A Fateful Outcome

They had been together for a long time but Josh and Sophie had recently split and the only people who were at all surprised by it was them.

There were never two more incompatible souls to share a life than they.

In fact they had spent much of the previous two years constantly bickering and arguing.

The problem was that Josh was too laid back and easy going for Sophie who was very pushy and way too ambitious.

Josh didn’t want to climb the greasy pole and Sophie didn’t want to settle for less than the best.

 

Kay had been in love with Josh since school, she was in the year below, but she could never seem to catch his eye.

So he ended up with Sophie and Kay married Colin who turned out to be the most boring man in Britain so she divorced him after a year.

She had been pretty much on her own since, not that she hadn’t tried to find someone else.

She had but the problem was they never had Joshua’s smile, his sense of humour or indeed his cute arse.

So she had finally resolved that if she could not have Joshua she would end her days a spinster.

 

That was until one day when fate took a hand.

Joshua and Sophie’s divorce was final and part of the divorce agreement was that they should sell the house that was once the marital home.

Of the two of them it was Joshua who was tasked with selling it.

So it was on a sunny spring morning Joshua walked into an Estate Agents where the senior partner was Kay.   

Downshire Diary – (99) The Tomboy Chorister

 

Danny was going to a Christmas Concert at Abbottsford Cathedral which was well attended as usual and when he when inside he saw the wonder of a manger scene, it looked so very life like and real, and there was a good reason for that, because it was.
In fact it was a wonderful scene and captured the mood perfectly as “Ave Maria” played softly in the background.

Part of the wonder of the stable of Bethlehem were the live animals, who seemed perfectly at peace away from his Uncle Jacks farm

Then he saw his younger brother dressed as Joseph, and his sister as the Virgin Mary, not exactly type casting he thought to himself rather uncharitably.

There were also three of his cousins playing shepherds, two Uncles and a maiden Aunt representing the Magi and his father was the angel Gabriel.

In fact the only one of the tableaux that was not a living member of the family was the Christ child which was actually one of those robotic dolls that pregnant women, with more money than sense get to practice motherhood on, supplied by one such woman, Aunty Evelyn.
His mother would also have been in it but for the fact that she was the Vicar and was part of the clergy taking the service. 

Whereas his contribution to proceedings was as soloist in the choir in which he was performing “o holy night”.

He waved to his many kith and kin as he walked towards the vestry and as he did so his mind was preoccupied with two things, the first was a wish, to give a faultless performance in front of such a large congregation and the second was his hope of getting Heather Jones under the mistletoe at the party afterwards.

 

Heather was two years younger than him and was new to the choir and he was besotted with her, and had been from the first moment he saw her.

She was a bit of a tomboy but he quite liked that she wasn’t a girlie girl and didn’t present with all the girly paraphernalia.

Such as the fact that she never carried a hand bag, instead she had a back pack with her at all times, she also wasn’t fashion conscious, which was another plus for him, she always wore a loose fitting black dress, black tights and coloured baseball shoes and wore her long Brunette hair in plaits.

He really liked everything about Heather, her prominent chin which she thrust out proudly, her green thoughtful eyes behind thick framed specs and her broad smile that made her nose wrinkle.

In short he thought she was perfect, he just needed to work up the courage to ask her out, which is where he hoped the mistletoe would come to his aid.

 

So after the service the clergy, verger, altar boys and choir members all made their way at some point to the vestry to change into their street clothes, he made sure he stayed close to Heather as he still held out a hope that he might suddenly grow a back bone and ask her out.

 

He kept her in view at all times while he spoke with various members of his family, who were congratulating him on his solo performance, until most of the people who had gone in the vestry had come out when Heather looked over to where he was standing and went into the vestry herself, so he followed and as he went inside, the Verger went out leaving just him and Heather who was just hanging her surplice in the cupboard.

“Hello” he said nervously

“Hi Danny” she retorted as she slipped off her shoes and replaced them with her baseball shoes “great solo”

“Thanks” he said and started to panic as he couldn’t think of anything else to say, because as he watched her change her footwear his mind went blank, until he caught sight of the Christmas lights through the vestry window and he asked.

