Changes~23

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After a quick change into a pale blue smock top and long, dark blue gypsy skirt, I made my way to the Toad and Tart.
It had clouded over slightly, bringing a bit of a relief from the sun’s hot rays, beating down on my head.
Also the breeze off the sea helps to cool things a little.

Changes

Chapter 23

By Susan Brown


 
 

Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?

I need your love,
I oh, I need your love
God speed your love to me…

Roy Orbison

Previously…

After saying goodbye to Abby, I strode back to my cottage to change. Glancing back, I could see her standing framed in the doorway; I gave her a wave and she waved back before going back inside.

She had seemed sad to see me go and I was caught up in a whirlpool of emotions. I was in the middle of a messy divorce–well the beginning really. My life was complicated. The love I had for Olivia died the instant I saw her having sex with another man. Nothing had changed my mind there. Deep in my heart, I knew–even before that awful day–that our marriage was dead and I had been deluding myself for ages that she loved me and I loved her.

Yes, my life with Olivia was over.

But, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt anyone and I was aware of stories about love on the rebound. Also, I don’t know how Abby felt about me or whether she was seeing anyone.

‘How can you be like this after seeing her just once?’

You see, I had fallen in love.

And now the story continues…

After a quick change into a pale blue smock top and long, dark blue gypsy skirt, I made my way to the Toad and Tart. It had clouded over slightly, bringing a bit of a relief from the suns hot rays, beating down on my head. Also the breeze off the sea helps to cool things a little.

Note to self: get nice wide-brimmed sun hat.

As I entered the pub, several of the people looked at me and either nodded or said, ‘Hello.’ One old timer even said, ‘Good on yer, gel.’

Thinking that he must be drunk or something, I just smiled at him and hurriedly made my way upstairs to the bar where I had agreed to meet Katie.

I reachedthe top of the stairs and heard, ‘Cooee,’ coming from the balcony; Katie was waving and I smiled when I espied Jocasta and my estate agent friend, Millie, sitting with her.

‘Hi, girls,’ I said as I joined them. ‘Who’s having what?’

They were okay for drinks so I just got myself a gin and tonic–without the gin–but with lots of ice and a twist of lemon, then returned to my friends.

‘Let me look at you,’ Jocasta said with a frown.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Nope, no blood, so what d’you think, girls, any internal injuries?’

‘Possibly,’ said Millie. ‘Tricky things internal injuries.’

‘She might be one of those strong, silent types who suffer pain stoically,’ Katie remarked.

‘What are you loonies talking about?’ I asked, and they all burst out laughing.

‘Candice, of course,’ Jocasta replied. ‘She normally eats up meek and mild people and spits them out. I reckon she caught a tigress by the tail when she messed with you, Sam.’

‘I wish I’d been there,’ laughed Katie. ‘The whole village is talking about it and, according to the jungle drums, Candice has taken a few days off for some reason.’

‘I think we all know what that reason is,’ smirked Millie.

‘Well, she shouldn’t have had a go at me. What with all I’ve been going through lately with Olivia and her frightful father, it’s not surprising that I’m a bit tetchy occasionally.’

‘A BIT tetchy?’ Millie chuckled, ‘Remind me not to be near you when you’re more than a bit tetchy.’

We all laughed at that and then after some more good-natured leg pulling, our conversation moved onto other things.

‘How did you get on with Abby and her cats?’ Jocasta asked.

I bit my tongue as I nearly replied, ‘wonderful.’

‘She’s a delightful person and I adore her cats.’ I replied as non-comittedly as I could.

Jo frowned at me; it seemed as if she was about to say something and then changed her mind.

Our conversation moved on to other things and we ordered a basket meal–chicken and chips. It was a long time since I had chicken in a basket, it seemed to have gone out of fashion in most pubs for a while now. However, this being Penmarris, and the whole place being in a time warp, nothing surprised me. What was surprising was how quickly the time flew and, before we realised it, it was time for us to go our separate ways. After saying goodbye with the obligatory hugs all round, Katie and Millie went back to work, leaving Jo and I to finish our drinks as we gazed over the cove down below.

