Downshire is a relatively
small English county, but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short
but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and
Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills
National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful
Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s
and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry,
Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring, Tipton in the North but
it’s in Nettlefield where our story begins.
“Take
care of her?” Maria Wegener said to him as he opened the driver’s car door.
“Will
do boss” Martin replied giving his passenger a wry smile as he got behind the
wheel.
“I’m
not a child,” Clare shouted petulantly out of the open window “and I don’t need
babysitting”
It
was certainly true to say that Clare Wegener was not a child, far from it.
No
one who ever saw the 25 years old would ever have described her as such,
childish, possibly, immature certainly, but not a child.
After
all Clare stood an inch short of six feet tall which was evidence of adulthood
in itself but if that didn’t convince you then her long legs, voluminous
rolling hips and a 44” bust would.
No,
Clare was not a child, but her mother, as mothers always do, would always see
her thus.
But
Maria Wegener wasn’t merely Clare’s mother she was also her employer.
For
a hundred years Wegener brothers had bought and sold Antiques and collectables,
a business that Maria Logan married into and Clare was born into and the former
was now the head of the family the latter was going on her first solo-buying
trip, a week-long trip.
Even
though technically she wasn’t going solo and it would have been her maiden trip
but for the fact that Martin Bailey was sent with her as a babysitter.
Martin
had been with the Wegener’s since he left school and he was greatly trusted by
Maria and as he was in his early forties and unremarkable looking and was to
all and sundry average in all respects she trusted there would be no shenanigans.
Suffice
is to say Maria trusted her precious daughter was in safe hands with her
faithful retainer Martin Bailey.
They left the shop and headed south through the
Pepperstock Hills National Park which stretched from the bare, and often barren
crags of Oxley Ridge in the North to the dense wooded southern slopes on the
fringe of the Finchbottom Vale, and from Quarry Hill, and the Pits in the West
to Pepperstock Bay in the East.
The park is an area of stark
contrasts and attracted a variety of visitors.
The
quarry hill side of the park to the west, as the name suggests, was heavily
Quarried over several hundred years, though more extensively during the
industrial revolution, the Quarries had been un-worked for over fifty years and
nature had reclaimed them and former pits had become lakes and were very
popular with anglers and the sparse shrubbery and woodland made it popular spot
with courting couples whereas the
northern crags and fells were popular with climbers and more hardy folk.
To the south and east was an
extensive tract of magnificent mixed forestry and was rivaled only by the ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forest, but for Martin
and Clare weren’t really taking it in.
On
the journey from Northern Downshire all the way down through the Pepperstock Hills National Park on their way to Finchbottom,
Clare was still berating Martin on her mother’s distrust of her.
“It’s
not that she doesn’t trust you,” He said for the tenth time.
“She
doesn’t seem to realise that I’m a grown woman,” she continued
“We
are all aware you are a grown woman” Martin said and after pause added
“Well
aware”
Clare
looked at him and raised her eye brows
“So
what have you noticed?” she asked with amusement and
Martin
blushed to his roots under her gaze
“Nnnnothing”
he stammered
“Come
on Martin” she pressed
“Just
that I have noticed that you are no longer a child” he replied
The
rest of the journey passed largely in silence with Clare admiring the
countryside while occasionally sneaking glances at her driver.
Clare
had always been in love with Martin Bailey or at least since she became a
woman, which in her case was at the age of 13.
Which
coincided with Martin having the task of driving her to school adding to his
list of duties.
She
fell instantly and irrevocably in love with him despite the age difference, not
that she did anything about it and he had always behaved like a perfect
gentleman, treated her with respect and spoke to her as an equal, all of which
made her love him even more.
But
she continued to hold a candle for him right up to the moment he let it slip
that he had noticed her, as a grown woman, and was well aware of her being a
grown woman.
She
took that as a sign that her feeling might after all be reciprocated, and that
gave her food for thought as they approached the Finchbottom Vale.
The Vale nestled comfortably
between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock
Hills in the north, and those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as
the rose between two thorns.
The Vale was once a great
wetland that centuries earlier stretched from Mornington in the East to
Childean in the west and from but over the many centuries the vast majority had
been drained for agriculture, a feat achieved largely by the efforts of the
famous Mornington Mills, of which only three had survived to the present day
and even those were no longer functional and were in various states of repair,
the result of the reclamation of the Vale was a large and sparsely populated
area, and it was in that area that they had planned to cover on Clare’s first
buying trip.