“Are you looking forward to the party?”

“I was” she replied

“Why aren’t you now?”

“Because I’m not going” Heather replied and he sat down heavily on a chair as his heart sank and she smiled when she saw his reaction then she said

“My mums ill”

“Oh I’m sorry” he said sympathetically and bent down to tie his shoe lace and when he sat up again Heather was holding a sprig of mistletoe above his head.

“I was going to use this at the party” she said and leant forward and kissed him, but not just a peck, it was a proper kiss, his first proper kiss, and it was everything he’d hoped it would be and more.

“Wow that’s good mistletoe” she said

“Definitely” he agreed and then added

“I’ve got some mistletoe for the party as well”

“That’s good to know” Heather said as she slipped her coat on

“So I think we should check if it’s as good as yours” he asked

“Fab idea” she grinned and they kissed again.

Downshire Diary – (98) Snowstorm in Springwater

 

Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north but our story begins further south at the most southerly fringe of the Pepperstock Hills National Park.

The Park 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.

It 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 rivalled only by the ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forest.

 

Cheryl Vermeulen lived in the village of Springwater in the home she had once shared with her ex-husband Bijs and at the age of 29 she was facing her first Christmas on her own for 8 years and she wasn’t looking forward to it.

She wasn’t lonely per se, she had friends aplenty, and she even had a romantic interest or at least she had someone she was interested in romantically she just needed to close the deal, which was proving to be more difficult than she had hoped.

 

Cheryl woke early in the depths of winters to find it was snowing lightly but it was 4am, so she went to the bathroom and then went back to bed.

She awoke for the second time at six o’clock but after looking at the clock she went back to sleep again.

The next time she woke to the sound of machinery, a repetitive whining sound, and when she realized it was not part of her dream, she jumped from her bed and rushed to the window.

Across the cul-de-sac and through the naked black branches of the trees, she could see one of her neighbour's driveways and his son's car stuck in the snow.

Then she glanced to the bedside table and the clock radio which screamed in her face its “eight o'clock!!!”

“You’re kidding me” she snapped “Where did the time go?”

Well, what happened was she kept going back to sleep and at some point she had even switched the alarm off and then made the fatal error of wanting to stay cosy for a few more minutes, but those few more minutes turned into an hour.

As a result she was in a panic, so she threw on anything that would keep her warm and ran wild-eyed down the stairs.

Her first stop was to the coat cupboard where she searched out her wellington boot's, then she turned them upside down and banged them against each other to wake up any sleeping insects and encourage them to vacate the premises, as their cosy abode was about to be invaded by wool clad size three feet.

Once she had her boots on, her coat was next followed by a hat and scarf and finally she put on her thickest gloves.

It took her several attempts to open the door with her thick gloves on and she had to take one off to open the garage door and it seemed that everything was conspiring to frustrate her just when she was in such a hurry.

 

She wriggled her way to the back of the garage in search of the snow shovel, she knew they had one, her ex-husband Bijs had bought one when they first moved to the village but they had never used it, he drove a 4x4 and he drove her to work when there was snow on the ground, and it never lay for long anyway so there was never any need for it.

Once she had the shovel she wriggled back to the door again this time with the shovel above her head.

Shovel in hand she stood on the threshold and looked down the drive at the task ahead.

The small granular flakes were falling fast, and the wind was blowing it in drifts across her drive.

After a few moments she looked beyond her drive and wondered why she was the only one outside when the men of the neighbourhood were normally out flexing their muscles but then she remembered, it was still only 8.15 on Sunday morning, and they were not expected at the church by 9:30 for a preservice choir practise ahead of a full program of church events on the third Sunday of advent.

As she looked from the garage door out to the street, along the 40 foot length drive covered by a foot of virgin snow, Cheryl sighed and asked herself
“Where on earth do I begin?”

In the end she went straight to the middle and began to shovel a narrow path to the street and she initially moved along at a fairly steady pace, but when she had reached the road she stopped and looked at her watch and felt deflated.