‘Okay, out with it, girl.’

I looked at her, puzzled.

‘Sorry?’

‘You’re hiding something.’

‘No, I’m NOT,’ I protested.

‘It’s about Abby, isn’t it.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Hmm. Well, will you promise to tell me when you’re ready?’

‘Heavens, is that the time?’ I exclaimed, glancing at my watch. ‘I have to get going now.’ And before she had time to say anything that might induce me to reveal my secret, I gave her a quick hug and exited stage right.

Arriving at home, I fired up my computer. I had to get some art supplies for my studio, and after searching several websites, I found one that could fulfill most of my needs and would deliver at a reasonable cost. Mind you, after seeing the total of the items in the basket, I thought that free delivery should have been given.

It would be fantastic to be painting again. I had missed it so much, it had been like an ache, or an itch, maybe, that had needed scratching for longer than I cared to remember.

The materials would be arriving sometime tomorrow afternoon so I would have to make sure that I was at home. After making myself a cup of tea, I went up to my studio–gosh, that sounded soooo good–and picked up a sketch book and my pencils. I sat at the table in good light and sketched from memory. First through outline and then I adding more detail, remembering every facet from the vivid image in my mind’s eye. As usual, I zoned out and my hand did it’s magic.

It’s surprising that, when you are totally absorbed in something you are passionate about, time goes by so quickly. I was pleased with the result when I finally put my pencils down. It was a relief that I hadn’t lost my touch. Where my art is concerned, I am my own most severe critic.

Looking at the drawing, I knew that I would never be satisfied until I painted the subject on canvas, but until then, I would keep the drawing of Abby in a prominent position in my bedroom.

That reminded me that I would have to find out if Katie had found someone to go to my old house and pick up my belongings–including my canvases, paints and other tools of my trade.

My idea was that I wanted to be able to paint for a living. Although I had some money behind me and if all went well with the divorce, more might come my way, I did not want to rely on it. Maybe I would find somewhere to open as a small gallery and show my own works and perhaps other artists. However, all that was for the future but was definitely worth thinking about.

I had been so absorbed in my sketch that I hadn’t noticed the time, so I was surprised when I discovered it was early evening. I wasn’t all that hungry, so I made myself a quick sandwich and then picking up my cardigan, I went for a walk.

The clouds had disappeared and it was still quite warm. As I made my way up the steep lane, though the turnstile and onto the West Coast walk, I considered all that had happened in an incredibly short time.

Was everything going too fast and was I riding for a fall? All the nice things that had happened to me since that fateful day when my world had crashed around me in ruins, had almost seemed like it was all a dream.

Finding Penmarris and its wonderful people–apart from Cantankerous Candice, of course–my fabulous cottage, the friends I had made, the fact that I could still paint and, of course, not forgetting the cats and…Abby, made me wonder at how lucky a girl could be.

I reached the top and turned away from the cove along a stretch of the path that hadn’t explored before. It was achingly beautiful here. Below me was yet another sandy cove, but the cliffs here were far too steep to support any paths or roads, so it looked as if the only way to reach it would be by boat. I wondered if I could learn to sail or if that was too strenuous or difficult for me, perhaps I could get a boat with an engine?

There was a seat to the side of the path; like the one I sat on the other day, it had a little brass plaque. On the plaque it simply said, Margaret’s Seat, bide a while and wonder at the view.

I did wonder at the view; it was superb. There were pretty pink, blue and yellow flowers all around me, with purple heather and lush green grass at my feet and that was wonderful enough. But as the sun set, the golden fiery globe kissed the water, reflecting on the gentle waves as they washed up on the shore and I felt happy and at peace. The sound of the waves breaking on the beach below reaching up to me here as I sat on Margaret’s Seat together with the birds calling, all added to my feelings of well-being. Shadows grew longer and along the path I could see a few rabbits playing in the undergrowth, oblivious to my presence.

