A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 39 Iroko, Ermine and Critters

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A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 39 Iroko, Ermine and Critters

Atypically for the time of year the weather was warm at Bearthwaite; it had reached twelve Celsius [54℉] at midday for three days in a row. However, typically for the time of year the weather was thoroughly and unpleasantly inclement. Harry Maywell had always maintained, “My missus Kathleen has the right of it. She reckons if her bees ain’t flying the sensible woman stays in the house and does some ironing. I don’t do ironing, but there’s always something constructive I can find to do indoors.” With the winter solstice just a few days away there were only seven hours of daylight, but when the sky was overcast with dark, heavy, ominous looking rain clouds there seemed to be many fewer than that. Some days began dank in the dark followed by a barely different dimness of a moisty, misty early dawn that lasted all day seamlessly seguing into gloaming dusk before finally fading almost unnoticed subsumed by the dark from whence it came such a short time before which was yet another day with no daylight that made it difficult to keep track of whereabouts in the week one was. Though the rain hadn’t truly stopped for over a week it was just wet, misery inducing rain, not a deluge that would have flooded the road into Bearthwaite. The road was almost clear of running surface water which soaked away into the ground at the bottom of the drainage ditch, but the constant drizzle and lack of daylight, was depressing, and with Stephanie and Chance’s wedding reception a fading memory there seemed little to look forward to taking joy from till the Solstice bonfire celebration and its open air supper on the village green sheltering if need be in the encircling barns and the boatshed, which seemed a long way in the future to the adults and forever away to the children who couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to get excited by the prospect of the fireworks display yet.

Despite, the advent calendars, which the children had made a start on opening the little doors of, the lighting of the first of the four ritual advent candles on the four Sundays before Christmas and the carol service that the primary school children held on their last day of term, the children knew that Christmas did not start for a long time yet. The advent calendars the children used were not the anything but cheap disposable card ones sold everywhere, but hand crafted wooden items usually about two inches thick painted with whatever images took the maker’s fancy, often a Christmas scene, but animals were popular too. The most popular shape was that of a house, but again animal shapes were common too. The little doors opened onto a small space which usually contained a sweetie [candy] or possibly a small toy, puzzle or joke. The contents were refilled every year and many of the calendars were generations old. Many of them had been made by teenage boys as gifts to the young woman they were involved with which was considered to be a serious declaration of intent. Boys were still making them for that purpose.

The four ritual advent candles were placed in hand carved wooden crowns that were always surrounded and decorated with holly, mistletoe, yew, ivy and juniper sprigs woven into a wreath. Only one candle was lit the first Sunday and allowed to burn for the duration of the evening meal. Each Sunday thereafter an extra one was lit too, all four being allowed to burn down completely on the last of the four Sundays. The crown and wreath had connection to the Swedish Santa Lucia festival and the entire matter had remote connection to the Jewish Hanukkah festival of lights, but over time it had evolved to become a uniquely Bearthwaite tradition. Like the calendars, many of the candle holders were generations old, but many were recently crafted. Most had been created soon after marriage by a husband to give to his wife as recognition that she was the ranking female of the household and about to become the mother of his family. Only the ranking female of a Bearthwaite household was allowed to light the candles.

In the main it could be said that the essentially non religious residents of Bearthwaite had an old fashioned view of Christmas and they took a dim view of the rest of the world for whom Christmas started a month or more before the clocks went back. Christmas in Bearthwaite started on the morning of Christmas eve when the womenfolk aided by their daughters finished the preparations for the following day’s meals. It was traditional and thought proper for all the females of the household to spend at least some time in the kitchen, and even newborn girls were in the kitchens in their cribs for some of the day. The menfolk assisted by their sons collected the last of the necessary firewood and set up their dining arrangements for the following day, so as to be able to accommodate those who would be sharing the day with them. That usually involved scaffolding planks covered with blankets supported at each end by a stool to provide seating for the children. Like their newborn daughters were with their mothers even newborn sons were in the dining room as their fathers and brothers prepared the seating arrangements, for again it was traditional and considered proper.

Christmas day like all other notable days in the Bearthwaite calendar was special in Bearthwaite, and to remain so it was considered it had to be just that, Christmas day. It was considered that extending Christmas over weeks if not months diminished it and turned it into just another tawdry event manipulated by marketing men. As Vince the Mince cynically said, “You can tell when it’s Christmas out yonder because there’re Easter eggs in the shops.” Gifts were exchanged at Christmas but there was no orgy of spending as elsewhere. Gifts tended to be practical or small tokens of affection. Many, even toys, were hand made, often items intended to be of use especially those given to children, though knitted and crocheted stuffed toys were popular with younger children. Children’s gifts included tools appropriate to their age, sewing and knitting paraphernalia were always popular with girls and wood working and mechanics tools were similar with boys. It was normal for children to ask for such presents in advance and negotiate what they would receive. A common present for older girls and boys was poultry or coneys to keep for eggs or meat, such presents were highly esteemed by children, for they indicated their parents considered them mature enough to look after livestock. Many houses at Bearthwaite were built with a pigsty and children in their mid teens were often given a piglet to raise. Christmas cards were considered to be a pointless device invented by greedy folk to separate them from their hard earnt money. It was considered enough to wish someone a happy Christmas which cost nothing. However, the primary school children enjoyed making them and they were usually a large card intended for their entire family that took several hours to produce. Their teachers regarded it as a valuable activity enabling children to practice their hand skills during their art lessons.

~o~O~o~

Alf was working on a car gearbox when Pete came into his workshop. He put the micrometer he’d been using down and asked, “What can I do for you, Pete?”

