This is the ninth part of a fiction serial, in 724 words.
When it was time for Connie to leave, Diane toyed with the idea of asking her to stay and share the ham salad she was having for dinner that evening. However, that might mean her cycling home in the dark, and there were no lights on the old bicycle. Instead, she called to the girl as she got on the bike. “I will send you a postcard from Yorkshire!”
The drive north was very pleasant in her shiny green car. She had washed and polished it before the trip, making sure to check the oil and water when filling up at the garage in Fordham. With her small case secure in the boot, she took the scenic route, not arriving at the bed and breakfast until very late in the afternoon. It was not the first time she had been to Haworth, or that same bed and breakfast, and it felt familiar as she walked up the driveway carrying her case.
At a gift shop the next morning, she found a nice postcard of the Bronte’s house, and a paperback copy of Wuthering Heights. Both were intended for Connie, though it suddenly dawned on Diane that although she knew where the girl lived, she didn’t actually know the postal address. They would have to wait until she returned home to Essex. In a tiny bookshop, she was delighted to find a postcard with a reproduction of The Lady Of Shallot on it, and she tucked that inside the copy of Wuthering Heights for Connie to use as a bookmark.
Arriving home four days later, Diane thought about driving to Connie’s house to deliver the gifts. But she had no idea how long her mother would be away, and that woman might have not thought it appropriate for a teacher to visit the house. Probably best to leave it until school resumed in September.
She didn’t have to wait until September.
The knock on the door startled her as she was reading. The post had already come, and she was expecting no visitors. Connie was propping the bicycle against the front hedge as she opened it. “I came by each day to see if your car was back in the lane, Diane. My mum came home yesterday, but she doesn’t start back at the pub until Friday evening”.
Perhaps she should have asked why the girl had come every day. Perhaps she should have told her she was busy, and she would see her at school soon. But she didn’t.
“Oh, do come in, I have a gift for you”.
Handing over the book and the two postcards, Diane seemed flustered and awkward. By contrast, Connie looked confident and assured, radiant in a simple pink dress, her hair fragrant and flowing. “Silly me, I forgot to get your address, so I brought the postcard home. There’s another one inside the book for you to use as a bookmark, I think you will see why I chose it”. The girl looked like she might burst into tears. “I have never had such a thoughtful gift. I will treasure the cards and book always, I promise you”.
Putting the book down on the coffee table, Connie stepped forward and kissed Diane full on the lips. It was a kiss that was neither too brief, nor too long. And it was a kiss that sent a delicious shudder up Diane’s back. She stepped back quickly, resisting the urge to follow up with a kiss of her own. “Let’s have a cold drink. Look at the book, I have written inside the cover”. In the kitchen, Diane was trembling, and she held on to the old stone sink lest she fall over. With her heart racing, and her head spinning, she had to stand and regain her composure before going back with the drinks.
Connie was sitting with the book on her lap, open at the blank page where Diane had written on it.
‘To my dearest Connie, a girl with the brightest of futures. Diane. XX’
Choosing to sit opposite the sofa on a ladderback chair, Diane knew she could not trust herself to sit next to the girl, close enough to feel the warmth of her body.
Once Connie had left, a wave of relief swept over her, and she poured herself a large glass of wine.
At least a good idea not to drink the alcohol until she was alone again. The tension is increasing, and you had made a very thoughtful script, Pete! 😉 xx Michael
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Thanks, Michael. Glad you could feel the tension.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Great structured, Pete! As you can see in my comments, i more and more get a better ability in reading and understanding the English language. So after all, I don’t have to look for a girlfriend from England. Lol xx Michael
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Reblogged this on NEW OPENED BLOG > https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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If teachers got any sense she will move on and quick although that young lady seems to be rather encouraging as well …teenage hormones x
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Big crushes from young people are not to be encouraged, that’s for sure.
Best wishes, Pete. x
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Absolutely Diane certainly learnt that the hard way 🙂 x
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Another terrific chapter Pete!
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Thanks very much, John.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I’m surprised that Diane is showing some constraint given the unexpected kiss. I can’t imagine where this is going? All roads seems to lead to trouble if you will! C
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The story has to move on, with a new owner for the car. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I had a teacher just like Diane. I felt uncomfortable in her presence. She once invited me to her house for a party. My mother gave me a long lecture, but I took a few other girlfriends. This story brings 1976 all back again.
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I was invited to the homes of three different teachers, when I was between the ages of 14-17. It was all above board, with their wives/husbands/families there. They just wanted to befriend us, and expand our horizons, fortunately.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I fear she might have wanted to expand my horizons in ways that I didn’t want expanding, lol.
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You have a typo Pete, it’s Haworth. Has this serial now changed tack? I thought it was going to be about the car, not a lesbian teacher seducing underage children.
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Thanks for pointing that out, Jude.
The serial is about the car, and its owners through the decades. Each owner has a reason why they cannot keep the car, so each reason is different. Diane’s story ends in the next episode.
Best wishes, Pete. x
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(1) The bed and breakfast is named Howarth’s Inn. It’s run by a guy named E. M. Forster.
(2) All this talk about Wuthering Heights has made of Kate Bush’s song a delightfully pesky earworm.
(3) Just as Francesca ran off with a guy and got pregnant, Connie will get knocked up by fellow bike rider Little Frankie Toland.
(4) Connie graciously accepted the postcard of “The Lady of Shalott.” She didn’t rock the boat.
(5) Overheard:
Connie: “I feel like I might just burst into tears!”
Diane: “Whatever floats your boat.”
(6) Diane is so possessed by Connie that her head is spinning. We need to call an exorcist.
(7) Bad citation: “Once Connie had left, Diane poured herself a large glass of wine. She felt relieved as a big red wave of Copper Ridge Cabernet swept into the goblet.”
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Nice cross reference to the previous serial, David. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Maybe Diane is coming to her senses… but then again…
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She might see sense by tomorrow, Jennie.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I hope so. Best to you, Pete.
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I didn’t imagine this would be X-rated!
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One kiss, nothing more graphic. I promise. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I can’t say I’m going to feel sorry for Diane when this blows up.
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I doubt anyone will, Kim. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Uh oh, I sense trouble on the way, or a hasty departure for Diane 🤔
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I know what you mean, Chris.
Best wishes, Pete.
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enjoying the story and what a good choice of gift for connie and what a weird sensation for diane and this is as good as the last one
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Thanks very much, I am pleased to hear that you are enjoying it.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I am enjoying this story, Pete, and can’t help wondering where it will lead…
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It will be moving on from Diane soon. It is following the car through the various owners, and each one will be very different.
Best wishes, Pete.
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That should interesting…
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