The Lovers of Wensley Dale
by Bill Kirton
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: None.
Description: From rags to riches to heartbreak.
_____________________________________________________________________
Leticia's eyes softened as she turned from the window and looked back into the cabin. Outside, the snow was still deep, the tracks left by Roger’s Black Colt Extrema were beginning to fill as the wind drifted the fresh falls over them. But here, the logs crackled, the flames glinted on the bottle of Château Pétrus Roger had opened before he left, and the unhurried notes of a Beethoven sonata curled towards her through the warm, pine-scented air.
She walked slowly to the hearth, pausing to check her reflection in the long cheval mirror. The cream satin of her dress clung to her, her green eyes smouldered as she deliberately lowered her eyelids and pouted a smile at herself. God, what a difference love had made to her. Was it really just a month ago that she'd been living in a tenement room with Gavin? Could it really be just four short weeks since she'd had to put up with his shift work as a hospital porter and somehow combined looking after him with holding down her job at the Lidl cheese counter?
As she draped herself over the chaise longue and watched the flames flicker, she let her mind drift back to the day Roger had appeared. She’d been setting out slabs of Dolcelatte, Brie and a particularly ripe Camembert when she heard a polite ‘Excuse me’. She looked up and felt an instant frisson of delight shimmer in her heart. He was leaning towards her but she could see that he was tall. A lock of his tousled dark hair fell forward over his brow and his electric blue eyes pierced into hers. He smiled and, as she felt the frisson melt into a delicious warmth, she knew that she was his.
‘Have you got any Wensleydale?’ he purred.
His voice reached out and enveloped her, its textures soft and dark as chocolate, its slight Highland accent lilting her into a willing submission. As she unwrapped the cheese and cut a wedge, she felt his eyes on her, felt his gaze as a gentle, loving violation. Her hands shook and the knife slipped, nicking the end of her left forefinger. She gave a little gasp and lifted it up from the cheese. But before she could move away he reached across, took her hand softly in his and drew her finger to his mouth. She watched, her eyes wide, as his full lips parted and he gently guided the tip of her finger between them. She felt his tongue wet and warm against her skin.
‘Come with me,’ he said as he withdrew her finger and looked at it. ‘I have a first aid kit in my car.’
Unhesitatingly, she followed him out to the car park where a Ferrari Testarossa gleamed across two disabled parking spaces. Roger leaned back against it, drew her to him and they came together in a kiss that shook her world.
Forty yards away, Gavin took off his bicycle clips and watched as his life’s dream splintered and his heart broke.
Swearwords: None.
Description: From rags to riches to heartbreak.
_____________________________________________________________________
Leticia's eyes softened as she turned from the window and looked back into the cabin. Outside, the snow was still deep, the tracks left by Roger’s Black Colt Extrema were beginning to fill as the wind drifted the fresh falls over them. But here, the logs crackled, the flames glinted on the bottle of Château Pétrus Roger had opened before he left, and the unhurried notes of a Beethoven sonata curled towards her through the warm, pine-scented air.
She walked slowly to the hearth, pausing to check her reflection in the long cheval mirror. The cream satin of her dress clung to her, her green eyes smouldered as she deliberately lowered her eyelids and pouted a smile at herself. God, what a difference love had made to her. Was it really just a month ago that she'd been living in a tenement room with Gavin? Could it really be just four short weeks since she'd had to put up with his shift work as a hospital porter and somehow combined looking after him with holding down her job at the Lidl cheese counter?
As she draped herself over the chaise longue and watched the flames flicker, she let her mind drift back to the day Roger had appeared. She’d been setting out slabs of Dolcelatte, Brie and a particularly ripe Camembert when she heard a polite ‘Excuse me’. She looked up and felt an instant frisson of delight shimmer in her heart. He was leaning towards her but she could see that he was tall. A lock of his tousled dark hair fell forward over his brow and his electric blue eyes pierced into hers. He smiled and, as she felt the frisson melt into a delicious warmth, she knew that she was his.
‘Have you got any Wensleydale?’ he purred.
His voice reached out and enveloped her, its textures soft and dark as chocolate, its slight Highland accent lilting her into a willing submission. As she unwrapped the cheese and cut a wedge, she felt his eyes on her, felt his gaze as a gentle, loving violation. Her hands shook and the knife slipped, nicking the end of her left forefinger. She gave a little gasp and lifted it up from the cheese. But before she could move away he reached across, took her hand softly in his and drew her finger to his mouth. She watched, her eyes wide, as his full lips parted and he gently guided the tip of her finger between them. She felt his tongue wet and warm against her skin.
‘Come with me,’ he said as he withdrew her finger and looked at it. ‘I have a first aid kit in my car.’
Unhesitatingly, she followed him out to the car park where a Ferrari Testarossa gleamed across two disabled parking spaces. Roger leaned back against it, drew her to him and they came together in a kiss that shook her world.
Forty yards away, Gavin took off his bicycle clips and watched as his life’s dream splintered and his heart broke.
About the Author
Bill Kirton was born in Plymouth, but has lived in Aberdeen for most of his life. He’s been a university lecturer, presented TV programmes, written and performed songs and sketches at the Edinburgh Festival, and had radio plays broadcast by the BBC. He’s written three books on study and writing skills in Pearson’s ‘Brilliant’ series and his crime novels, Material Evidence, Rough Justice, The Darkness, Shadow Selves and the historical novel The Figurehead, set in Aberdeen in 1840, have been published in the UK and USA. He's recently started writing children's stories and the first, Stanley Moves In, has just been published. His short stories have appeared in several anthologies and Love Hurts was chosen for the Mammoth Book of Best British Crime 2010.
His website and blog can be found at http://www.bill-kirton.co.uk.
His website and blog can be found at http://www.bill-kirton.co.uk.