“Alf, what would it cost us for some decent hardwood to make a load of tables for the Community Centre, so we could use it for for social activities as well as its current uses? I’m asking because even with Gustav’s brewery used for such things we need more space to accommodate a really big event.”

Alf laught and replied, “That depends entirely on what you mean by a load and by a decent hardwood, Pete, because quality tropical hardwood is damned expensive. The oak for the shutters on the dragon would seem cheap by comparison because that was European, French if I remember correctly. If you’re thinking in terms of a dark coloured tropical hardwood you’re talking serious money, but you get what you pay for. You could buy oak, elm, beech, ash or the like and have it stained, but used in the kind of environment you’re talking about to look halfway decent it would have to be refinished every few years. What were you thinking about?”

“Something like the bar tops in the Dragon taproom.”

Alf whistled and said, “I don’t think so, Lad. The original piece is a single plank of over two hundred year old solid teak three inches thick and the other piece is the same only it’s younger at a mere hundred and fifty years old. I was gey lucky to find that piece for the extension at any price. The bloke was only prepared to sell it to me because I promised him it was for a bar top extension to match what was there and it wouldn’t be cut up. I shewed him pictures of the taproom bar. Have you any idea what Sasha paid for it?”

“No. Do you?”

“Aye, and there was barely enough change out of five grand [$6250] to buy a pint, and I had to collect it with a truck doing twenty miles to the gallon [7 km per litre] at best from Penzance in Cornwall which was over a thousand miles round trip.”

“Bloody hell!”

“Aye bloody hell indeed. That’s why I wouldn’t let those bar fitters touch it and I installed it myself. I wasn’t prepared to cut it which is why the bar is a foot and a half longer than on the drawings”

“You got any suggestions, Alf?”

“You said tables, but what do you want? How big and how many?”

“Somewhere between eight and twelve foot long. How many would depend on how long they were.”

“How many folk do you want to be able to seat?”

“About three hundred.”

“Three hundred folk need six hundred feet of table. Two foot a head is the usual rule of thumb that’s used. That’s, let me see, seventy-five eight foot tables, or sixty ten foot tables or fifty twelve foot tables. You’d probably seat a few more folk, but that’s a safe estimate of what you need.”

“What will that cost, Alf?”

“You could do it for less than five grand if you were prepared to settle for wood effect melamine veneered chipboard on tubular steel legs.”

“No. We want something in keeping with the rest of the building, some thing that looks as if it belongs in a two hundred year old building. I know in one sense the Community Centre is a relatively new building, but it was constructed entirely from centuries old recycled materials and stone to match from the quarry, so in a very real sense it is centuries old.”

“I know. I made the spindle moulder(1) tooling to make all the architraves and skirtings(2) match up. Who’re we?”

“Sasha, Elle, Gladys, me, and the finance group.”

Alf grinned and said, “Okay. I get it, the Bearthwaite movers and shakers group. Well, using stained European hardwood it could be done for twenty, maybe twenty-five grand, but I telt you the downside of that, and tropical hardwood tops an inch thick made up of strips maybe two inches wide would cost about the same, but all the ones I’ve seen look to be candy striped with wood of widely varying depths of colour in them. I don’t think any of you would like that.”

Pete was shaking his head and said, “I don’t think we would. What would it cost to do it properly, Alf, with a decent tropical hardwood. I don’t think any of us would object to multiple planks in a top, but they’d at least have to match each other in depth of colour.”

“The trouble is even if they appeared to match, some of that could be due to clever shade matching of different tones using stains and various other materials specifically made for master crafts workers to do that with. It’s not a con. It’s very difficult these days to obtain wood where that is not required and colour matching is a major skill required of furniture makers nowadays.”

“You telling me there is no solution?”

“No. What I’m telling you is you’re looking at hellish serious money to get a solution within the parameters you’ve outlined. If you’re looking at that many single slab tables, you could be starting at a well over a hundred and twenty grand, and the sky is the limit, just to buy the wood for the tops as rough sawn planks, and even full of holes, voids, defects and bug damage they’re bugger all cheaper. There is a whole industry out there that uses slabs like that to produce designer tables after the gaps have been filled with epoxy of all sorts of colours and often with metallic effects too. Such tables start selling at ten or twelve grand going up to well over fifty and the slabs sell quickly for silly money. Surely there must be better things round here to spend the money on. Who’s driving this, Pete? Elle?”

Pete nodded and said, “I think she’s looking for something to leave behind her as a legacy to Bearthwaite. I know most folk think of Sasha as the village’s benefactor, but Elle’s done as much as he though in a much less noticeable way. After what she’s done for the place, I really don’t want to disappoint her. Is there really nothing else, Alf? No other way?”

Alf sighed and said, “I wasn’t going to mention it, because I don’t like dealing for big money with friends. You can lose friends quickly that way. However, I’ve got forty odd pieces of fifty-four mil [2⅛ inch] thick iroko just over a metre [40 inches] wide and three point eight metres [12½ feet] long as well as god alone knows how many shorter pieces too, at least six hundred feet in all, maybe over eight hundred feet. [maybe 250 metres]”

“What’s iroko? And how come you’ve got that much?”

“Iroko is a superior quality tropical hardwood, that used to be widely used for laboratory bench tops. Iroko was used because it’s resistant to chemicals of all descriptions and damned difficult to set on fire. Too, it’s hard and given a decent finish it looks good for years, and it’s easy to finish. When it starts to look scruffy maybe every twenty years or so in a laboratory environment you just sand the finish off and reapply it. Iroko lasts almost for ever. In a bar or restaurante environment the stuff would be nigh to immortal. It must be twenty-odd years ago that I heard that some labs were to be gutted at a secondary school out west. I made enquiries and eventually offered to do the job and take all the old benches away too. The price I asked for was gey reasonable and they snapped my hand off.