She realised she had a choice to make she could either shovel like a mad woman and go to church unkempt and un-showered and dressed like a bag lady or she could make a phone call.

Cheryl went back to the house and picked up her phone and dialled a number

“Hello?” a voice said
“Hello Kay, sorry for calling so early, is Owen there? I can’t get the car out” Cheryl said “I’m never going to make it to church on time”
Owen and Kay were in the choir as well and also lived in Springwater and before she could continue Kay interrupted her and said

“Don't worry Cheryl we’ll pick you up on the way”

“Oh bless you Kay” she said “I’ll be ready”

Owen and Kay came along right on cue and Cheryl made her way through the snow to the car.

It was still snowing as they approached St Bartholomew’s Church when Owen said

“I hope the rest of the choir can make it”

“I just hope there will be someone there to listen” Kay added

“Even if it’s just the three of us and no congregation we can still sing for God” Cheryl said
“Yes we can” they agreed

 

Only three choir members failed to make the rehearsal but they all arrived in time for the performances and despite the weather there were plenty of congregants there to listen.

Once they finished the rehearsal Cheryl used the time before the first service to enjoy a cup of coffee at the church Café, Bart’s, where she spent 20 minutes laughing and chatting with fellow choristers, and among them was Dave Torrison, who was on her romantic radar.

 

The church was full by 10.30 and the choir was well warmed up for their rendition of “Carol of the Bells” and Cheryl was in particularly good voice and nailed all of solos.

The second service was equally well received judging by the emotion filled faces of those who had just been blessed by the music.

After the service was complete, they shared the peace and the congregation had dispersed, some of the choristers went for a late lunch.

One of them was Dave Torrison and after Owen and Kay related the tale about her not being able to get her car out of the garage Dave said

“Well I don’t mind coming round to help”

“Really?” she asked

“Absolutely” Dave said

“Well in that case I’ll make us dinner” Cheryl said

“Great” he said “But I’ll need to go home first and change”

 

Owen and Kay dropped her off in front of her house.

“Have fun” Kay said and winked

As she walked up the little path she’d cleared earlier that morning it already had two inches of fresh snow on it and she looked across at her neighbour’s drives in the failing light and could see that all the men had been out and cleared their driveways and were safely tucked up warm inside.

Cheryl’s first act was to rush inside and change into something that would make the best of what she had and then when she was perfumed and made up she put on her snow shovelling gear on top of her outfit and waited for him.

 

When he arrived, Dave thought she looked rather cute in her wellies, puffer jacket, woolly hat, scarf and gloves, but as the snow shovel stood two foot taller than she did, he suggested she leave the drive to him.

Cheryl didn’t argue because it meant she could make a start on dinner and perfect her appearance.

“I hope this is ok” she said as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She needn’t have worried, after all he thought she was cute in a puffer jacket and wellies he would be putty in her hands when he saw her in a figure hugging wool dress.

Suffice is to say she did make an impression and they both had a great Christmas.

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.

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 Diary – (95) Escape to the Summer Fête

 

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.

 

The first week at Sharpinghead was wet with heavy thundery showers and totally lacking opportunities and when they storms passed it left the Vale hot and humid which was their first bit of luck.

The older generation found it too hot to even move so chose to stay put in Sharpinghead

The rest of the group were split the majority wanted to drive to Sharpington and spend the day on the beach, including Paul’s wife Margaret who was a sun worshiper, Paul had auburn hair and fair skin so wasn’t keen on sunbathing and Liz said

“I think the heat will be too much for me, I think I’ll just stay here”

Liz had been out of sorts all week so no one objected so Paul said

“I thought I might take a drive over to Mornington, I read in the Clarion that the Summer Fête is on at the Manor”

“Boring” Margaret said

“Well you go to Sharpington and I’ll go to the Fête, and if Liz is feeling better in an hour I’ll take her with me” he suggested and everyone made positive noises. 

Which was how Paul and Liz came to be in Mornington-By-Mere in the middle of July on the day of the Summer Fête.

 

As had been the long standing tradition the Fête was held in the Mornington Manor grounds and also in keeping with tradition it was extremely well attended, in fact it was heaving.

