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.
Saturday, 10 June 2017
Friday, 9 June 2017
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.
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”
Thursday, 8 June 2017
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.
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (96) Christmas in the Attic
Christmas was just around the corner for the inhabitants of Highfinch which nestled on the edge of the Pepperstock Hills where the Lily Green Hollows Golf Club separated the village from the Hamlet of Lily Green, which made up the parish of St Martins Church and between Lily Green and the sleepy hamlet of Kingfisherbridge was where Alex Trafford lived and since it was only a few weeks before Christmas, his divorcee sister Kate and his niece India were staying with him, which was how it had been for the previous eight years, ever since her divorce, and he saw no reason to deviate from the norm that year.
Northerly winds shrieked through the trees, carrying winter on its coat tails, as they wrapped themselves around the house and tried to shake it from its foundations with all their spiteful might as the freezing rain and snow they carried streaked down the double glazing, creating eerie shadows on the walls which were at odds with the glow from the hearth.
It was cozy and safe inside the house as he watched the fury of the storm outside until he shivered, so he pulled the curtains together and shut out the stormy vision.
His sister Kate and her daughter India were in the kitchen making Christmas cookies, mince pies, Christmas cake and pastries and the smell of cinnamon, spices and ginger was mouth-watering but he knew from experience that they wouldn’t let him have one, Amy would have done, she always did.
But Amy was gone now, gone forever and he missed her so much, but it was the first Christmas since her death and he didn’t know what to do without her, he didn’t know where he fitted in.
When Amy was alive she steered the ship and he was her first mate, but now he was cut adrift and rudderless.
He sat down in his chair by the fire and looked at the Christmas Tree and winced, trimming the tree was Amy’s forte and what he had done was a pale imitation which was when he decided mainly for want of something to do, to get up and go in search of more decorations.
He opened the hatch and pulled down the ladder and climbed the steps to the loft and sought out the decorations that he hoped would improve the appearance of the tree.
It was a large house and subsequently it had a large loft and after more than twenty years living there the loft was an absolute treasure trove.
He switched on the light and he muttered to himself as the dim light from the LED bulb did little better than a candle like glow which created weird and wonderful, if weak and feeble, shapes all over the loft.
He was of his time and much preferred light bulbs that came on to maximum brightness the moment you flicked the switch.
He knew it would brighten eventually he would just have preferred it to be immediate.
There were huge trunks and boxes full of old clothes and shoes, old books of his fathers and toys from his childhood and so many other memories were stored in the loft.
The winds took on new life up in the roof space, howling like a banshee as granular snow and hailstones beat its staccato rhythm on the roof and the unearthly soundtrack put him in an eerie frame of mind.
He momentarily forgot the reason for his trip to the attic, as he started to ponder what treasures he might rediscover.
Then he remembered why he was there and opened a box but only found some of his sister Kates old dolls.
Then out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure which made him jump but when he looked closer it was just an old dress maker’s dummy.
But he felt himself drawn to that corner of the loft and in particular a large oak chest.
He knelt down in front of it and unbuckled the leather strap and lifted the lid and instantly new what it contained even if he could see inside the plastic cover, it was his wife’s wedding dress, he hadn’t seen it since their wedding day or touched the silk folds and felt their softness against his skin since that wonderful day.
She had packed it lovingly away because she dreamed that one day her daughter would wear it on her wedding day, a common enough dream for a mother.
Sadly they were never blessed with a little girl, not a boy for that matter, it wasn’t to be for them, and it was his one regret, that he was unable to give her a child.
Suddenly he felt compelled to touch the soft cool silk, so he carefully unzipped the bag and tentatively reached for the silk and in the instant his fingers touched the fabric, the dress makers dummy seemed to come to life and he looked up and found himself staring mesmerized at what appeared to be his darling wife Amy as she was on that wonderful day in June all those years ago when they were married at St Martins Church, and he sighed to see her sweet smiling face with sparkling blue eyes.
The tone of the wind seemed to change at that point and it seemed to have been replaced by church bells and wedding music, he knew it wasn’t possible but he couldn’t move and didn’t want to for that matter.
“I miss you so much” he said to the apparition and he felt soft kisses on his neck and he sighed again
Just at that moment he was brought back to the moment by a call from the landing
“Uncle Alex! Lunch is ready”
“Ok I’ll be right down” he said and the blissful moment had gone.