“I went over there one Saturday morning with some lads and four waggons with trailers. We started at eight and we worked right through till early Sunday evening leaving the four huge rooms shelled. I paid the lads well, and everyone was happy. The benches themselves and all the cupboards and drawers were quality pitch pine pieces made with tight dovetails and I selt them to three different customers, all shop fitters, for a tidy price. I selt a hundred and twenty-odd tall lab stools to a bar fitter in Glasgow for thirty quid apiece, but I kept the iroko. I think the school had regrets afterwards when someone telt them what the iroko was worth, but that wasn’t my problem. I think they were a sandwich short of a picnic(3) for having the stuff ripped out to replace it with melamine formaldehyde veneered chipboard atop tubular steel framed tables. The only problem with iroko is you need damned good dust extraction to work it because the dust it produces, like a lot of tropical hardwoods is nasty. You really don’t want it in your eyes or your lungs because it can do you serious harm.”

“It sounds just like what I think we’re looking for. I’m not asking for any favours, Alf, because I don’t want to lose any friends either, but what would you be looking for to part with it?”

“The stuff I’ve got is solid. Each piece is a two inch single plank. Iroko work tops that wide and a whisker over inch thick made up of two inch [50mm] strips sell at about two hundred quid a running metre [$80 a foot]. I’ve possibly about a hundred grands’ worth at that price if it were made laminated up from two inch strips, a lot of which would be much lighter in colour and look nowhere near as good as the solid dark stuff I’ve got. Gaudy is the word that springs to mind. Mine is certainly worth twice that. Some of the planks had splits in them when we took ’em out but they’ll glue and clamp so the join can’t be seen. There’re enough pieces to invisibly patch where the lab sinks used to be. I don’t wish to be greedy, but that wood has long been a significant part of my pension plan, so I’m not going to give it away. That little lot could be made to produce at least sixty ten foot [3m] tables or fifty twelve footers [3.65m] if the job were done right. I could have square tube frames with four legs welded up in stainless steel made to fasten to the underneath of the tables by a bloke who only works with stainless and he’s damned good at it. He could make the stainless black in colour with some kind of a heat and chemical treatment rather than an applied surface colour like paint. He could also make ’em so the tables nest.

“Alternatively, I could make any one of several different arrangements in oak or some other European hardwood and stain it to match the iroko. The legs wouldn’t get the wear that the tops would, so that would have an acceptable appearance for at least a century, long after we’re gone anyway. For two hundred and fifty grand I’m prepared to do the entire job and threw in the legs. That’s five grand apiece for fifty twelve and a half foot tables, and that’s gey cheap for wood of the quality they used a century back when that wood was fitted into the school. I’m prepared to sell the lot for that and make up as many tables as it will provide. If as I believe it will it makes made a few more tables I’ll threw them in as part of the deal. The tables will only appreciate in value and they’d be better in the ownership of the Bearthwaite Village Community Ownership Company than the wood is in mine. I’m not pressing you, but you won’t find wood of that quality anywhere today unless you get gey lucky, and you know in advance that if I made ’em they would be of a quality high enough to grace anyone’s dining room.”

“I don’t think Elle would go for the metal legs even if they were black. Any chance of you sketching a few different leg arrangements with stained wooden legs and shewing Elle the iroko?”

“No problem. Bring her down to my workshop. The wood’s stored on the racks over my metal store. I’ll sand and refinish a sample for her to look at.”

“Okay. I’ll do that, but I think I’ll have a word with Sasha first. He’ll maybe want a look first.”

“I doubt it, Pete. He saw the iroko years ago when he was thinking of buying some for window sills. He didn’t buy any because he preferred the teak railway sleepers I had at the time. Now they were a bastard to resaw(4) down to window sill thickness. My bandsaw is an old heavy one with a six inch resaw blade and that cut the teak easily enough, but handling the timbers was a whole different story. I had to lift them onto the saw table with a chain hoist and arrange for in and out feed tables that could take the weight. I have to say his sills look good, and that beeswax polish that Harry’s missus Kathleen makes is perfect to keep them looking that way.”

“How come you’ve still got it, Alf? Haven’t you ever tried to sell it?”

“Yeah. Maybe three years since a bloke from Merseyside offered me two hundred grand for it, but he wanted me to deliver it.”

“So how come you’ve still got it?”

“I didn’t like the bastard. He knew nothing about wood, just that what I had was worth money. He wouldn’t explain how he’d heard I’d got it, so I didn’t trust him either, and there was no way I was taking a cargo worth that kind of money anywhere near Liverpool. You know what they say, ‘What do you call a scouser(5) in a suit? The accused.’(6) Even if he’d brought his own waggon I’d still have fucked him off just because I didn’t like him.”

Pete smiled. Alf was Alf, and had his own way of seeing the world. He was one of the most generous folk Pete had ever come across, but he also had a core of steel and didn’t readily change his mind. It was impossible to imagine Alf changing his views about scousers.

Alf looked thoughtful as he continued, “If I selt it to a commercial outfit they slice it all up into one inch strips, turn ’em sideways and reglue them into slabs a inch thick. They’d get vanya(7) twice as much table top doing that, but it would be criminal to do that to what is absolutely beautiful wood. ” Alf shook his head and shuddered at what was clearly a heinous thought to him. “Far better it stays here to be appreciated as two inch tables in the Community Centre. I’ll work out some way to personalise a table for Elle.”