But as they drove into Finchbottom antiques
and collectables were the farthest thing from her mind.
When
she first fell for him she was grown up enough to assume it was just a crush
and she would soon grow out of it, but she was wrong, her feelings did change
of that there was no mistake, but they didn’t fade instead they matured as she
did.
On
the first night of Clare’s maiden buying trip they stopped at the White Horse
Inn in Finchbottom and spent the evening in the restaurant where Clare
proceeded to drink more than was good for her.
Martin
thought she had been in a really strange mood since the journey down and all
evening she had kept looking at him in a funny way.
But
not only was Clare drinking too much, she was flirting and he had never seen
her do that before, and he couldn’t let it continue.
If
he did, her mother would not consider that “Taking care of her”
“Come
on party girl” he said “bedtime”
“Oh
goody” she said draining her glass
Accompanied
by outrageous flirting and downright suggestive behaviour Martin steered her up
the stairs
“Up
the wooden hill to Bedfordshire” he said and when they reached the top he
headed towards her room at the end of the corridor.
When
they got to her door Clare announced
“Honey!
I’m home”
Martin
propped her against the doorframe as he unlocked the door and she began kissing
his neck.
“Behave
yourself” he said and gave her a playful slap on her bum.
“Oooh
are you going to spank me Martin?” she asked
“Get
in there young lady” he said and guided her through the door
“I
love it when you’re all masterful” Clare responded and wrapped her arms around
his neck and tried to kiss him.
Martin
managed to avoid her lips at the last second as the door slammed shut behind
them and they performed a strange ungracious waltz into the room.
“Here
we are young lady,” he said as he prepared to lower her onto the bed
“Bedfordshire”
Clare said gleefully, and then her head began to spin and she passed out.
Martin
managed to catch her before she hit the floor and laid her gently on the bed
like a precious cargo, which to his mind she was, in he thought her the most
precious thing imaginable.
He
carefully slipped off her shoes and then covered her with blanket and she
murmured
“I
really love you Martin”
“And
I love you too my angel” he replied and pulled up a chair and sat beside her
bed.
His
love for her had not begun when hers had for him, at least not romantic love,
up until she was seventeen his love was a mixture of fraternal and paternal,
but midway through her seventeenth year he fell for her hard and he had never
recovered from that fall.
Which
was why he sat in an uncomfortable armchair at the bedside of the intoxicated
and intoxicating love of his life.
But
as he sat there watching her sleep he reran the moment of her declaration of
love in his mind over and over again and he could scarcely believe it had
happened.
He
had never imagined in his wildest dreams that she would ever say those words,
“I really love you Martin”
Even
if it was because she was drunk that she said them, she had said them.
And
if the next morning she retracted her declaration and laughed it off, the fact
would still remain that she had said it and in his experience thing said while
in your cups were normally truthful, unguarded and indiscreet certainly, but
nonetheless true.
And
if things returned to the way they were for the sake of propriety he would be
content because he knew his love was returned.
The next morning Martin woke
up in the uncomfortable armchair next to Clare’s bed and stretched out his
aching muscles.
He hadn’t slept well, but
that wasn’t altogether the fault of the chair.
It was mainly his racing
thoughts that robbed him of his rest, thoughts of love and hope.
The unexpected development of
a beautiful young woman being in love with him, but then he began to question
the evidence of his own ears.
“I
really love you Martin” suddenly became “I really love you Martin, like a
father, or “I really love you Martin as a friend”
He
got up from his chair and walked across the room and switched on the kettle.
After
making the drinks he put his coffee and her tea down on the bedside table and
returned to the seat of his angst and after another five minutes of reflection
he decided he should say nothing and wait to see what developed he could always
broach the subject in the car if she was not forthcoming.
Before
he had the opportunity to reconsider Clare began to stir.
He
watched as her eyes opened and she tried to get her bearings, why was she in a
strange room? And he saw her face relax as she recalled that she was in a
hotel.
Then
she turned her eyes towards Martin who smiled and said
“Good
morning sunshine”
“Have
you been there all night?” she asked groggily
“Yes”
“Why?”
“Because
I was worried about you” he replied
“Oh”
she said and then looked pensive
“Did
I do or say anything embarrassing last night?”
