Story Challenge 3

[Daisy]

Clover - that's excellent. As Gem said, it held my attention and I also held my breath when Edwin caught Bella! I was sure that was going to be bad for her, so I heaved a sigh of relief at the happy ending. I loved your dialogue - it sounded very much in 'period' and I could picture the scene very clearly. Well done.

[Plantaholic]

Great story Clover, yo are all so clever, I don't have a story in me.

[Daisy]

Plant - I think having an opening sentence makes all the difference. Just picture the scene in your head and see where it takes you. I'd never written a story before, and I'm sure mine aren't technically good, but it's fun to let the story develop.

[Nanto2girls]

Clover, enjoyed reading your story, and as Gemini and Daisy said, it had a happy ending.

[Oma]

Oh Clover I want to read more , it's a brilliant story 😊 well done

[Gemini]

My (rather short) offering.

The leaves rustled gently as the breeze changed direction and the moon slowly glided from behind the wispy clouds.Amy figured that if she tried hard enough she could make herself totally flat -or as flat as was humanly possible beneath the pile of leaves . Peering out through the leaves she could see clearly in the moonlight. Hiding here, making herself as small and quiet as possible was, Amy knew, her only chance of remaining undetected. Pricking up her ears she heard some snuffling, an animal in the woods perhaps. The sound came closer. She closed her eyes and held her breath, hoping it wouldn't give her away if it detected her presence. She felt the warmth of animal breath, close now, then suddenly, perhaps distracted by something else, off it went.
Amy relaxed a little, but still didn't dare to move.
She began to grow cold, how long had she been hiding out there? Her legs were beginning to feel stiff, and a tickle was beginning in her nose. Oh no, now was not the time to sneeze, she couldn't be found. With all the effort she could muster, Amy managed to supress the sneeze.
The woods were eerily quiet, was it safe, or was someone, or something lurking, unseen and unheard?

Suddenly the silence was broken 'Amy!! I give up, come out now, it's far too late to be playing hide and seek in the garden, even Benji can't find you, come on out'. The eight year old jumped up from her hiding place, her jeans, jumper and long blond hair covered in leaves. 'I think I win that game Dad', she grinned, skipping back to the house hand in hand with her father, Benji the dog wagging his tail as ran ahead.

[Clover]

Excellent Gem. Short but very sweet
Good for Amy!
Don't know where you found the time what with new baby and all

[Daisy]

Gem - I love it! Short, yes. Sweet, definitely. It reflects beautifully the intensity a child puts into a game like hide and seek. Well done, you.

[Daisy]

I've finally managed to get my Story Challenge 3 finished. It's ended up a bit longer than I expected and I've done quite a lot of editing to get it to this length.

Story Challenge 3

The leaves rustled gently as the breeze changed direction and the moon slowly glided from behind the wispy clouds, and the silhouettes of two figures could be clearly seen as the man, young and muscular, bent his head gently to the slender woman, and their arms entwined as they drew slowly together in a lingering kiss.

From a vantage point further up the hill a sharp intake of breath was carried away on the breeze as eyes glinted and fists clenched. ‘Over my dead body’ he muttered, ‘that … that … that … peasant will be gone from here tomorrow, she’ll never see him again. I’ll make dammed sure of that’.

Neither of the lovers heard the car as the door closed with the sort of soft clunk that only serious money could buy and quietly disappeared over the brow of the hill.

The young man pulled away. “We must go - now!” he urged. “Have you got your passport?” She nodded, wordlessly. “Tom’s driving us to the airport.”

—————-

“Marcus! Marcus - she’s gone. Her bed hasn’t been slept in”.

“What! You stupid woman, didn’t you check last night - I told you to. She can’t have gone far - I took her passport out of her top drawer last week so she can’t have gone abroad to marry him without my consent. Look!” Yanking his desk open he snatched the black book, turned it over and stared in disbelief at the gold crest and a cleanly cut top right-hand corner.

—————

Miriam sighed, the sort of sigh that speaks of hard work completed and the prospect of time to relax for a while. She picked up her mug of tea and carried it out into the garden behind the stone cottage. The sun was low in the sky and bathed the magnificent view of Snowdonia in its warm, golden end of the day glory. She sat down on the bench under the kitchen window, and inhaled the scent of daffodils and tiny violets planted and nurtured in the window box. The garden was coming to life after the long cold winter. The hens clucked around contentedly, preparing to roost for the night. Beyond the farm yard sheep with newly delivered lambs were grazing, pleased to be freed from the lambing shed and out in the fresh air.

