Telling Tales: A Collection of Short Stories

by Jeff Jones

Overview

Everyone wants to fall in love, even the loners, and this collection of short stories by author Jeff Jones finds loners at their loneliest and introduces them to the idea of romance. Taken more from imagination than personal experience, each story in the collection presents a man or woman in need of connection and sometimes salvation.

There are tales of budding romance and young love. There are stories about long-term romances in need of rejuvenation. Love isn't just romantic, though; sometimes it's familial, and sometimes, we need to feel closest to those who share our name. But it is all love, in its many, many incarnations.

The characters of Telling Tales have no dark shadows waiting; these are stories with happy endings, intended to inspire and uplift. Loners leave their state of reclusion and join the human race. Romantic heroes win the day. We dream of moments like these, and if we're lucky, we'll live a real life love story of our very own.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781452529202
Publisher:	Balboa Press Australia
Publication date:	06/23/2015
Pages:	416
Product dimensions:	6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.93(d)

Read an Excerpt

Telling Tales

A Collection of Short Stories

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By Jeff Jones

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2015 Jeff Jones
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-2920-2

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CHAPTER 1

A String of Pearls

He was having his usual breakfast; two pieces of toast and coffee. He was going through the morning post. One or two bills, several cheques, and a letter from a firm of solicitors. He frowned at it then opened it.

Dear Mr. Walker,

As you already know your grandmother passed away several weeks ago. As her solicitor we find you are her sole beneficiary of her estate. We would appreciate you calling for an appointment to this office at your earliest convenience.

Hoping you will oblige,
G.S.Patterson
G.S.Patterson & Son.
Marazion

Miles was very surprised. Of course he knew his grandmother had passed away, he was very close to her. She had raised him since childhood, owing to his parents being killed in an accident in France. His grandmother lived in Marazion on the Cornwall coast. He remembered his childhood with happy memories. He loved Cornwall; his grandmother had paid for his university education, in which he had graduated with a degree in journalism.

Miles was a freelance writer for two magazines, while not bringing a fortune, it kept the wolf from the door. His target was one day to write a novel. He'd been thinking along those lines for a month or two. He went to the phone and rang the solicitors' number from the letter. He said who he was and why he rang, and asked if could have an appointment to see Mr. Patterson senior. After a few moments he was offered an appointment for the following Monday at ten thirty in the morning. He thanked the receptionist and rang off.

Monday at ten thirty sharp, Miles travelled from Exeter, and arrived to the offices of G.S.Patterson & Son, in Marazion, he told the receptionist his name, she rang through and then conducted him into an office. He was met by Mr. Patterson senior, who introduced himself, and offered Miles a seat.

"May I ask for some form of identification please Mr. Walker?" Miles produced his driving licence. "Thank you, Mr. Walker. May I read you the contents of your grandmother's will? She has left you her complete estate, which consists of a two-story house and £47,750."

Miles was dumbfounded. "Where the devil did Gran get that kind of money?" he asked.

"Several months prior to her death, your grandmother asked me to sell the shares she had herself inherited from your grandfather, hence the capital. Now if you can give me your account number at your bank, I shall transfer the funds to it." Miles supplied his bankcard, still dumbfounded at his good fortune. "I will also supply the keys to the property. Your grandmother had a housekeeper and cook, and as far as I know she is still there. She was bequeathed £5000 by your grandmother."

"If she is still there, she must have some back-wages due to her," Miles said.

"She is paid automatically from the estate. You will know where the property is, won't you?" Patterson asked Miles agreed.

"Well here are the keys, and if I can be of any service, please call on us.Goodbye, Mr. Walker" and shook Miles's hand.

Miles was still astounded at his good fortune. He thought he should drive to his grandmother's house. no, his house now, and introduce himself to the housekeeper. So he drove to the house, which brought back many memories.

Getting out of his car, Miles approached the front door, and decided he should knock, which he did. After several minutes, a woman answered the door. She was about his age, maybe a little younger. And she was dressed rather severely.

"Yes?" she said.

"My name is Miles Walker. You apparently were my grandmother's housekeeper and cook. I have just come from the solicitors, who have given me the keys" The woman's face showed surprise, and she stepped back to let him in. He walked through to the kitchen. Nothing had changed since he was last here. The woman followed him in. he turned and spoke. "And what is your name?"