Thinking about it, I knew that storms lay ahead, especially regarding Olivia and Nigel and I had to make a decision whether I should speak to Abby about my feelings for her, but just for now, I was content.



To Be Continued...

Angel

The Cove By Liz Wright

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

Edited by Gabi and posted by her at Sue’s request.

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Comments

Perfect spot

I don't know how you do it Sue, but that description of the scene where Sam is sitting on Margaret's Seat and taking in the view was simply wonderful. It was the perfect spot for Sam to relax, ponder the changes in her life and strengthen her determination to fight for her future.

Pleione

Beautiful Scene !

jengrl's picture

That final scene was beautiful. I was really picturing it in my mind. I thought the get together at the "Toad & Tart" was really nice. I was kind of puzzled at Jo's reaction when Sam mentioned Abby. I guess she knew that Sam would tell her more after she had had time to sort it out herself. I laughed when they mentioned Candice had left town for a few days. I guess Samantha really rattled her but good! LOL!

PICT0013_1_0.jpg

I Remember The "Big O"

joannebarbarella's picture

Roy Orbison, so appropriate, and the Everly Brothers. That romantic period which existed for a while in the late fifties and early sixties.
As Samantha muses, storms to come, but can we doubt that she will weather them?
I want to know what happens next but I don't want this story to end. Paradox, eh?
Joanne

Roy did record

Roy did record a cover of "Unchained Melody" (released in 1968); but the definitive version was credited to the Righteous Brothers (although Bobby Hatfield was the only member of th duo who sang on the recording). Roy Orbison's career was revitalized in the 1980s after several covers of his hits made the charts. It was during that decade that he joined the super group The Traveling Wilburys along with Eric Clapton, Jeff Lynne, George Harrison and Tom Petty.

Samantha will surely weather any storms which may arise, as she is a far stronger person that she had been as Tom.

Jenny

Enchanting

Sue,

The sun set was so peaceful. I enjoy hiking to lofty and remote places to enjoy the beauty of nature. I wish those feelings lasted forever.

Samantha hinted she still has stuff on her 'list'. Does this mean a storm is coming?

Hugs,
Trish-Ann
~There is no reality, only perceptions.~

Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~

You make me believe

Heaven can be a place on earth.

heartwarming Sue.

Sarah Lynn

And there was me thinking

Samantha was painting the view...I guess i should have known better!!!

Kirri

Welcome Back

What happens Next? A visit from "DAD?"

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Maybe I am having a blonde moment

... here ( ha, ha ) but I do not recall Millie the estate agent being in on the circle of people who knows about Sam's past to the extent of discussing about Olivia.

Kim

Hum, sounds like a couple *strays* have found eachother

I noticed in the previous chapter Abby was pleased, surprised and possibly defensive when Samantha called her beautiful.

I assume she knows Samantha is technically a man under that pretty exterior.

I can imagine why Abby never married and lives somewhat isolated. Until was it 14(?) she thought she was a boy, probably feeling within her heart something was wrong. As nice as this town is kids can be cruel and HE likely got called all sorts of names. Suddenly she learns she's a she -- her first menstruation was the clue perhaps -- which probably made things worse with her schoolmates. She was likely thus a loner in school, never dated or if she did it was some cruel joke date or somehow a bad experience. She likely never thought of herself as pretty due to her messed up childhood. By the time she was who she was supposed to be it was too late, she'd been scared mentally.

Samantha I am not convinced wants full SRS as he/she wants a family and love. Look at all the cr** she put up with Olivia hoping they might have kids. I think the push for SRS is in reaction to the terrible shock of seeing Olivia fucking in their own house.

Though Ms Brown may be teasing us I hope the mid/early thirties Abby and the 30 year old Samantha can heal each other. Plus they both love cats and Olivia could not abide pets as they*tied her down*.

Samantha, get your personal effects back from the sl** ASAP, get back your art supplies, canvases and any art works/stetches you have done as they are likely to be vaulable eventually and why should the bit** get anything for them, Plus art supplies, the good stuff, can be expensive.