He zipped the garment bag up again, closed the lid of the trunk and re-buckled the strap, then he walked back to the ladder but looked back as he descended and she was there again smiling at him and softly said
“I will be with you always”
“Thank you” he responded and as he continued his descent she added
“And the tree looks fine darling”
Northerly winds shrieked through the trees, carrying winter on its coat tails, as they wrapped themselves around the house and tried to shake it from its foundations with all their spiteful might as the freezing rain and snow they carried streaked down the double glazing, creating eerie shadows on the walls which were at odds with the glow from the hearth.
It was cozy and safe inside the house as he watched the fury of the storm outside until he shivered, so he pulled the curtains together and shut out the stormy vision.
His sister Kate and her daughter India were in the kitchen making Christmas cookies, mince pies, Christmas cake and pastries and the smell of cinnamon, spices and ginger was mouth-watering but he knew from experience that they wouldn’t let him have one, Amy would have done, she always did.
But Amy was gone now, gone forever and he missed her so much, but it was the first Christmas since her death and he didn’t know what to do without her, he didn’t know where he fitted in.
When Amy was alive she steered the ship and he was her first mate, but now he was cut adrift and rudderless.
He sat down in his chair by the fire and looked at the Christmas Tree and winced, trimming the tree was Amy’s forte and what he had done was a pale imitation which was when he decided mainly for want of something to do, to get up and go in search of more decorations.
He opened the hatch and pulled down the ladder and climbed the steps to the loft and sought out the decorations that he hoped would improve the appearance of the tree.
It was a large house and subsequently it had a large loft and after more than twenty years living there the loft was an absolute treasure trove.
He switched on the light and he muttered to himself as the dim light from the LED bulb did little better than a candle like glow which created weird and wonderful, if weak and feeble, shapes all over the loft.
He was of his time and much preferred light bulbs that came on to maximum brightness the moment you flicked the switch.
He knew it would brighten eventually he would just have preferred it to be immediate.
There were huge trunks and boxes full of old clothes and shoes, old books of his fathers and toys from his childhood and so many other memories were stored in the loft.
The winds took on new life up in the roof space, howling like a banshee as granular snow and hailstones beat its staccato rhythm on the roof and the unearthly soundtrack put him in an eerie frame of mind.
He momentarily forgot the reason for his trip to the attic, as he started to ponder what treasures he might rediscover.
Then he remembered why he was there and opened a box but only found some of his sister Kates old dolls.
Then out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure which made him jump but when he looked closer it was just an old dress maker’s dummy.
But he felt himself drawn to that corner of the loft and in particular a large oak chest.
He knelt down in front of it and unbuckled the leather strap and lifted the lid and instantly new what it contained even if he could see inside the plastic cover, it was his wife’s wedding dress, he hadn’t seen it since their wedding day or touched the silk folds and felt their softness against his skin since that wonderful day.
She had packed it lovingly away because she dreamed that one day her daughter would wear it on her wedding day, a common enough dream for a mother.
Sadly they were never blessed with a little girl, not a boy for that matter, it wasn’t to be for them, and it was his one regret, that he was unable to give her a child.
Suddenly he felt compelled to touch the soft cool silk, so he carefully unzipped the bag and tentatively reached for the silk and in the instant his fingers touched the fabric, the dress makers dummy seemed to come to life and he looked up and found himself staring mesmerized at what appeared to be his darling wife Amy as she was on that wonderful day in June all those years ago when they were married at St Martins Church, and he sighed to see her sweet smiling face with sparkling blue eyes.
The tone of the wind seemed to change at that point and it seemed to have been replaced by church bells and wedding music, he knew it wasn’t possible but he couldn’t move and didn’t want to for that matter.
“I miss you so much” he said to the apparition and he felt soft kisses on his neck and he sighed again
Just at that moment he was brought back to the moment by a call from the landing
“Uncle Alex! Lunch is ready”
“Ok I’ll be right down” he said and the blissful moment had gone.
He zipped the garment bag up again, closed the lid of the trunk and re-buckled the strap, then he walked back to the ladder but looked back as he descended and she was there again smiling at him and softly said
“I will be with you always”
“Thank you” he responded and as he continued his descent she added
“And the tree looks fine darling”
Wednesday, 7 June 2017
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (96) Crazy in Love
Shallowfield sat on the southern edge of the Finchbottom Vale and was bordered on the other side by the Dancingdean forest and the town’s fortunes had always relied largely upon forestry and agriculture for its survival.
