First Taste of Penchurch [open thread]

[Ali Ghazali]

It was with great regret that Ali recognized the small town ahead of him as he drove along an old road through the white fields. Or rather, he didn't recognize the place; his phone did. He peered cautiously ahead and slowed his speed considerably. He had heard things about the speeds people could go on country roads, and also, he didn't think that killing a stray dog would make the greatest first impression. "Destination arrived," his phone declared in a tinny android voice, and he pulled into what seemed to be a parking spot near the side of the road and looked around for a promising spot. The first thing he spotted was a neon OPEN sign hanging in the window of what appeared to be a corner shop, whose signage helpfully proclaimed it to be The Corner Shop. Right then. He'd have biscuits for dinner. He peeked in the rearview mirror. Despite his long drive, he was looking good, with only a slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks. Donning his big black trenchcoat, he slipped out of his car, patted its red bonnet once for good luck (specifically good luck in the not-getting-stolen department), and headed over.

When he got inside, he discovered to his disappointment that not only was there an extremely limited selection of biscuits, but that there didn't appear to be anyone at the counter. Looking around, he wondered if he was missing a bell or something. And then, realizing that he was a total stranger in a new village hanging around a corner shop and brown to boot, he decided he probably shouldn't skulk around for too long. He gave the the Chocolate Digestives one last longing look and headed for the exit--just in time to be hit soundly by the as somebody opened it to come in. "Oof!" Caught by surprise, he landed on his arse. This was not the way that he had hoped to make his first impression on Penchurch.

[Lucy Parr]

Lucy had just nipped into the shop for a packet of biscuits, which she couldn't last long without, and which she constantly had to replenish owing to the number of visitors she had. She'd been trying to persuade the Church to give her a biscuit allowance, but somehow that wasn't looking promising. So, for now at least, she had to buy her own. Probably for the best- there was no telling what she'd do if someone else paid for all her biscuits. Still, a girl could dream.

Her feet splashed on the wet road as she ambled up from the church. Lucy grimaced. She hated the winter months. There was nothing to look forward to after Christmas had come and gone. Just wind, cold weather and rain. Endless bloody rain. Why couldn't they have just a little snow for once? It would brighten the place up.

It was while she was thinking in this depressive vein that Lucy reached the shop, and she pushed the door open with probably a little less care than she should have. Which resulted in someone who was coming out falling over. Lucy gasped. Her first instinct was to laugh, but she hastily quenched the urge. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
She held out a hand to help the newcomer up. He had to be a newcomer, because she didn't know him. "I'm so sorry!" she apologised sincerely.

[Ali Ghazali]

Ali looked up and made a split-second assessment of the woman. She was short, which he noticed first because it was noticeable but also because he tended to always take notes of people's heights relative to him. She also appeared to be mostly made of a pair of tall boots topped by a long blue coat, from whose hood peeked a pretty face, rosy-cheeked from the cold Some strands of blonde hair had slipped out of their bun and he knew, as cliché and impermissible as it was, it would be great fun to tuck them back behind her ear.

"I'm not," he said, taking her hand and pulling himself up. Then he shook it. "Ali Ghazali," he said, rolling the gh a little for effect. "And you?"

[Lucy Parr]

As the man pulled himself up, Lucy noticed that actually, he wasn't bad looking. Not bad at all... Though he wasn't her type, she told herself hastily. She had to roll her eyes at his first words, though. Such a cliché. He'd have to do a hell of a lot better than that if he wanted to get anywhere... Which he wouldn't. It was just a bit of casual flirting, but it had been so long since she'd experienced it, buried in this stopped-in-time community that she was enjoying it. Definitely enjoying it.
She shook his hand just as enthusiastically as he shook hers. "Lucy Parr." she introduced herself. "Reverend Lucy Parr." she added after a pause for effect.

[Ali Ghazali]

"Ah." He acknowledged her rank in the church with an exaggerated arched eyebrow, then went on, "I don't suppose you're also a shopkeeper on the side? Because I've been very badly tempted to break at least one of the Ten Commandments today and I'd love to be rewarded for my restraint by some Chocolate Digestives." He paused, then grinned. "That, or I'll split the package with you if you turn a blind eye." He hadn't actually stolen anything just yet, but he was always up for a bit of petty crime if there was someone to do it with.

[Lucy Parr]

Lucy laughed slightly. "I have quite enough to do in the Church, without running this place as well." She put on a shocked expression at his next words. "As a minister of the Lord, I couldn't possibly be a party to such a thing." Glancing around, she was surprised that no one was there to serve customers- people in Penchurch were usually glad for the entertainment, not to mention the business. "Well then, Mr Stranger. It seems you have two options open to you that don't involve any activity that's both criminal and breaks the Ten Commandments." She raised an alluring eyebrow. Alluringly.

[Ali Ghazali]

"As far as I can tell, both begin with me leaving the premises without biscuits, which I'm not terribly enthusiastic about," Ali said, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving her a dubious look. "But after that, let's see. You direct me to a place to stay for the night, which probably has some form of sandwich or at least a granola bar--dull, unappealing, practical--or you show me somewhere I could have dinner with you--much better. I'll take the latter, if it's an option." He tried to quite deadpan, but his eyes at least were smiling.