John in Wauwatosa

P.S. Sharks, like that loathsome father-in law make great fish for fish and chips. Dogfish, a bottom dwelling shark, is a classic for fish and chips and being a greasy bottom-dweller, Nigel is perfect. Olivia, you lost a keeper. Abby, open up and reel in Samantha and have that family, even if Samantha dresses as a woman most/all of the time HE is a great man, a great woman and a fine person.

P.P.S. I assume Abby knows Samantha is a man as the grapevine in town is so efficient, though there is a chance she doesn't. Her odd reacion to Samantha could be just her being so uncomfortable/unfamiliar with romancee and attraction. they clearly are attracted to each other but can she love a man? She said rather nochalantly taht after the mistaken idenfication of her as a boy was straghtened out all was well but I doubt it. I think she was very hurt otherwise why would she not realize how attractive she is?

John in Wauwatosa

Penmarris is NOT a Town…

…it's a village, because it's too small to be a town. In UK a village is a bigger than a hamlet—just a few houses and cottages grouped together in a rural setting. The distinction between a village and a hamlet is that a village has a church and an inn or pub or two. The village I live in (population about 2,200) has one church and three pubs. There used to be four, but the strict drink/drive laws made the fourth pub uneconomical because it was on the very edge of the village on a main road and therefore patronised more by passing motorists than local inhabitants. There are three towns between 4 and 10 miles and a city about 13 miles away.

On the subject of fish and chips, dogfish is used here in UK too, but it is never called that; it can be found masquerading under names such as Rock Salmon or Huss and many others according to which part of Britain you are in.

Gabi.

“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Another nice chapter

RAMI

This was another nice chapter in Samantha's Saga. No problems to ruin the day.

By the way, how come she does not have her car back, so that she could go and pick up the art supplies herself?

RAMI

RAMI

DIY vs. Delivery

Partly, it's cultural. Partly, it's a class thing. There are people who wouldn't dream of going to fetch things themselves when there is a perfectly good system in place to deliver it to them. Much less hassle, to say the least. Plus, you'd be depriving someone of labor, and possibly their job. If no one wanted delivery, then who would hire a deliveryperson? Plus, fuel costs are obscene, and it's just not normal to frivolously use your car for every single possible errand. This is without even asking what Samantha has ordered and if it would actually fit in her car. A roll of unmounted canvas can be a bit on the unwieldy side. Nice cars, too, easily cost twice what they do in the US, due to high up-front road taxes incorporated in the purchase price. You don't casually impose wear and tear on it if it's not necessary, heaven forefend throwing a bundle of canvas stretchers on the leather back seat!

It's not just large, expensive orders from professional art-supply houses, either. Sometimes free service is ubiquitously available and accepted. I haven't been there in a while, but last I was, in the 1990's, the majority of people in that part of England who consumed milk had it delivered daily, in glass-bottled pints, via a man driving an electric delivery vehicle known as a "milk float," with the cream floating on the top of the bottle, a luxury almost completely absent on my own shores a score of years prior.

Home Milk Delivery

RAMI

But despite the delivery part, Where is the Car?

I have to go back to the 1950's and perhaps very early 1960's, but we used to get milk (Queens, New Yor) delivered 3 times a week, in glass bottles, with the cream on top. Every other week, we got chocolate milk delivered the same way. You could also get fresh eggs, and other dairy products. You could also get bread and cakes dekivered. The "grinder" came around every 3 months to sharpen knives and repair small electric items.

A different world, which for most if not all urban parts of the U.S.
is long gone.

RAMI

RAMI

Milk Delivery to your doorstep…

…is still common in Britain. In the village where I live there are two dairies which will leave your daily “Pinta” on your back doorstep before breakfast—at least, it used to be a daily delivery, Monday to Saturday, but now is more usually every other day. It was in glass bottles until about 5 years ago, but now is in the inevitable cardboard or plastic cartons.

The picture below shows how it used to be but a few years ago in our village, sadly no glass bottles, but the paper is still delivered daily if you want depressing reading. :(

I believe there are still one or two small local dairies and dairy farms who use glass bottles for their deliveries.