In the post war years with rationing and a shortage of work a lot of people moved away from the area and it only just survived and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.
Only a few of the houses around the Lake were thriving, a lot of the houses had been rented out and those that hadn’t were in a poor state of repair, some too such an extent they were little more than ruins.
But by the 70s however things were beginning to change, thanks mainly to tourism as a result of an increase in leisure time.
This trend was reflected by the fact that the previously derelict Shallowfield Lodge, which had been inherited by a young couple from Lincolnshire, Rob and Sheryl Brown, was being turned into a Hotel.
From then on Shallowfield went from strength to strength which was echoed by the fortunes of the Claremont Hotel.
It was once the home of a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then, particularly in the years between the wars and had been used for many things over the post war years but it wasn’t until the 60s that it became the Claremont Hotel.
However things had got tough in the Hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Claremont needed to offer something extra to attract the guests which was why Clara Davits was in Shallowfield, because she was an events manager and in December there was an awful lot of scope for such things and Clara was good at her job.
She was also exceptionally hard working, and that December she was working even harder than ever although that was due in no small measure to the fact that she needed distracting.
That was because her husband Owen was a sergeant in the Downshire Light Infantry and was currently on exercises with the regiment firstly in Brunei for jungle operational training and from there to Canada for battle training on the prairies of Alberta.
It was a three month absence which was passing agonizingly slowly for her.
She was able to skype him occasionally and he messaged her when he could but it wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.
However the two back to back deployments meant she wouldn’t see him until the New Year and as that would have been their first Christmas together she had been very down, which is why she threw herself into her work.
Despite that however she was prone to bouts of daydreaming as she unpacked the Christmas table decoration.
She knew she should get busy on the rest of them to meet her target but she was overcome with tiredness so she decided to have a mug of coffee instead to try and wake herself up, so she sat down on one of the sofa’s to drink it and promptly fell asleep instead and had a long luxurious nap.
When she awoke it was two am and the place was in darkness, obviously someone had come along and thought the room was empty and turned out the lights.
She was still feeling tired so she decided to go outside for some fresh air so she donned her coat, hat, scarf and gloves and went outside.
The snow that had fallen on and off all day had petered out and when she looked up at the night sky she could see breaks in the cloud and the multitude of twinkling stars beyond.
Clara looked back at the hotel where her Christmas lights were visible and then up to the stars again and she addressed them curtly
“Yes I know you’re beautiful, but you’re just showing off”
She walked around the grounds for about half an hour through the fresh fallen snow and when she was done she made her way back towards the hotel when her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Even if she had been able to retrieve it from her pocket with her gloved hand she wouldn’t have been able to operate it so she waited until she had tromped back across the terrace to the warmth of the hotel before she removed her glove and checked her phone.
The source of the vibrating was a text message so with her un-gloved finger she selected “unread messages” and her heart skipped a beat when she realised it was from Owen.
The message seemed to take an eternity to open but when it did she couldn’t believe her eyes as she read,
“Just landed in London, exercise cut short, unexpected ten day leave, see you in 36 hours, counting the minutes”
“Me too” she said and hugged the phone before she ran back outside and she began to laugh out loud as she ran around like a child experiencing its first sight of snow culminating in her falling backwards into a virgin bank of snow.
Despite the lateness of the hour she was seen by one of the guests on the second floor.
“Look at that crazy woman, making snow angels at this time of night” he said to his wife who agreed wholeheartedly that she was crazy.
And Clara would not have disagreed, she was crazy, crazy in love, and her love was coming home for Christmas.
In the post war years with rationing and a shortage of work a lot of people moved away from the area and it only just survived and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.
Only a few of the houses around the Lake were thriving, a lot of the houses had been rented out and those that hadn’t were in a poor state of repair, some too such an extent they were little more than ruins.
But by the 70s however things were beginning to change, thanks mainly to tourism as a result of an increase in leisure time.
This trend was reflected by the fact that the previously derelict Shallowfield Lodge, which had been inherited by a young couple from Lincolnshire, Rob and Sheryl Brown, was being turned into a Hotel.
From then on Shallowfield went from strength to strength which was echoed by the fortunes of the Claremont Hotel.