~o~O~o~

It was early Saturday evening, and the taproom of the Green Dragon Bearthwaite was filling rapidly. There was water pooling of underneath the rows of overcoats and hat racks. There were no umbrellas draining as Bearthwaite men considered their use to be as effeminate as drinking from a half pint glass or carrying flowers, unless of course they were grown for sale or for their womenfolk to decorate the church with. The piles of steaming dogs vying for position in front of the fires gave the air a decidedly doggy smell. “Damn you, Tolly,” was heard as Frank a retired shepherd cursed his border collie for covering him with rain as the long rough coated, black and white dog shook the water off himself soaking Frank and a few others nearby too. “Sorry about that lads. Let me get a few in by way of an apology,” Frank said.

“Nay need for the apology, Frank. I don’t like my old bones getting soaked, and I don’t suppose Tolly does any more than I do. Getting on too like us all ain’t he, but I’ll take you up on the pint. Eric reached down to scratch behind Tolly’s ears saying, “Good lad, Tol, you get in there with the others in the warm.” Wagging his tail Tolly licked Eric’s hand and did as he’d been telt wriggling in for a place twixt two other somewhat more active and younger sheepdogs. “Clever bugger ain’t he, Frank?” Eric said watching the sagacious dog finally end up with his nose on the fender.

“Aye. They’re clever as a breed, but in his day Tolly was the best I ever worked. Meg as I lost a couple of year back and Tolly were a fair canny pair working ’em down from the tops(8) to bring ’em in for lambing, sheering or tecking(9) to market, and they were unequalled for cutting what I wanted out of a flock before penning the rest. I reckon we both still miss Meg; she was Tolly’s dam. Like me Tolly’s got rheumatism these days. I still teck him down to Peabody’s place to help out at sheering. Truth is Alex doesn’t need him, but it makes Tolly happy to do a bit. Aggie says the old dog needs to keep doing to keep his mind active, and I don’t think she was talking about Tolly. She’s going buy me a pup when one of the right breeding is available. That’s serious money we’re talking, so God knows where she’ll get the cash from. The kids have said come the day they’ll always look after my dogs, so I suspect they’re putting their hands deep in their pockets to help her out. Harriet love, put a packet of crisps [US chips] in a dish for Tolly please, will you, Pet? Look at that Eric, his ears are up. He heard his name and the word crisps. He’ll get up in a second to go to Harriet for ’em.”

Eric smiled as Tolly shook the other dogs off him and went to the doorway waiting for Harriet. It was true Tolly was bright even for a border collie, but Frank had been a byword as a sheepdog trainer and handler for his entire working life, even before he left school working shepherds regarded him with respect. He had the endless patience required and shepherds still spoke in awe of the so called useless dogs rejected by other shepherds he’d acquired for next to nothing and turned into sheepdog trials champions. Tolly like all his breed was friendly, but in his eyes Frank was God. Even Aggie when out at odds with Frank had been know to snap occasionally, “His bloody dogs mean more to my old man than I do.” However, once domestic harmony had been restored she usually added, “It’s not surprising. For every hour he’s spent in my company he’s spent endless days and nights up on the fells with only his dogs for company. His family have been shepherds for ever, and the blood run true in my Frank for sure. It makes both of us happy that Harmon and Vinny are tecking it forward. As long as those two are breathing my Frank will never die.” Harmon was Aggie’s second son and like his eldest boy Vinny both were working shepherds spending most of their lives on the fells.

As Harriet put the dish down, Tolly looked at Frank for permission, and only when Frank said, “Go on, Lad. They’re for you,” did he start eating.

~o~O~o~

Tony was waiting at the bar to be served having just walked in and he was recounting his holiday the week before. “We went to Scotland skiing last week for five days. We only got back at midnight last night. It’s cheap at the moment with the kids back at school, and there weren’t too many folk about. We had a really good time and will definitely go there again. The hotel was out in the middle of nowhere and the wildlife was amazing, red squirrels all over the place and the deer were fed hay nearby and I took some really good photos from less than twenty metres.[ 60 feet]. I took loads of photos of birds I’d never seen before that I’ll have to look up to identify. We were making our way back to the hotel in the gloam on Tuesday when Beth pointed out a pure white weasel that was really hard to make out against the snow. Mind, maybe it was a stoat. I can’t tell the difference, but this one was pure white all over, which I’ve never heard of before.”

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, you need to take a bit of notice of the countryside. You ex-townies need to know there’s no similarity between the two at all. They’re stoatally different and so weasily distinguishable!”

“Hellfire, Alf, that’s so old the hairs on its arse have dropped off due to baldness!”

“Yeah, I know, Stan, but the old ones are the gold ones, and I couldn’t stop myself. Just for the record, Tony, it was a stoat in its winter colours and they’re referred to as ermine. They moult and their coat changes colour according to the season. Technically the species is ermine whether in winter or summer colours, but stoat is a common name for them in many places when in summer colours.”

“How do you know that, Alf? I didn’t know you were into wildlife too.”

“I’m not really, Stan, but I had a pair when I was a boy and used them just like ferrets. Granddad Winstanley bought them off a bloke in Penrith when they were little and gave them to me for my tenth birthday. They were friendly enough with me and gey tame, but they were feisty little buggers with any one else. Damned good at working coneys though. I spent many an afternoon when I should have been in school providing us all with a decent meal, and I selt a goodly few to Vincent’s dad too for the odd shilling.”(10)

“I remember those beasties, Alf. I’ve still got the teeth marks on one of my fingers, but Dad was always glad to see you. There were a few lads at that time who had ferrets and selt him coneys which has always been a popular here. I buy ’em off the kids too whenever I’m offered any and I don’t think I’ve ever had one in the window for as long a two hours before someone bought it. My best supplier is Olivia Gerry’s nine year old granddaughter. She’s that keen she takes her ferrets to school and works ’em during her lunch time too. Dad always said you were his best supplier.” Vincent shrugged and added, “Probably because you didn’t bother going to school if you could think of something better to do, which was never more than five days a week.” There was deal of laughter at Vincent’s remark, which although an exaggeration had more than a grain of truth in it.