"My name is Mrs. Beaumont, sir" she said in a local brogue.

"Well, Mrs. Beaumont, I may come and live here. I take it you live-in here, does your husband also?"

"My husband passed away eighteen months ago." She replied.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Beaumont. Are you prepared to be housekeeper for me?"

"I knew Mrs. Walker had left this house to a grandchild, but I expected an older gentleman" she said curtly.

"But you haven't answered me, will you continue on here, or would you rather not?" he asked again. Mrs. Beaumont looked uncomfortable. "Mrs. Beaumont, don't be concerned, I shall not worry you, or are you worried at living here with a man of your own age?"

"As I have said, I expected an older man, but I have nowhere else to go. I would like to stay on here, sir."

"Mrs. Beaumont, if you want to stay on, it would suit me, I shall arrange for locks to be put on your part of the house, if you wish."

"Thank you Mr. Walker. Would you care for a cup of tea or coffee. Have you had any lunch, sir?"

"Mrs. Beaumont, there is no need to address me so formerly, my Christian name is Miles; use it if you'd rather" he offered. Mrs. Beaumont placed a tea in front of him.

"There is some ham. Would you care for a sandwich or two?" she asked. He said that would be fine. While she was working, he looked at her. She was an attractive woman but didn't help herself by drawing her hair back into a 'bun' at the back, and she wore very severe clothes.

When he'd had his lunch, he asked Mrs Beaumont did she knew of a locksmith in the township. She said there was one in the street one back from the seafront, he thanked her. He said he would stay over-night, then go back to his flat in Exeter. He would then arrange for his personal property to be forwarded, as he had decided to live here. He got up from the table and went upstairs into the main bedroom, which he remembered was his gran's. He saw everything was in order. He went out to his car and brought his overnight bag in and put it in the bedroom.

Miles came downstairs and said he would go to the locksmith's. It was strange to be coming back after all these years. When he got to the locksmith, he arranged for a serviceman to install the locks where the housekeeper indicated. When he returned, Miles told Mrs Beaumont what he'd done, and he told her to get locks put in where she wanted them. She thanked him; he hadn't seen her smile once. He thought she didn't do herself any favours, especially in the way she dressed. Any-way that wasn't his worry.

The next morning Miles drove back to Exeter to gather his "personals". He went and told the landlord his intentions, and paid his rent. By the time he'd done all that, he didn't arrive back in Marazion until it was almost dark. Mrs Beaumont was a little surprised to see him. She asked him if he eaten, but he said he got something on the way down, thanking her.

Miles unloaded his car, carrying it all upstairs; he decided he would turn the second bedroom into an office for his writing. He moved a table under the window, and put his chair with it, plus also his computer, since he was able to find an electric plug.

As he came downstairs Mrs. Beaumont told him the locksmith had been, thanking him. She offered him a hot drink; he thanked her, but refused.

The next morning was overcast, and there was even the threat of rain. When Miles had showered he came downstairs, and Mrs. Beaumont asked him what he would like for breakfast. He said he'd have his usual two pieces of toast and coffee. She placed the coffee and toast in front of him, and then Mrs. Beaumont carried on working.

"Mrs. Beaumont, Miles decided to start. I realise you resent my being here, but please join me at mealtimes. Let's not behave like 'master and servant'; I'm not used to treating people like that, so let us at least talk to each other. Did you eat with my grandmother?"

"Yes I did, but the situation is a little different now, isn't it?" she answered.

"But it doesn't have to be; surely we can be civilised to each other, or even friendly. Is it because I'm a man of your own age that you resent me?"

"Firstly I don't know you, or your ways." she replied. He didn't answer, he wondered if the situation was going to work.

"I know your wages are paid directly into your bank account, but what about food, and other items.? How's that paid?"

"There is a monthly account that was charged to Mrs. Walker's bank. I countersign the account. You may change it if you'd rather." she answered.

"No, if you're happy to continue, it's okay with me. Do you check the bill?" he asked.

"Of course, Mr. Walker."

"Mrs. Beaumont, can we not dispense with the 'mister'?" he asked. "I'm not used to being addressed that way."

"I think it best we continue as we are." She said coldly. He saw no point in arguing with her. She looked at him. "My name is Sarah, if you prefer." she offered.