“Well
I don’t know, how do you define embarrassing?”
“Out
of character stuff” she responded after a moment’s thought
“Well
you got very drunk and passed out, that’s quite embarrassing” he replied
“Is
that all?” she asked hopefully
“You were very flirtatious”
he said
“Who with?” she asked from
behind her hands
“Me mainly”
“What else?” she demanded
“Well you did ask me to spank
you, and you wanted me to be masterful” he said with a smile “Oh and then you
tried to kiss me”
“Oh God what happened?”
“You passed out” he replied
“So that was all?”
“Not quite” he replied
enigmatically and finished his coffee and stood up
“I need to get ready”
“No don’t go yet…” she began
and then lifted her head off the pillow “Ow”
“Oh dear” he said when he
looked at the pain on her face
“Tell me what else I did” she
begged
“I’ll give you a clue” he
offered “it wasn’t what you did so much as what you said”
“What does that even mean?”
she asked and sank down into her pillow
“I’ll see you at breakfast”
Martin said and slipped out of the room
After a quick shower and a
shave Martin and went downstairs for a full English breakfast and was on his
second cup of coffee when Clare put in an appearance, looking very pale and
wearing dark glasses.
“Hello sunshine” he said “do
you want some breakfast?”
“Just coffee”
When the waitress had brought
her coffee Martin asked
“Have you remembered yet?”
“No” she confessed “what it really bad?”
“I’m not telling you” he
retorted
“But why?” she asked “Oh God
it was really bad wasn’t it?”
“Not necessarily” he replied
enigmatically “it depends on your point of view”
“Oh please tell me” she said
pathetically “Put me out of my misery”
“I’m sure it will come back
to you on the journey” he said “Come on time to go”
Once they had checked out
they had plenty of time before their first appointment so they took a leisurely
drive from Finchbottom to Highfinch which Clare spent with her eyes shut
although Martin wasn’t sure if it was because she was suffering or she was
still embarrassed.
After concluding their
business in Highfinch and nearby Kingfisherbridge it was close to lunchtime and
as it was such a lovely day they decided to take their lunch at one of the
local sights before we headed on towards the Dulcets.
They both agreed on
Pepperstock Castle as it was on the way they were headed.
“I haven’t been there for
years” Clare said “not since junior school”
“Nor me” Martin agreed
“Yes but they were still
building it when you were at school”
Clare said and laughed
raucously, a little too raucously as she winced and held her head
“That will teach you” he
said
Pepperstock Castle had once
been an imposing sight up on its hill overlooking the eastern end of the Vale
though now it was just a collection of ruins, which could still be clearly
identified as having once been a Castle, but ruins nonetheless.
While they sat on the huge
stones and finished eating sandwiches Clare once again pressed him for the information
he refused to give her that morning.
“You can tell me now”
“Oh I don’t think so” he
retorted “you need to try and remember it yourself”
“But I can’t” she snapped
“There’s no such word as
cant” he replied “Come on let’s get going”
“I used to like you” she
shouted after him
“Ah now that’s a clue” he
said
“What?” Clare said trotting
after him “what does that mean, what’s a clue?”
After Pepperstock Castle they
took the scenic route through the densely wooden hills that formed the natural border
between the Pepperstock Nation Park and the Finchbottom Vale.
Clare continued to pester him
all the way to their next port of call which was Brocklington and again when
they drove on to the Dulcets which were 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
their destination, Dulcet-on-Willow which was a large sprawling village beside
the gentle shallow River Willow, which ran unhurriedly from the Pepperstock
Hills to the more vibrant River Brooke.
It was an exceptionally
fruitful visit and they had secured some very good items but they spent much
longer in Dulcet-on-Willow than they had planned so they decided to head
towards the Hotel they were booked into and then complete their business in the
Dulcets on the way back.
Their destination after
leaving the Dulcets was the Seaview Hotel in Sharpington where they would be
spending the next two night.
Martin was spread any further
pestering as Clare fell asleep before they even left the village.
Which gave him time to think
about whether or not to tell Clare what she said to him the night before.
Sharpington-by-Sea is a traditional
seaside resort complete with a Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The
Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and
illuminations, all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as
well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.
Which was the first purpose
built amusement park to open in Britain, which had an assortment of rides, like
the Rotor and the Wild Mouse, The Cyclone and the Morehouse Galloper, all very
tame compared to a 21st century roller coaster but was still great
fun.