Everything was ready for tomorrow when all her family would gather at the cottage to celebrate Easter Sunday. The two legs of lamb were well- seasoned and sprigs of rosemary tucked around them. The potatoes were par-boiled ready for roasting and the fresh vegetables were washed and chopped and stored in poly bags in the fridge. The table was decorated with arrangements of spring flowers and catkins. Miriam smiled to herself. This was the life she had wanted before she even knew it existed.

Brought up in London in a whirl of social climbing that had been her parents raison d’etre she always knew she wanted something more worthwhile, more solid, more natural. Meeting and falling head over heels in love with Griff that fateful summer in Abersoch had set the course for the rest of her life. She had been furious with her father for making her go, who in their right minds would have swapped the Swinging Sixties scene in Carnaby Street for some Welsh seaside village where the pubs didn’t even open on a Sunday. But Griff, an agricultural student woking in the extensive grounds of their friends’ pretentious mansion for the summer, had captured her heart.

It had been hard, those first years, when Griff was still studying and Miriam’s few skills - arranging flowers, cooking a meal for a smart dinner party - weren’t in great demand. She’d taught herself to type and taken whatever jobs were offered. Then three of their four children arrived in three years and she supplemented Griff’s farm worker’s wages with home typing, often working long into the night. Berwyn was an easy baby, all chubby cheeks and fair curly hair. The twins, Idris, like his brother, fair and cheeky, and Megan, dark of hair and eye, solemn and thoughtful had arrived just before Berwyn’s third birthday. Nesta, born ten years later, had been a surprise. By then Griff and Miriam had their own precious small holding, a flock of healthy sheep and their cottage nestling in a sheltered fold in the lowlands on the edge of Snowdonia National Park. The children had thrived in the wild terrain, always outdoors, helping with the animals. They had been good years.

Now, with Berwyn sheep farming on neighbouring land, Idris working in Liverpool and Megan, the eternal student, working on her PhD in Cambridge only Nesta made regular visits home. But tomorrow the whole family would be there, along with their old friends Tom and Sylvia. Tom, now in his late 70s had long since retired but still came and helped out at lambing time, often putting in 15 hour shifts in the lambing sheds. With no children of their own Tom and Sylvia had delighted in being part of Miriam and Griff’s happy, noisy family.

Miriam was unusually introspective as the sun finally slipped behind the mountains and the moon rose serenely on the scene before her. After she had left home so dramatically on that summer evening, her parents had disowned her. Her mother had passed away when the children were not much mare than babies and she had only had occasional contact with a second cousin who told her that her father had never forgiven her for throwing away her bright future for a life of drudgery in the middle of nowhere. He’d never had a daughter called Miriam. He said by marrying Griff she had forfeited her own family and the considerable inheritance he would have left her.

Putting her mug of tea to one side, Miriam took out the letter she had already read a dozen times that day. The thick, creamy paper and embossed heading spoke of expense not spared. The message was brief - “it is our duty to inform you that your father passed away on 18 March. In his will, copy attached, he makes provision for you, his only child, to inherit the majority of his estate, worth approximately £3.6 m, subject to Probate, providing you did not enter into marriage with Mr Griff Llewelyn-Jones. The details, as you will see are quite specific, and the letter to you accompanying the will explains that by marrying Griff Llewelyn-Jones you forfeited all his estate. This will, dated 14 September 1966, is his last will and testament. I understand that the said marriage did take place, possibly overseas, thus invalidating any claim to your father’s estate. I would be grateful if you could confirm your marital status so that we may proceed with execution of your father’s wishes.”

Three point six million pounds. Miriam tried and failed to imagine what such a difference would make to the lives of her family and to the small close Welsh community which had welcomed her, helped her to learn the Welsh they spoke daily, and helped her to learn that real wealth was not kept in stocks and shares but was the daily currency of life where hard, often back-breaking work was the norm.

As Griff appeared through the gate she stood and a huge smile spread over her face. “What a good job you never made an honest woman of me, bach."

The leaves rustled gently as the breeze changed direction and the moon slowly glided from behind the wispy clouds, and their arms entwined as they drew slowly together in a lingering kiss.

[Gemini]

I loved that Daisy, brilliant ending! You are a good writer.

[Daisy]

Gem - thank you - you're very kind.

[Clover]

Excellent Daisy. I loved the ending-didn't see that coming!

It's fascinating how different people think of such diverse plots following the same initial sentence.

Come on other ladies. We'd love to hear your stories. I know it can be a bit time-consuming but an enjoyable challenge.

[Daisy]

Clover - thank you kind lady. I haven't done any story writing at all since leaving school, but it's something I always enjoyed. I seem to work in an odd way though - I get the initial idea from the 'challenge' sentence. Then think up an ending, then try and fill in the middle. It's being given a starting sentence that makes all the difference because I think that is the hardest bit.

It's fun to do though, and it would be great to have some more GRU authors having a go.