Alf laught and said, “Okay, Lads, just because I got that one in, which I’ll admit is well older than I am, I’ll stand a round. Tell Pete what you want. On my slate, Lass.”

Alf’s last remark was addressed to Harriet who replied with a smile, “I’ll put them down to your slate, Uncle Alfred, but Gustav telt me days ago that your next shout was down to him for sorting the clutch on his truck as an emergency job.”

Anthony said with a smile, “Harriet Love, that chestnut(11) maybe old, but it fit so well even if Alf was taking the mick(12) out of me, I’ll stand for half of it.”

Tony was amazed and secretly proud when Harriet replied, “Okay, Uncle Anthony, I’ll deal with the reckoning.” She’d never referred to him as Uncle before. He was aware that though he was only ten or so years older than Harriet it was a significant sign of respect that the local men wouldn’t have missed and they would now accept him as one of themselves. He wondered what the possibilities were of himself and Beth moving to Bearthwaite and making a living as dentists there. He was not interested in making a fortune as he once was, rather he was interested in creating a good future for himself and Beth and their future family that they’d just made a start on, and Bearthwaite was a good place to rear kids. If he ended up as a part time dentist and doing something else, preferably something creative with his hands, in order to make a living that would not just be okay that would be excellent. There were many clever professionals in Bearthwaite who lived that way, so he wouldn’t be breaking new ground. He’d have a talk with Beth about it in the car on the way home. He smiled to himself thinking that the odds were she’d been thinking that way for a long time and was just waiting for him to catch up with her. Given that Beth was two months pregnant, if they wanted a home in Bearthwaite before the baby arrived he needed to be doing something about it soon. He decided the best thing to do was to have a word with Sasha.

~o~O~o~

Freddy pushed his beer glass forward and said, “If someone will refill that I’ve a short one that was quite funny at the time.” Five minute later after a number of glasses had been replenished, Frank began. “The other day I was looking for some old eight by four three-quarter inch exterior shuttering ply sheets. I’ve had them for years. I bought them new years ago for twelve quid a sheet, so that tells you how long I’ve had them because they’re over forty quid a sheet these days. I know they’re all metric now a days but that’s still how I think of them. Twenty four hundred by twelve hundred at eighteen mil thick doesn’t actually mean anything to me. I wanted two sheets to cut in half to make a four foot cube to use as a coal bunker. Godfrey came round to cadge some three inch screws for a job he was doing and stayed for a mug of tea and some craic. He was giving me a hand ratching through a pile of sheet materials and he asked me, ‘What about this one, Freddy?’ I replied, ‘Iffy on the edge.’

“When Godfrey started laughing I asked what was so funny. ‘Iffy on the Edge. It was the way you said it. It sounded like one of those fictitious villages on those old BBC radio comedy shows in the fifties and sixties. You know Much Binding on the Marsh and Rough on the Whole.’

“I suppose it doesn’t take much to keep either of us amused. We spent the rest of the afternoon recalling and inventing names for villages and the folk who lived in them. Some of them were decidedly not to be mentioned in mixed company, but it passed the afternoon and at the end of it I had a new coal bunker.”

“Names of what like? The rude ones I mean. Anything I can use in a tale of the new truth?”

“I’ve forgotten most of them already, Dave, but Warrington Minge springs to mind as a name I heard many years ago, Peter Sellers on the Goon Show I think.”

“Christ! I remember that, but it’s a gey long while back.”

Dave laught and said “Aye I know, Vincent, ain’t it just, but there are a few clips on Youtube of that sort of stuff. Look ’em up. If you remember any more of those villages and folk make a note of ’em for me will you, Freddy?”

“Sure. I’ve always liked your tales, Dave, so I’ll be glad to. I’ll have a word with Godfrey to find out what he can call to mind.”

~o~O~o~

Pete had finished pulling pints whilst Gustav washed glasses and looking round the taproom he asked, “You ready to go, Liam? Or shall we pass the chemic round before you start?”

“I’ll have some of that Calvados, Pete, before I start.”

A number of men expressed similar desires and it was a few minutes before Liam started telling his tale. “I mind when I was teaching we had a young and rather naïve French lass naturally enough teaching French. Her English was certainly better than that of some of the staff born and bred in the UK. However her grasp of the Cumbrian dialectal version of English was decidedly lacking. One day in the staffroom she asked, ‘What’s a penneh?’ There was some puzzlement till she gave her question some context. Apparently she was regularly being asked by the kids, ‘Borrow us a pen, eh?’ She clearly hadn’t understood the Cumbrian practice of ending every question and a lot of statements too with, ‘eh?’ She did grasp that it was a request to be lent a pen, though I’m not sure she understood the explanation, or that to many Cumbrians and virtually all Cumbrian children the verbs to lend and to borrow were interchangeable though the selection of which to use was hardly random since the kids chose the wrong one most of the time. They had similar problems with to learn and to teach and invariably used us in place of me. Whilst over here she’d met and married an English civil engineer who spoke fluent French. I can’t say I was surprised when she handed her notice in when her first babe was a twelve month old. She was already having her second and they moved to France. The kids even then were becoming unmanageable and senior management didn’t do anything effective about it. They certainly didn’t provide any support for abused staff. She telt me she had accepted a job at the school she’d attended. It was in a decent area with well behaved kids eager to learn and the school had a crèche. Her husband had been given a transfer to France working for the same firm that currently employed him. That must have been a no brainer, eh?”

