightly stroked the back of his arm.
“Are you ok?” she asked
“Not really” he replied and the tears he had been holding back immediately welled up in his eyes as he turned towards her, so she took him in her arms and he dissolved completely into tears.
“Its ok honey” she whispered, “let it all go”
And as he sobbed uncontrollably onto her shoulder, Linda kissed his cheek.
She held him close and stroked his back as he sobbed until he lifted his head and said
“I’m getting you uniform wet”
“I don’t care” she replied and he broke down again.
It dawned on her at that moment as he sobbed his heart out that now his grandfather was gone he would have no reason to go to the hospice and so she wouldn’t see him again, and that was what she was thinking as she consoled him with her empty words.
Shameful selfish thoughts of her never seeing him again as she held him in her arms instead of thinking of him and his loss.
They were both excruciatingly tired because it had been a very long night sitting up with Harry, however she had had a lot of time to think as his life ebbed away.
And almost all of those thoughts had been about Ross and the reason, they got on really well and whenever he was there the two of them flirted, but at first she never thought it was anything other than flirting, but she would always look forward to seeing him and hoped that it might be.
But everything came into sharp focus now that she was faced with the prospect of never seeing him again.
And now she had him in her arms she was not of a mind to let him go.
But let him go she must, because now was not the time for her to claim him, but it wasn’t going to be for long she hoped.
Had Ross known the disposition of her heart when she comforted him in the relatives room he would not have carried an emptiness inside him when he left the hospice.
In the days that followed his grandfather’s death he had to contend with the double loss of his grandfather’s death and his heart’s desire.
But then on New Year’s Eve he received a fillip when he took a phone call from Briarbank Hospice.
It was a gloriously sunny day in Mornington as he stared out of the window of his cottage, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Linda approaching with Harry’s personal possessions, as the winter sun set her red mane ablaze.
And he pledged to himself that once she crossed his threshold he wouldn’t let her leave again until he had told her of his feelings.
The promise would have given him less anxiety had he known that she had made a similar pledge and after she crossed the threshold pledges were kept and declarations were made and so Linda didn’t re-cross it until again until New Year’s Day.
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