"Thank you, Sarah. Sarah, I'm a freelance writer. I shall install myself in the second bedroom upstairs as my office. I shall do my best to keep out of your way."

"Mr. Walker, this is now your home, you come and go as you please." she said offhandedly. He wished she would unwind, so they could be friendlier.

Finishing his breakfast and thanking Sarah, he went back upstairs to his office to continue setting it up. When he was satisfied, he looked at his notes and began typing on his computer, the article that he had been working on was sent to the magazine. He spent two hours on the article, when there was a knock on the door, Sarah came in with a mug of coffee. He thanked her gratefully. She looked around to see if she was needed here, but seeing all seemed to be in its place, she left. Another hour was spent on the article, and then Miles read it through, when happy he emailed it to the magazine. By this time it was lunchtime. Sarah asked would ham and eggs suffice, and he agreed it would, with a smile.

Following lunch he decided to go for a walk along the beach front. It was still overcast, and getting windy. Miles was intrigued with St. Michael's Mount; it had fascinated him since he was child, and still did. It was getting colder, he turned for home.

Several nights later, he was woken up by a voice and a man coughing. He put on his dressing gown, and went downstairs. Going into the kitchen he saw Sarah and a man, seated at the table. Both stood at his entrance. He looked from one to the other. The man turned and left the house. Miles followed him and reaching the door, bolted it. Coming back to the kitchen, he faced Sarah, who had undone her hair so that it lay on her shoulders.

"Sarah, I would rather you didn't entertain your lover here." he said, a little coldly.

"Mr. Walker, he is not my lover, I've not been with another man since my Albert passed away!!" she said forcibly.

"Okay, what was he doing here then?"

"Business."

"Business?" she nodded, defiantly.

"The only business at three in the morning in the morning is a 'Lover's tryst' or smuggling. You say he's not your lover, and then it must be smuggling. Sarah, if he's been hiding contraband in this house, tell him to move it, very, very soon. Don't get mixed up in it, please. Do you understand?" Miles said very seriously.

She nodded. "I'm very sorry Mr. Walker." very embarrassed. He turned to back to bed, and then said.

"Your hair like that does a lot for you. You are a very attractive woman. You try to make yourself look dowdy, you look better with your hair down, goodnight, Sarah."

"Goodnight, Mr. Walker." When she went back to her bedroom, she looked on the mirror; she patted her hair, and was pleased with what she saw.

Then next morning when he came down for breakfast, Sarah had his toast and coffee ready, He sat down at the table, and she sat also.

"Thank you for last night, Mr. Walker."

"Sarah, make your friend shift any contraband that may be stashed here, and last night never happened. I don't want you implicated. Where the devil would I get a housekeeper like you?" he exclaimed.

"You're very kind Mr. Walker."

"Let's leave it at that. But I meant what I said about you hair." He got up and went upstairs to his office. He worked for most of the day. The next morning Sarah joined him again at th breakfast; at the breakfast table.

"Things are back to normal Mr. Walker," she said pointedly.

"Thank Heavens; I was worried in case you were implicated. It's nice having you join me at mealtime. I have to go to Exeter on business, but I should be back by teatime, okay?" Miles announced. She said she would make tea at six o'clock. He went upstairs and put his jacket on and picked up his brief case, said goodbye, and then left for Exeter.

Miles had been in Mazarion for about three months. Life seemed to be fine. There was a sense of 'armed neutrality' between Sarah and Miles.

One day Miles spoke to Sarah. "Sarah, you must have friends here in the township." she nodded "Would like to invite them to dinner here. Don't worry about me, I'll go out that night and have dinner in the town." Sarah looked at him in some surprise wondering what brought this on.

"Thank you Mr. Walker, I'll think about it, you're very kind." She said.

It was a week later when Sarah approached Miles. "Would you mind if I invited some friends on the eighteenth of September to dinner."

"No of course not, I'll make sure I have dinner in town." Miles answered.

"You could come too." she said.

"Thank you, Sarah but no. You will enjoy your friends more if I'm not here." He replied.

"You'd be welcome." She said quietly.

"I know I would, but the same reason applies, thank you."

The evening of the eighteenth of September arrived, and Miles made ready to go out. Coming downstairs he poked his head in the kitchen where Sarah was busy preparing for her Dinner.