There were roars of laughter at Liam’s inclusion of ‘eh?’ after his question.

~o~O~o~

As the men looked around to see if there were any volunteers to continue after Liam had clearly finished, Francis took a goodly pull on his pint and said, “Adele hit the deck at Lidl last week. Fortunately there was a lass there who said she was a nurse to help me get her into the Land Rover which is a bit on the high side to lift some one into. Luckily she hadn’t hurt herself, it was her leg that had given way under her. Adele is a big lass and I haven’t been strong enough to lift her up for a few years now. The nurse wanted to call an ambulance or have me take her to A&E,(13) but Adele wouldn’t entertain either. No surprises there. A couple of days later it happened again outside the coöp, and again a couple of folk helped me get her in the car and Adele wouldn’t even get an appointment with our GP.(14) I don’t know where we go from here, but as I suspect many of you already know, I put the word out, and I’ve now got a collection of sticks including one that branches out into four for increased stability, two zimmers,(15) one of which has wheels, a stroller with a seat, room for some shopping and brakes on the handles and a wheelchair to boot. You can barely get into the spare bedroom.

“Adele wants me to donate them to the clinic the nurses run in the Community Centre so that any who needs them has access to them. I suppose it would be a good idea if we all did that with any stuff we don’t need any more, after all if the need returns we can just go and get whatever we need. The reason I’m telling this tale is I heard that there’s a fortune’s worth of unwanted, unused stuff like that in public circulation because the NHS(16) no longer has a mechanism to accept them back, and folk are reluctant to threw the stuff away. Apparently charity shops won’t accept them because there was a tale of one prosecuted for stealing a donated NHS wheelchair a few years ago. I think the issue was they were selling it. Since they exist to raise money, not unreasonably if they can’t sell something they don’t want it. Maybe we can lay our hands on some of those things that folk would be glad to see go to a good home, at least enough to cover any possible future needs of Bearthwaite folk. I was telt that anything returned to the NHS has to be cleaned and sterilised before it can be reissued and due to budget cuts they no longer have the staff to do that. Mental! Anyway, the good thing is Adele seems to have been okay since her second fall. Well, okay enough to be drinking and gossiping with the other lasses in the room at any event.”

“That’s a good idea about collecting crutches and the like for the clinic, Francis. I’ll have Karen look into it.” There were murmurs of agreement with Geoff, whose wife Karen was a retired nurse who played a major rôle in the Bearthwaite health clinic that was located in the Community Centre. Other folks’ waste could often be turned to advantage by the Bearthwaite folk. The NHS may no longer be able to pay staff to sanitise returned equipment, but the job would be done at Bearthwaite because none would expect to be paid for it. Too, it was the sort of thing Bearthwaite children and teens did purely to contribute and to be seen to be doing so by their elders which enhanced their status and perceived maturity, and of course they had fun when a group of them were involved.

~o~O~o~

As Eric munched on the contents of a bag of salted sweet chestnuts that were a Green Dragon speciality prepared by Aggie from either local nuts collected by the children who selt them for pocket money or from imported Spanish ones bought direct off the internet by the quarter tonne, [250Kg, 550 pounds] he looked around to see if folk were ready for him to begin. Several men were still visiting the gents, so he waited till all were seated before commencing. “We’d had some kind of a critter living under the floor in the front room for a few weeks. Shauna said since the little bugger wasn’t paying any rent it had to be evicted. As I’d expected Shauna said critter catching was man’s work and that I’d better get on with it. The floor is concrete, but laid on that is a tarred building paper waterproof barrier to protect the wooden three by twos from any damp. The three by twos have expanded polystyrene insulation sheet laid between them. On top of that is a wooden floor of tongue and groove oak put down with secret nailing,(17) so there was no easy way of getting at the damned thing. I didn’t think it was a mouse because it made so much noise. At the side of the fire is an alcove and the oak flooring doesn’t go all the way to the back. There’s a six inch gap that the damned beastie kept filling with chewed up polystyrene.

“I wondered what it was living on, for there’s no nourishment in insulation sheet not even for a rat if that’s what it were. The two cats are old now and couldn’t be bothered with it, so it was down to a trap. I had some mouse traps and thought I’d try those before I bought a rat trap. I baited the trap with a piece of dried cat food, but it was still there after a fortnight. Next I tried one of the expensive cat treats. I went outside to do a bit of gardening and a couple of hours later when I went back into the house for a cup of tea one of the cats was interested in the gap at the back of the alcove where I’d set the trap because I reckoned the critter would have to exit that way to find food. Took me nigh on three weeks to catch the little sod, but they say God rewards the patient and diligent with success. Since the little bugger wouldn’t eat cat food, but the treats did the trick it was obviously an upper class mouse. I reckoned the least I could do was to give it a decent send off, so I cremated it on the front room fire. It wasn’t a big mouse, so I wondered if there were more than one of them, but there’s been no noise under the floor since then and no chewed up polystyrene either.”

Pete said, “It’s what happens when you live out in the sticks, Eric. Mostly it’s just mice coming in at the back end when it gets cold. Still at least it’s just mice. In the towns and cities it’s rats that move in and that can happen all year round. Stupid idiots should deal with their refuse better, because no refuse means no rats which means no rats going into houses. Still what do we know? We deal with all our refuse properly and encourage and reward the kids who go ratting with the dogs of a weekend. How deep are the composting pits for compostable household waste on the allotments, Alf?”

“How would I know. Ask Tony. He’s the machine driver who digs ’em.”