Milk_bottles.jpg

It wouldn't surprise me if it was available in Penmarris, maybe from a local dairy farmer? And, natch, his delivery-man has to be called Ernie.

Gabi.

“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Milk delivery.

We still have milk delivered in glass (reusable) bottles. I am much against so-called 'bottle banks' where only the glass is recycled when it should be the whole bottle as it was when I were nobbut a lad and collected pop bottles for the penny refund.

Gabi, depressing reading? You should take Angharad's advice and get a Grauniad to cheer you up ;) That Torygraph'll do you no good at all LOL.

I suspect the nearest place to pick up a decent selection of art supplies from Pennmarris would mean a round trip of over 30 miles so it's much cheaper to use the post unless our heroine is a keen cyclist.

A very entertaining tale, Sue. I'm enjoying each chapter as the story unfolds.

Geoff

Even advertised!

Here's a classic milk delivery commercial from the early 1990s:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g99a80AXrsQ

And the previous decade, we advertised the product itself quite extensively, as you'll notice in the "Related videos"...
 
 
--Ben


This space intentionally left blank.

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

Remember those times very well

The grinder died off in the early to mid-seventies. We stopped getting milk deliveries around the late sixties. My family home still has the milk box though. Oh and don't forget Hammer beverages who use to provide home soda deliveries.

Oh, and don't forget the Doctor providing house calls - that ended in the late sixties pretty much also.

I lived in the superior borough of the Bronx - not in a wimpy place called 'Queens'. :P.

A different time indeed.

Kim

Da Bronx and Good Egg Creams

RAMI

With a proper NY accent it is Da Bronx, and a true afficionado would use a capital "T".
The Bronx. I was born in the Royal Hospital in Da Bronx. My grandparents lived within walking distance of Yankee stadium, so I got to see some real ballplayers, Mickey Mantle, Roger marris, Whitey Ford and the best Yogi Berra play ball.

Did you also get Fox's U Bet delivered. I was devastated when they switched to plastic bottles. Without candy stores it's hard to get a good Egg Cream

RAMI

RAMI

Sorry

... those Bums were before my time. My childhood included Guidry, Jackson ( and his amazing million dollar salary ), Nettles ( still have his bat from bat day ) 'The Goose', Thurman Munson, Mickey Rivers et al.

They were a solid team with no overblown egos - well maybe, Catfish, a little but there was not much in the Prima Donn(ald) way.

I think amount of class teams exhibit has gone downhill as the years have gone on.

I have not followed baseball in years as a consequence. These days they are not 'the bums' they are just bums - with their greedy little hands out.

Oh, BTW - It's Da 'Bronix' to REAL elite ! :P.

Kim

Sketching!

terrynaut's picture

Hey. You had Samantha sketching again, and she ordered paints and stuff. Yay!

The subject of the sketch surprised me, though it really shouldn't have.

This is a great time for Samantha. I hope she makes the best of it before the storm hits.

Thanks very much for the chapter. Please keep up the good work.

- Terry

P.S. Sorry to hear about your mum.

ah, Sue

when is samantha's is gonna get her BMW back?

Coming along nicely

There's lots happening, Jocasta's on to her, how does Abby feel?

The whole town will know her now after Candice.

I'm hoping the divorce ges sorted soon it's annoying having it around like a dark cloud on the horizon, Please Sue!

It's a great read Sue.

LoL
Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

DOH ! I've run out of storie. :(

My what a charming tale. Were this a book, I would stop only when my eyes started punishing me for my insensitivity, or my bladder threatened to burst.

I wonder when/if she'll decide on hormones and all that. The 'moans and abscence of the dread toxic contamination Testosterone just makes life seem ... alright.

M'salama

Khadija

A calming reflective chapter...

Ole Ulfson's picture

Samantha is settling in and gathering her friends around her. She's finding her center and preparing herself for the battle ahead.

I love Roy Orbison, but try this version from a different time and place: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qiiyq...

It won't be to everyone's taste,

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!