"Hope things go well Sarah, just enjoy, 'bye."

"Thank you Mr. Walker, I wish you would join us, I feel terrible."

"Don't Sarah, there's no need, just enjoy your friends." and left it at that.

About nine thirty in the evening, Miles arrived home. He unlocked the front door and made his way to go upstairs to his part of the house. He heard plenty of laughter. Sarah must have heard him, and she came to him.

"Hello Mr. Walker, come through and meet my friends."

"I don't want intrude on your evening, Sarah" he replied. Again she was wearing her hair down. Just then a woman who Miles had never met joined them.

"You must be Miles Walker, join us and drink to Sarah's birthday" she grabbed his arm and led into the lounge or common room both Sarah and shared. He looked surprised.

"Your birthday? Why didn't you say?" he asked. A glass was thrust into his hand. The same woman announced.

"Everybody! This is Miles Walker, who Sarah house keeps for, you can see why she hides him away, anyway raise your glasses and wish Sarah a Happy Birthday once again." They all drank the toast. Miles saw that Sarah's guests were all women, five of them. Sarah was still embarrassed at her friends comment. Miles was introduced to each of them. Miles spent another 10 minutes with them, and then excused himself. Before leaving he told Sarah that she and her friends would not be disturbing him, just enjoy their company.

The next morning when Miles came down for breakfast, Sarah was busy at the sink, she turned.

"Thank you for last night, it made for a lovely change. By the way, I paid for all the food and drink." She said.

"There was no need to do that. You should have told me it was your birthday."

"Why? What difference would it have made?" she replied.

"Sarah, because I don't want to cause you any embarrassment, I can't take you out to dinner, for obvious reasons. Would you allow me to cook you a meal tonight to celebrate your birthday?" she was taken aback.

"Why, why do you want to?" she said a little defensively.

"Just to say 'thank you'." She thought about it, and then nodded her agreement.

"Fine, at four o'clock, you go to your apartment, and I shall knock on your door and take you to dinner, what do you say?" Again she thought about it. "Sarah please don't be suspicious of me, I know I'm one of your least favoured people. But can I ask a favour? Wear your hair down." She looked quickly at him, he was becoming an enigma in her eyes, and she couldn't fathom him. She said 'fine, what time would they be having dinner'. He said six o'clock. Again she nodded, thanking him.

That morning he went shopping for the evening meal, and that afternoon he began to prepare the meal. He ushered Sarah into her own apartment, saying he would call for her at six o'clock.

Sharp at six, he knocked on her apartment door, she answered after several moments. He gasped, she wore her hair down as he had asked and she wore a frock he'd not seen before, he thought she was truly beautiful, he wouldn't dare tell her. He offered her his arm which she took after some hesitation, and he led her to the dining table. He had found a candelabra from somewhere with three candles, and seated her at the table.

"Would Madam care for a wine?" he asked, after getting over her surprise, she laughed 'yes please'. He went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of wine; he filled both their glasses, "Happy Birthday of yesterday, Sarah." They drank, and then she looked down in front of her and saw a box with a red rose on top.

"What's this?" she said, with some suspicion.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Telling Tales by Jeff Jones. Copyright © 2015 Jeff Jones. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents

A String of Pearls, 1,
Stranger things in heaven and earth, 16,
Emma, 33,
A Day in the Life of ... ..., 59,
Just Good Friends, 69,
A Joke Too Far, 82,
A Vicar's wife, 90,
Nothing needed to be said, 106,
You needed me', 119,
You have mail, 132,
Unwelcome Guest, 140,
Treasure Trove, 155,
The Storm, 174,
The reluctant hero, 181,
Prodigal son, 186,
The Loner, 193,
The Horse Whisperer, 212,
The Collection, 221,
The Artist, 229,
The Adventures of Stanley and the Indian, 239,
Teachers Pet, 247,
Starting Again, 258,
Out of the Blue, 280,
Man of the House, 290,
Lea Valley Estate, 295,
Impossible theft, 310,
Family Affair, 314,
Cold Nights, 325,
Mail Order, 337,
A Cotswold holiday, 347,
Almost at first sight, 360,
Brief Encounters, 370,
Disposing of a Ghost, 375,
Just doing my Duty, 393,
Love me Love my dog, 400,