They had hoped to find a quiet corner for a bit of a kiss and a cuddle.

In the week before the Fête Liz had been a bit out of sorts which turned to be as a result of her monthly and after the unwelcome visitor had departed she was very needy and tactile.

So when Paul parked the car in Mornington, he had barely applied the handbrake before Liz started nibbling his earlobe.

“I need a kiss and a cuddle” she said in whinny tones

“That’s the reason we’re here,” he said weakly

“But I need a kiss now” she whined as she licked his ear like a Labrador.

“But…” he protested

“Please” she begged

“This isn’t the best place for that” he said as he looked around, but that was the sum total of his resistance as moments later she was sitting on his lap and they were kissing

However it all came to an abrupt end as a rather loud rotund family went past the car and bent one of the mirrors back.

Fortunately they were too busy feeding their faces to notice what was going on in Paul’s car but Liz had been spooked by the chubster’s so she said

“Let’s go then” with a sigh and Paul opened the driver’s door and went around to the passenger side and opened the door and took the hand of his sister in law and said

“Let’s go and find somewhere we can kiss in private”

“Yes please” she pleaded

Unfortunately the Fête was so well attended it was difficult to imagine where he might fulfil her request.

All the stall were swarming with punters and all the tents and marquees were occupied.

So Paul thought they could chance their luck in the Manor itself, after all there were countless rooms in there suitable for a private kiss, even a cupboard would have sufficed.

Unluckily however the house was off limits and there was security on every entrance.

 

It was when they were on the way to check for a back way in to the Manor that Paul spotted the catering van parked about thirty yards from the house.

And as they passed by it he unceremoniously bundled Liz through the side door in amongst the empty wine glass boxes and then Paul climbed in after her and closed the door behind him.

Although taken by surprise it was with an excited giggle that she threw herself into his arms and she finally got her long leisurely snog.

 

“That was so lovely” Liz said as Paul opened the door to check the coast was clear and then reached into the van and grabbed Liz’s hand and pulled her out before she had chance to get her shoes on.

“Come on” he shouted “we need to run”

As she was pulled from the van she glanced towards the house to see one of the security men running towards them shouting.

He had obviously been alerted by Paul getting out of the van.

Hand in hand they ran headlong across the grass towards the hubbub of the Fête, Paul carrying her handbag and Liz holding her shoes and they were laughing all the way and once they were lost in the crowd they relaxed and Paul said

“I’m starving, how about you?”

“Oh yes I’d like a hot dog” she said

 

After eating their lunch they wandered around the attractions for the next couple of hours and enjoyed the other entertainments on offer and then headed back toward the car.

“Let’s go for a walk in the woods” he suggested

“Ok but I’m very hot and tired” Liz said

 “You won’t need to expend any energy for what I have in mind” he replied and held her hand “it’s very cool and secluded in the wood”

“Oh goody more snoggage” she replied with a giggle

Downshire Diary – (94) Christmas in 1962

 

Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north but our story takes place in the southern town off Abbottsford which was the biggest in Downshire, its administrative capital and the seat of the Downshire government.

It was also a place of learning thanks to the Downshire University, a Cathedral City and was home to Abbottsford Town football club.

 

It was a cold and bitter winter in 1962, and one of the hardest Downshire winters in living memory and eighteen year old Luke Osbourne found himself far from home in Abbottsford that Christmas, a trainee in the restaurant at the Regents Hotel, and he was penniless and alone.

He had spent most of his money on presents for his family in Northchapel and the remainder on postage to have them delivered in time for Christmas.

But on the day before Christmas Eve, he got paid and the restaurant manager, Stefanos Calavittis, told him

“Take the rest of the evening off, we are booked solid tomorrow and Christmas Day and we are very busy so there will be no time off for the next two day”

He was a very strict manager but his bark was worse than his bite and he treated all the staff firmly yet fairly.

“So go home and get some rest” He added.

Luke trudged home through the winding streets of the town towards his digs, where he had a room on the top floor of a Victorian terraced house in Castleview Road, but he decided to spend an hour at the Castle Pub.