[Lucy Parr]

"Well now," Lucy mused. "The village doesn't run to a restaurant, which leaves us with two options. Again. We could go into the town, but that's a good half hour away, and you look tired." She paused briefly, wondering whether this was a good idea, but then she decided. What the hell, she'd only live once. This was an opportunity that wasn't likely to come around again any time soon. "So, if you don't find a faintly Jane Austen atmosphere off-putting, perhaps you'd like to come over to the Vicarage. I can even offer you a pack of ginger nuts!" Lucy joked lightly. "Just a warning though. My cooking is... Variable." Sometimes excellent, sometimes awful, an invitation to dine with Lucy was accepted at one's peril. You had a 50-50 chance of getting something edible.

[Ali Ghazali]

Ali waited patiently for her to come to a conclusion. Her hesitation told him a few vital things, and he relaxed a little himself. "It's a good thing my cooking isn't," he said. "Put me in front of a stove and watch the magic happen." He nearly went on to tell her about how he got his skills, but decided that was too fast too far. Right. "Did you come in a car?" he inquired as he opened the door for her. Outside, the evening had deepened into a night hung with thick clouds, and the cold wasn't quite as sharp as it had been. Across the way, he saw a petite, severely overdressed Asian woman enter what appeared to be a pub. Hm. interesting. Either the Reverend hated pub food--he personally loved pub food, but he could understand why somebody wouldn't-- or she had reason for wanting to narrow his choices.

[Lucy Parr]

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "A man who offers to cook. Must be my lucky day. I have to warn you though, my stove has 1846 on the door." The range was a lovely feature of the cottage, but it was an absolute pain to cook on. That was her excuse, anyway.
"Thank you." Lucy said as she stepped out of the door and waited for her new acquaintance to close it.
"A car? Not likely. It's two minutes down the road! That's the good thing about Penchurch, everything's only a few minutes away." She noticed his glance down at the pub, but she opted not to say anything, instead choosing to allow him to draw his own conclusions. Lucy merely gave him a coy smile and gestured down the road towards the Vicarage.
"Shall we?"

[Ali Ghazali]

"Absolutely." He eat her smile with a brilliant, unrepentant one of his own and offered her his arm. "It'll be like a cooking challenge on one of those shows my--my dad likes. Cooking on a stove from our century or even last century would be far too easy. And I aim to impress." As they walked along, he plunged a foot into what turned out to be a big glob of mush deceivingly coated with a light coating of snow. He made a little face--hadn't planned on an excursion, which was stupid of him--and forged ahead. "Hope you have a radiator I can hang my socks on, at least," he said.

[Lucy Parr]

Lucy laughed. "I have an open fire, and that'll do the job. Are you not a country boy yourself, then?" No one that she had known in Cornwall and it's villages had ever been stupid enough to drown their foot in a puddle. Clearly the man planned on staying for a while if he was going to dry his socks.
"You're certainly not local, or I'd know you. I suppose you're one of the BBC lot that have invaded us lately?" Lucy guessed.

[Ali Ghazali]

"London through and through," he confessed, giving up on his shoes entirely. He could keep up a conversation and pick his way through the slush by staring down, but he couldn't do both without looking a posh sort of prat, so he settled for cheerfully subjecting his feet to the dreaded squish-squish for the rest of the walk and forgot about it. "And yeah, I'm an actor, probably the worst combination. But you can't hold it against me, not when your lot just won Brexit. No need to kick a fellow when he's down."

[Lucy Parr]

Lucy laughed. "I can deal with the London bit. I might even be able to deal with the actor bit, for someone with such a handsome face." She shot him a flirtatious smile- at least, she hoped it was flirtatious. It had been a while. "But the Brexit bit, I can't deal with." Lucy held very few strong political views, generally. She was vaguely Conservative,but usually that was as far as she went. But she just didn't see the point of paying millions of pounds to Brussels every year. "but let's not get political," she added hastily. "Tell me, what's it like being an actor?"

[Ali Ghazali]

"Why not?" said Ali, and immediately his right hand flexed. He had it down to the point now that sometimes his unconscious would move faster than any feeling of regret. It was an old habit he'd given himself as a child: when you're about to spoil something that could be generally good, or when you're about to get your arse handed to you when you need to show up unbruised, just flex your right hand so it can't become a fist and think about what you're doing for one bloody second. His instincts were probably right, he admitted grudgingly. This was close to a perfect night and he knew he could blow it up easily. Would blow it up.

"It's--it's interesting," he said. His mind was going a mile a minute, which he hadn't really expected. But he supposed that he'd expected certain things from this seemingly sleepy town, and this was the first meeting of expectations, and so along with the undercurrent of frustration at her and at himself there was also a kind of vigilance, too. It was sapping his full concentration and making him sound--not dull, not really, but not wholly himself either. "As a career I wouldn't recommend it for most people. But--it gives one opportunities. For travel, for self-expression, for personal development." He realized now how dull he really was being and hastily added, "There's probably not much I can say about acting that some great like Oldman or Mirren hasn't said before in a thousand interviews. But what about you? Countryside vicar, probably quite a lot of drama, I'd assume."