Tony grinned and said, “Fourteen foot, Pete. It’s as deep as I can reach. I’ve noticed the worms go that deep now. When the one in use is four foot short of full one of the local farmers tops it up with shite for me and when it’s sunk a bit I level it off before digging another. Give it another few years and there’ll be fourteen foot of topsoil down there. Give it a generation and they’ll be growing pumpkins you can hollow and rent out as bedsits.” There was a lot of laughter at that but there was some truth in Tony’s remarks about the soil on the allotment plots. For decades unused plots had been used as sites for the waste trenches. Once filled and levelled another was dug out. Existing plot holders moved onto one of the enriched plots and their old one eventually was dug out to be used in turn. It was a few years since Tony had been digging out plots that had been dug out before probably half a century ago. No trace of household waste remained; the worms had done their job. As Tony put it, “I just provide the opportunity for the wormy chappies and chappesses to have a party. After the feast comes the orgy and lots of little baby wormy chappies and chappesses ready to continue the party. They’re the ones that actually do all the work.”

~o~O~o~

Harriet entered the taproom with her pails of water and kibble for the dogs dishes and announced, “Supper will be on the tables in twenty minutes. Battered cod, chips [US fries] and mushy marrowfat peas tonight. Don’t worry, Uncle Alf, when you see the size of the portion of chips on your plate. There are so many here tonight we’re having to cook the chips in two batches. You’ll all have a half portion to be going on with whilst the second batch finishes cooking and we’ll serve those a few minutes later. I’m going to order another chip fryer first thing tomorrow, so this won’t happen again. Veronica said to tell you that for the sophisticated there is home made tartare sauce to go with the cod and for the philistines there is gravy to go with the chips, which I guess makes me a philistine. If anyone wants a couple of slices of bread and butter to go with it tell Dad and as soon as I know how much bread needs buttering we’ll deal with it. Veronica is buttering bread at the moment. To any of you who don’t know we only use bread baked down at the mill and butter locally produced by Alan Peabody’s dairy in this establishment. We don’t have anything to do with any of the healthy alternative spreads, so it’s full fat or nowt.(18)

“For pudding there is rhubarb crumble and custard. The rhubarb is locally grown and was canned by Christine especially for us earlier in the year, and we have a plentiful supply of it. It’s main crop rhubarb, not the forced early rhubarb that was canned by Aggie much earlier in the year which there won’t be any more of till next year’s crop is available. The crumble contains rolled oats and the mixture was blended for us with mixed grain flours by Auntie Alice at the mill specially for making crumble with. If you like it let your wives know that Auntie Lucy is selling it at the grocers. We added the spice in the kitchen. Comments would be gratefully received especially concerning the clove content. Christine has agreed to do a lot more canning for us mostly of things that produce gluts for the allotment folk, apples, rhubarb and other fruit and vegetables too. In order to meet all her commitments and continue to supply Auntie Lucy in the grocers as well as supply us, so that we can source even more locally rather than having to buy from outside she is looking for an apprentice canner. It would possibly suit a girl or a boy not looking to continue education at college after leaving school, so she asked that the word be passed around. The wind has eased and changed direction. It’s now blowing away from the back door, so I’ll leave it open for quarter of an hour for the dogs. I’d be obliged if someone will check that it is closed it in a bit in case I become too busy and forget.”

“I’ll see to it, Harriet.”

“Okay. Thanks, Uncle Barry.”

~o~O~o~

It was no surprise to the men that Alice had blended the crumble mix, for they’d been discussing it earlier with Phil her husband, however, it was a surprise that Christine had canned the rhubarb. Christine was a small scale professional canner of all sorts of foods that usually were selt via Dave and Lucy’s village store, but it appeared that was one more thing that was changing for the better. As a result of the Covid Christine had lost her job in a hotel in Carlisle and had turned what had been a domestic kitchen activity into something that provided her with a reasonable income. Alf’s grandson Bertie had modified a commercial pressure vessel originally intended for sterilising operating theatre surgical instruments into a pressure canner of considerable capacity. At five feet in diameter and two feet deep it could take hundreds of Kilner jars [US Mason jars] at once and it’s operation was completely automatic thanks to Bertie and Pat the local electronics guru. It was widely spoken of that whilst none would ever have wished Covid on any, the consequences of having to reëvalute and change the way they did things and the subsequent improvements in their lives were agreed to be very positive things. Everyone knew that anything that eased gluts on the allotments was a good thing for the entire Bearthwaite population. When it was time to lift the maincrop potatoes several hundred men and their sons went down to the allotments to help lift, bag and load the sacks onto farm trailers for taking away to a storage barn. The harvesting of many vegetables and fruit picking too were community activities.

For years Aggie had usually had to ask round for help preparing windfall and bruised apples for the freezer that ultimately would be canned to free up much needed freezer space. They had to be processed immediately for unlike the apples picked from the trees they would not keep and the loss of so much food was a serious matter. It hadn’t been unknown for several tons, [several thousand Kg, x 2⅕ in pounds] of fruit or vegetables to have been stored in the freezers and chillers of Vincent the Bearthwaite butcher as a temporary measure to avoid spoilage till the materials could be processed. The provision of large scale walk in freezer and chiller units was under discussion by the committee of the Bearthwaite Village Community Ownership Company. The committee members were all agreed that it should be done. The sticking point was that there was nowhere suitable to put them. It was considered preferable to utilise existing buildings rather than build something from new and Jacqueline the architect used by Bearthwaite was being consulted concerning modifications required for several potential buildings.

~o~O~o~

After supper once the important matter of the drink had been organised, Gerry asked, “Have you noticed that everything you buy is replaced by a newer model at regular and frequent intervals and the latest version is always designed with loads of extra features as a selling ploy, features that nobody actually uses. Mobile phones, cars, washing machines in fact all kitchen appliances and all of the iPad, iPod type devices, not that I’d know the difference. It’s all just a ploy to part you from your hard earnt money in exchange for nowt you’ll ever use. And to add insult to injury if you have a problem with any of those gadgets the customer support will tell you, ‘I’m sorry, Sir, but that model is no longer supported.’ What they really mean is hand over your cash for a new one. Bastards!”