It was once the home of a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then, particularly in the years between the wars and had been used for many things over the post war years but it wasn’t until the 60s that it became the Claremont Hotel.
However things had got tough in the Hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Claremont needed to offer something extra to attract the guests which was why Clara Davits was in Shallowfield, because she was an events manager and in December there was an awful lot of scope for such things and Clara was good at her job.
She was also exceptionally hard working, and that December she was working even harder than ever although that was due in no small measure to the fact that she needed distracting.
That was because her husband Owen was a sergeant in the Downshire Light Infantry and was currently on exercises with the regiment firstly in Brunei for jungle operational training and from there to Canada for battle training on the prairies of Alberta.
It was a three month absence which was passing agonizingly slowly for her.
She was able to skype him occasionally and he messaged her when he could but it wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.
However the two back to back deployments meant she wouldn’t see him until the New Year and as that would have been their first Christmas together she had been very down, which is why she threw herself into her work.
Despite that however she was prone to bouts of daydreaming as she unpacked the Christmas table decoration.
She knew she should get busy on the rest of them to meet her target but she was overcome with tiredness so she decided to have a mug of coffee instead to try and wake herself up, so she sat down on one of the sofa’s to drink it and promptly fell asleep instead and had a long luxurious nap.
When she awoke it was two am and the place was in darkness, obviously someone had come along and thought the room was empty and turned out the lights.
She was still feeling tired so she decided to go outside for some fresh air so she donned her coat, hat, scarf and gloves and went outside.
The snow that had fallen on and off all day had petered out and when she looked up at the night sky she could see breaks in the cloud and the multitude of twinkling stars beyond.
Clara looked back at the hotel where her Christmas lights were visible and then up to the stars again and she addressed them curtly
“Yes I know you’re beautiful, but you’re just showing off”
She walked around the grounds for about half an hour through the fresh fallen snow and when she was done she made her way back towards the hotel when her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Even if she had been able to retrieve it from her pocket with her gloved hand she wouldn’t have been able to operate it so she waited until she had tromped back across the terrace to the warmth of the hotel before she removed her glove and checked her phone.
The source of the vibrating was a text message so with her un-gloved finger she selected “unread messages” and her heart skipped a beat when she realised it was from Owen.
The message seemed to take an eternity to open but when it did she couldn’t believe her eyes as she read,
“Just landed in London, exercise cut short, unexpected ten day leave, see you in 36 hours, counting the minutes”
“Me too” she said and hugged the phone before she ran back outside and she began to laugh out loud as she ran around like a child experiencing its first sight of snow culminating in her falling backwards into a virgin bank of snow.
Despite the lateness of the hour she was seen by one of the guests on the second floor.
“Look at that crazy woman, making snow angels at this time of night” he said to his wife who agreed wholeheartedly that she was crazy.
And Clara would not have disagreed, she was crazy, crazy in love, and her love was coming home for Christmas.
Mornington-By-Mere – (95) The Unexpected Gift
When the Mornington Estate exercised its option to purchase Mornington Field from the MOD it also acquired all the buildings and infrastructure on the airfield itself as well as 29 houses in the village formally used as quarters for military personnel.
The buildings on the airfield itself were converted into commercial premise while the former married quarters were made available to rent and the Vineyard family moved into number 17 Military Row on the 18th of December 2014 but Donna Vineyard was the only one still there five Christmas’ later but she shared the house with her boyfriend David Smith.
They were both hard working 30 years old’s, Donna at the Digitize Image Lab up at Mornington Field and David farmed up at Smithfield’s Farm with his family.
That year it was Donna and David’s turn to play hosts to the parents for Christmas dinner, which Donna achieved with great aplomb.
But after dinner, when the table was cleared away and the dishwasher was loaded, it was time for present giving, and this Donna didn’t take in her stride, and that was because she didn’t really like receiving unknown Christmas Presents.
Donna preferred to either get money or have already selected the gift and instructed the giver, or preferably she would actually buy it herself and then give it to the presenter for them to wrap.
That way she avoided having to employ one of the stock phrases for responding to the Christmas present she would rather not have received.
