Gwen Quinton-Smith lived in Sharpington and had done all of her life and had no desire to live anywhere else. The traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea suited her very well with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.
Owen left home bright and early so he could touch base with Juliana, who he hadn’t seen for 10 days, since she went away with her family to Greece.
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 in the East, or more precisely, 20 miles inland from Sharpington-By-Sea, equidistant between Finchbottom and Pepperstock Green, in the sprawling village of Denmead.
Christine was mortified when she had to tell the man she fancied that she was stuck in her own car, but that mortification paled into insignificance when she saw Jordan Donaldson’s car drive into the lay-by.
“I know I’ll move the seat” she said to herself and carefully reached down and grabbed the handle, yanking it up as she tried to push the seat but she could apply enough force against it
Jordan Donaldson came good and a mechanic, Darren, duly arrived in the allotted time and after 20 minutes said that he would have to get it back to the workshop and he’d have her up and running by midday on Saturday.
After a very pleasant lunch at the Phoenix Restaurant good byes were said and as there were only legal formalities to be dealt with it was left to the lawyers to draft the contract, which would be signed and sealed later in the day, so Annette said to Christine. “Do you need me for the next bit?”
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (49) Entrapment (Part 02) Shallowfield’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, to Abbottsford, Abbeyvale and beyond and it only barely survived, and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.