Harry and Bertie

Chapter 1

Harry Kennedy is an accountant. In that regard he is most definitely not very exciting. In fact, not very much in his life was exciting.

Recently he gave up his large flat in London; a change of pace was required. As an accountant he, really, could work from anywhere, so why endure all the hub-bub of busy London? He purchased a cottage in a sleepy little village; oddly enough it was called Sleepy Cottage and it was located right on the edge of the village of Dibley.

Dibley was a strange village, well the village wasn't strange; in actual fact it was quite picturesque. The people? He wondered if there was something in the water. The man who sold him the cottage was pompous and full of himself, his son was a bumbling idiot. His wife, the church verger, was even more off her rocker! And don't get him started on Jim Trott: n-n-n-n-nothing could explain him.

But Harry was determined to make the best of it. He was a big walker and the fields and trails in the area were spectacular! The village had no pub, which was kind of a downer; but Eastley was not far away. He was sure he could stumble home on foot, if necessary.

So, it was in this frame of mind that he started to explore around. A fairly steep hillside ran up from Dibley and he decided that today was the day that he was going to tackle it. He set off, clad in sensible shoes, some comfy jeans and a brown leather jacket to stave off the breeze.

Roberta (Bertie for short, thank you very much!) Welland worked at the local primary school. She acted as secretary, event co-ordinator, fill in nurse (band-aids for everyone!) and all around Jill of all trade. Honestly, if she weren't there the place would probably fall down. Bertie had grown up in Dibley, went away to Leicester for school and had come back only the year before.

On this particular day, she was hastening to a meeting with the vicar, one Geraldine Granger, to review the plan for the annual Spring Fling: a free-for-all disguised as a fair. She was walking briskly down Dibley's main road, admittedly looking at her papers and not in front of her, when she slammed forcefully into the back of a very tall man. Bertie did not consider herself particularly short, but this man towered and towered some more above her.

As her papers exploded into the air she exclaimed, "Oh bugger!"

The man turned around and knelt down saying, "Oh here, let me help you."

Bertie replied, "Thank you ver-" She was going to say "very much" but the words stuck in her throat as she gazed into the most riveting blue eyes she had ever seen before.

"I'm so sorry," Harry said, "here I was just standing in the road...the scenery is so spectacular that I keep getting caught off guard." He shuffled the papers he had in his hands, trying to tidy them into a semblance of neatness. As he handed them back he said, "I'm Harry." As Bertie retrieved her papers he held out his hand, "Harry Kennedy, at your service." A smile full of teeth and dimples spread across his narrow, but beautiful face.

Bertie gave herself a mental head shake, took his hand and chuckled, "B-"

'Oh no," thought Harry, 'not another Trott!"

"Bertie Welland, at yours."

"Bertie?"

Deadpan, she replied, "Yes."

"That is an unusual name for a girl..."

"Yes, it is."

"Right! Well, I am off to check out the hill. See you around."

Bertie realised that she had probably sounded quite rude. She hated her proper name and the less that was said about that, the better. However, she didn't want him to run off so quickly.

"You are new to the village? I've not seen you around."

"Ahh, yes. I just moved here from London."

Bertie's face fell. Dibley was close enough to London that many "townies" had come to live, but none of them got involved in anything. All too rich and hoity-toity. For goodness sakes, they ended up spending most of their weekends back in London for something to do!

"So, you won't be around too often?"

"Actually, I plan to dig in. I don't need to work in town, so I be around all the time."

She brightened. 'She's a little plain, but she really has a very pretty smile,' he thought.

"Excellent!" She looked at the ground, an awkward silence ensued. She kicked at some dirt in the road and said, "Well! I'd better pop off. Meeting with the vicar..."

"Alright," Harry started backing away from her. "We'll see you around, then?"

"Yes. Yes." Bertie smiled and bobbed her head while Harry turned and made his way up the hill.

"Bertie!" She jumped as the vicar called to her. "Are you coming or what?" The vicar stood beside Bertie and spotted Harry walking away. "Well, well, well...will you look at that..."

"I am! Trust me, I am!"

The women broke into giggles and made their way to the vicar's cottage.

***

The Spring Fling was a complete success! Bertie looked around at the various stalls and activities that were laid out on the village green. There was a small merry-go-round, some bouncy castles, games of chance and games of "skill" and, her favourite thing of all, a dunking tank! This year she had convinced Hugo and Owen to be the victims; she had already raised £250 at a rate of £5 a go. Oddly enough the vicar bought 10 tickets...

She was busy tidying one of the student's displays, a massive replica of the Tower of London, when a tall, lanky shadow cast itself across the table.

"Hello," Harry's smooth baritone sent shivers down her spine. 'Oh stop Bertie, quit being a girl!' she scolded herself.

She turned to him and smiled, "Hello to you, Mr. Kennedy. Are you enjoying the Fling?"

"It's Harry...and yes, this is a good bit of fun, isn't it?"

"We aim to please."

"Well, there you go...mission accomplished!" His smile really was radiant!

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a very wet, very topless Owen rushing up to the table. "Bertie, love, have you anything to put on me?"

"Did you not bring a towel?"

"Well, uhhh, no."

"Did you not think you might get wet?"

"Who knew the vicar could aim so well?"

"Right. Go off and see Jim, he can find something to cover you with!" She gave him a little shove, "Go on; be off!"

Harry was chuckling to himself. Bertie sighed.

"You seem to be the only sane one around here. Did you come her voluntarily?"

Bertie laughed, "No...but you did."

He rolled his eyes and nodded his head, "Touché." He looked down at her and smiled, "Would you fancy a bite of supper?"

Bertie had to work hard to control her shock, "Who? Me?"

"Yes, you." There was that million watt smile again!

"Uhhh, well...sure, why not?"

"Tonight?" he asked hesitantly.

"Okay, how about the pub at Eastley? Say 8 o'clock?"

"Excellent!" He touched her elbow and she thought she was going to fall over. "Look, I have to go...but we'll see you at 8, K?"

Bertie smiled and nodded her head, waving as he left her side.

The vicar sidled up beside her. "How is Mr. Hot Stuff?"

Bertie turned to her friend, cocked an eyebrow and replied, "Mr. Hot Stuff is fine. Having supper with him tonight..."

Geraldine squealed, grabbed Bertie's hands and jumped up and down.