Martin spent many happy
summer holidays in Sharpington when he was a child when the whole family went
away together.
He loved the town and he
always looked forward to his visits.
He parked on the promenade and
gently woke Clare
“Wake up sleepy head, we’ve
arrived”
“Already?” she asked and
yawned
“Come on get a wriggle on and
I’ll buy you an ice cream” he said, he knew if anything was going to get her
moving it was an ice cream, and he was right because she was out of the car
like a shot.
He managed to park on the
Southern side of the pier about a hundred yards along the promenade.
“I thought we could enjoy the
sights for an hour before we check in, we’re a bit away from the pier but we
can jump on the bus if you want” he suggested
“I think I’d like to walk”
Clare said “I’m in no hurry”
“Nor am I” he said “and it’s
such a beautiful day”
They walked along the
promenade with a gentle breeze blowing off the sea and reminisced about the
times they had been to the seaside when they were little and they both talked
about the places in the town that held special memories for them.
The Ghost Train in the Fun
Park, Sharpington Day Parades, Halloween Fright Nights, Firework displays,
Candy Floss, sand castles, paddling in the sea and of course Bizzoni’s Ice
Cream Parlour on the Pier.
A visit to Bizzoni’s Ice
Cream Parlour was a must, it just wasn’t possible to go to Sharpington and not
sample their homemade ices.
Clare had a rather
extravagant chocabockerglory while Martin went for a more restrained Raspberry
ripple.
When they had eaten their ice
creams they walked along the pier and they talked all the way.
But almost inevitably the
conversation turned to the events of the night before.
“You still don’t remember?”
he asked as they reached the end of the pier
“No” she replied pathetically
“Oh well never mind it’s
clearly not important” he said matter of factly
“It was clearly just the
alcohol talking”
“No, no it is important, you
have to tell me” she said with alarm “I have to know”
“Well I’m not going to tell
you” he said and then halted her protest by adding “But I will try and help you
remember”
“Oh ok” she said barely able
to hide her disappointment
“So what do you remember?”
“I remember a lot of wine”
she said “and I may have flirted a bit”
Martin raised an eyebrow in
response so she added
“Ok I flirted a lot”
“Then
when the wine was almost gone you said “Come on party girl, bedtime” and I said
something but I can’t remember what”
““Oh
goody” was what you said and you drained your glass” he corrected her
“And
then I walked up the stairs” she said
“Well
actually I had to steer you up the stairs accompanied by outrageous flirting
and downright suggestive behaviour” Martin pointed out
“Up
the wooden hill to Bedfordshire” she said “That was what you said”
“That’s
right” he said “is it coming back to you?”
“Yes
and I remember saying “Honey! I’m home” when we reached the door to my room”
“I
had to prop you against the doorframe while I unlocked the door and you began
kissing my neck” he said
“And
you told me to behave and then you smacked my bum” she continued “and I asked
if you were going to spank me”
“And
then what?”
“You
said “Get in there young lady” she said imitating his gruff voice
“I
love it when you’re all masterful” Martin retaliated in a high pitched retort.
“Which
was when you wrapped your arms around my neck and tried to kiss me” Martin
began
“But
you didn’t let me” she said with a furrowed brow “and then it gets a bit hazy”
“Well
I got you into the room and you said “Bedfordshire” and passed out” he said
“then I laid you on the bed, took off your shoes and covered you with a blanket
and you opened your eyes and said….”
Clare was looking at him
intently as he spoke and when he paused her eyes were suddenly wide open
“I said I loved you, oh God I said “I really love you Martin” she said and
blushed
“I’m so sor….” She began but
closed her eyes in concentration and after a few moments she opened her eyes
and looked straight at him
“Wait a minute, there was
more, you said that you loved me too, didn’t you”
“I did” he confirmed
“You
said “And I love you too my angel”” Clare said triumphantly
“I’m your angel?”
“Always” he replied and Clare
kissed him and he kissed her back.
The next morning they woke up
together again only this time Clare wasn’t hungover and Martin hadn’t slept in
an uncomfortable armchair.
They were in each other’s
arms beneath the duvet in Martins bed,
“I’m
not sure if this is what your mum had in mind when she said “Take care of her””
Martin said
“It’s
what I had in mind” she said