It was run by Bob Dalimore, ex Abbottsford Town center forward, and he would regularly regale die-hard fans like Luke with stories of his glory days in the black and white quarters, he also overlooked the fact he was under age.  

The Castle soon became his local as it was on his way home and the stocky, bald former football hero always made him and fellow Knights fans welcome.

 

After nursing his pint for an hour he wandered through the deserted winding back streets of the Castle district, slipping and slithering on the icy pavements and his breath rose in dense clouds in the sub-zero temperatures.

But suddenly two menacing figures appeared out of the darkness and he was knocked violently to the floor and after a sustained beating they left him bruised, bloody, cold and wet, minus his watch, his signet ring and his pay packet.

After an indeterminate period of time he struggled to his feet, brushing melted snow from his sodden clothes and groggily set off to complete his journey home.

He could have gone back to the pub where everyone would have rallied round but he was too ashamed.

His head ached from the beating and his hands had lost all sensation but he rubbed them vigorously together to restore circulation regardless.

As he stumbled along he peered through the frosted dimly lit windows and saw families, gaily preparing for the upcoming celebrations and he found himself wondering how things were at home.

He had received a letter from his mother only that morning and though it was intended to cheer him up it had the opposite effect because in truth it held sadness between every line.

“We will miss you, on your first Christmas away from home” she wrote and he missed home even more.

 

Luke ached from the cold and huddled deeper into his duffel coat as a black cab sped by, full of drunken revelers, its windows steamed up.

The Christmas lights twinkled from the windows in Castle View Road, and he looked up to his own darkened window of his tiny attic apartment high above.

“Not far to go now” he said to himself as number 85 Castle View Road was in view.

He struggled up the narrow staircases up to his tiny attic apartment on the fourth floor of the old Victorian building.

Once he got into his room he spread his soaked clothing on the lukewarm radiator and crawled into bed as outside the snow began to fall heavily and little drops of moisture trickled down the frozen windowpane.

 

When he arrived downstairs for breakfast the next morning, his landlady, Mrs. Oliver, took one look at him and ordered him back to bed.

Fortunately he was not the only member of the Regents Hotel staff to have rooms at Mrs. Oliver’s, so they were able to let Mr. Calavittis what had happened to Luke and to testify that he wasn’t malingering.

   

He spent much of the day in his room under the covers until he suddenly heard a chorus of voices as they wafted up on the crisp afternoon air.

So he crawled out of his bed and wrenched the dormer window open and he saw far below in their back garden his next door neighbours children running around and having fun in the snow, his first reaction to the view of the Cooper family enjoying the weather was one of sadness, but he quickly shook off those feelings and leant far out and scooped up handfuls of snow from the slates and the Cooper children shrieked and ran for cover as his snowballs found their mark.

“Merry Christmas Luke” Sally Cooper called up to him and smiled “Come down and join us”

He liked Sally, she was a few months younger than him and he had a crush on her.

“Yes please come” her younger siblings chorused

 

Luke donned his duffel coat and woolen hat and went downstairs and via the back garden of 85 and joined the Coopers and was greeted by a volley of snowballs.

But when Sally saw the cuts and abrasions on his face she was shocked by their severity and called off her siblings attack.

“My goodness” she said “Mrs. O said you were robbed, but I didn’t know they hurt you so badly”

And then to her brother John she said

“Go and get mum”

 

When Mrs. Cooper appeared and saw his injuries she went all mother hen over him

“You poor boy, look what they did to you, you’re spending Christmas with us” she announced “and I want no argument”

“I’m working all day tomorrow” he said meekly

“Well you’re not working tonight” Mrs. Cooper said “so you’re staying for dinner, George has made Punch and we are having roast Goose tonight”

“He’d love to” Sally said “Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes very much, thank you” he said and Sally took his arm

“Come into the warm then” Mrs. Cooper said “it’s getting chilly”

“We don’t just have Punch and Goose this evening” Sally said as they followed the other inside

“What else could there be?” he asked

“Mistletoe” Sally replied and smiled so despite everything it turned out to be a wonderful Christmas in 1962 after all.