Her comment’s included,
“Thanks a lot”,
“My word! What a gift”,
“You shouldn't have”
And “Wow”
Or “Well, well, well”
She would have liked to have been facetious but she loved Christmas too much to say something like
“If I had put on 4 stones it would have fitted me perfectly”,
“It's lovely, but I'm worried about the jealousy it may create”,
“Just my luck to get this, on the Christmas I promised to give all my gifts to charity”
Or “Unfortunately, I am about to enter MI5's Witness Protection programme”
So imagine her dismay when her boyfriend of five years presented her with an unexpected gift in front of all the assembled family.
“Oh I’ll open that later” she said “let someone else go next “
But they all insisted she open it and inside she was seething, but externally she had to adopt a calmer stance and David knew precisely what was going on behind the façade and smiled at her discomfiture as he put the gift box in her hand as she sat down on the chair.
It was a box about the size of a bag of sugar and painfully aware that all eyes were on her she pulled the ribbon which undid the bow, then she removed the lid to reveal a smaller similarly wrapped package which she removed and smiled with gritted teeth.
David knew that parcels within parcels were another one of Donna’s pet hates, which is why he did it.
So she again pulled the ribbon which undid the bow, then she removed the lid to reveal another smaller similarly wrapped package.
This was repeated twice more before she held a small bundle wrapped in tissue which, urged on by the spectators, she began to unwrap, and the only audible sound was that of Donnas teeth grinding.
But finally the last layer had been conquered and everyone expected one of her stock response’s but instead there was just silence, even the grinding of teeth had desisted because her mouth was open as she stared at the item at the centre of the unfolded tissue paper, which was a platinum set solitaire diamond engagement ring.
No one else in the room could see it so they weren’t entirely sure what was going on until David asked
“So Donna Vineyard, will you marry me?”
The buildings on the airfield itself were converted into commercial premise while the former married quarters were made available to rent and the Vineyard family moved into number 17 Military Row on the 18th of December 2014 but Donna Vineyard was the only one still there five Christmas’ later but she shared the house with her boyfriend David Smith.
They were both hard working 30 years old’s, Donna at the Digitize Image Lab up at Mornington Field and David farmed up at Smithfield’s Farm with his family.
That year it was Donna and David’s turn to play hosts to the parents for Christmas dinner, which Donna achieved with great aplomb.
But after dinner, when the table was cleared away and the dishwasher was loaded, it was time for present giving, and this Donna didn’t take in her stride, and that was because she didn’t really like receiving unknown Christmas Presents.
Donna preferred to either get money or have already selected the gift and instructed the giver, or preferably she would actually buy it herself and then give it to the presenter for them to wrap.
That way she avoided having to employ one of the stock phrases for responding to the Christmas present she would rather not have received.
Her comment’s included,
“Thanks a lot”,
“My word! What a gift”,
“You shouldn't have”
And “Wow”
Or “Well, well, well”
She would have liked to have been facetious but she loved Christmas too much to say something like
“If I had put on 4 stones it would have fitted me perfectly”,
“It's lovely, but I'm worried about the jealousy it may create”,
“Just my luck to get this, on the Christmas I promised to give all my gifts to charity”
Or “Unfortunately, I am about to enter MI5's Witness Protection programme”
So imagine her dismay when her boyfriend of five years presented her with an unexpected gift in front of all the assembled family.
“Oh I’ll open that later” she said “let someone else go next “
But they all insisted she open it and inside she was seething, but externally she had to adopt a calmer stance and David knew precisely what was going on behind the façade and smiled at her discomfiture as he put the gift box in her hand as she sat down on the chair.
It was a box about the size of a bag of sugar and painfully aware that all eyes were on her she pulled the ribbon which undid the bow, then she removed the lid to reveal a smaller similarly wrapped package which she removed and smiled with gritted teeth.
David knew that parcels within parcels were another one of Donna’s pet hates, which is why he did it.
So she again pulled the ribbon which undid the bow, then she removed the lid to reveal another smaller similarly wrapped package.
This was repeated twice more before she held a small bundle wrapped in tissue which, urged on by the spectators, she began to unwrap, and the only audible sound was that of Donnas teeth grinding.
But finally the last layer had been conquered and everyone expected one of her stock response’s but instead there was just silence, even the grinding of teeth had desisted because her mouth was open as she stared at the item at the centre of the unfolded tissue paper, which was a platinum set solitaire diamond engagement ring.
No one else in the room could see it so they weren’t entirely sure what was going on until David asked
“So Donna Vineyard, will you marry me?”
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