“It is all deliberate, Gerry, and often was carefully planned before the product was even launched. Marketing is a highly developed discipline, and many if not most universities offer it as a degree level subject. Lecturers and others in the field refer to something they call ‘The Product Life Cycle’ which is a series of steps, that goes as follows: development, introduction, growth, maturity, saturation and decline. Some of them ignore development and decline, but the introduction of models with the addition of extra features, whether of any use to the market or not, is considered to be a vital part of the marketing strategy for a product, especially from the growth phase onwards. Marketing is a highly developed art to separate folk from their money, and it’s part of many different disciplines.

“Most supermarket management have studied a course heavy with marketing components. The placement of goods in a store is deliberate. The products most folk buy regularly, staples like bread, milk and the like, are always placed in inconvenient places you wouldn’t otherwise go to to make you walk past other stuff to enable you to impulse buy it. Often milk is right at the back of a store. Same with toilet rolls, feminine hygiene products and babies’ nappies, folk have to have them and will go out of their way to get to them, so they put them well out of the way surrounded by washing machine and dishwasher supplies, again things folk don’t need persuading to buy. Products they want you to look at are immediately visible at eye level down to just above waist level, they call that the grab zone, and they make you reach up or down for products you would probably buy anyway without any persuading.

“When all the goods change place in the supermarket you usually use it’s a deliberate change to make you look for what you want and discover other products whilst doing so. They do it periodically to make your previous knowledge of where everything you normally buy is to be found redundant. It prevents you shopping on auto pilot and just going straight to the products you want. They know it irritates you, so they don’t do it too often in case it irritates you so much you start shopping elsewhere, and they already know exactly how frequently they can get away with it. Toys and sweets are where kids can see them, and all that stuff they sell near the till [US checkout] is there to tempt you to buy it whilst waiting to pay. Got a store loyalty card? Ever wondered why they don’t just reduce their prices. It’s so they have data on what you buy and can target you with promotions likely to induce you to get your credit card out. It’s all damned clever.”

“How the hell do you know all that, Will? I thought you were an ambulance paramedic.”

I am, Gerry, but Carolyne is a supermarket manager and has a degree in retail marketing. She’s worked for all of the major supermarkets over the years and currently works for Tesco, so I’ve learnt a load about their devious tricks over the years.”

~o~O~o~

Pete announced, “Most of us know Jeremy, but for his second time he’s providing the entertainment. Okay, Jeremy, have at it, Lad.”

“I’m Jeremy Caldbeck. As many of you know I’m a chef and I own a small restaurante out Kendal way. I do a lot of cooking at home too because I enjoy it, and occasionally I come across something I can put on the restaurante menu. I particularly enjoy cooking oriental foods, Japanese, Chinese of many styles, Thai, and many others. Maybe a month and a half back, I started watching a lass on Youtube who’d created a series of twelve videos on making dough, and there’s a lot more to it than I’d ever imagined. She takes total control of everything, water to flour ratio, water temperature, yeast both quantity and how you let it develop, sugar content, oil content, salt content, resting times and cycles and in some cases she makes two different doughs and mixes then to combine their properties. The doughs range from a gluey sticky almost pourable stuff you can barely work with to a hard, dry, mass that’s really difficult to knead. Depending on what kind of dough she’s making she uses her hands, a food mixer and a pasta machine too sometimes. She explains exactly why she does each step and explains what it does to the structure of the flour and the gluten in it. Trouble is she only speaks Mandarin and the subtitles are often a bit dodgy. To start with her graphs and diagrams and the few cookery terms I recognised in Mandarin were a great help. I understand a lot more now.

“Like I said, I also watch a lot of other food and cookery content. I have also become interested in Chinese historical dramas and some more modern Chinese TV programs that are on Youtube too. Some have subtitles, but most don’t. A while back I decided it would be helpful if I learnt Mandarin. The script isn’t too bad to learn. There are a lot of symbols, but you can get by with a relatively limited number of them, most of the Chinese do just that, they are not fully literate in that there is a lot of the written language they don’t understand because they don’t need to understand it. It’s a lot easier to understand spoken Mandarin than it is to speak it because changing the pitch of the same words means they actually become different words and depending who you listen to there are three, four or five different pitch sounds.

“I don’t just listen to videos in Mandarin I use some of the free Mandarin instruction videos. There are dictionary sites where you can filter for a given set of words and see them written and hear a variety of speakers from different provinces pronounce them in their own accent. I started with cookery terms, weights and measures, ingredient names and that sort of thing. Then I went on to telling the time, the calendar and body parts and I’m on names of relatives at the moment, and that is well hard.

“In some European languages there are finer subdivisions of relatives than English has. French for example has cousin spelt the way we do, but that only refers to male cousins. In the case of female cousins the French word has an e on the end which changes the way it’s pronounced. I believe it’s similar in German. Scandinavian languages have different words for paternal grandparents and maternal grandparents that’re rather clever. Mor refers to mother and far refers to father, so you have mormor, morfar, which are you mother’s mother and father respectively and farmor and farfar which are you father’s mother and father respectively.

“It goes to a whole new level in Mandarin. Older brothers and their in laws have different words from the one used for younger brothers and theirs, different words again again for older and younger sisters’ in laws. Again uncles are different if they’re mother’s older or younger siblings and there are different words again for father’s side of the family. By the time I was looking at grandparents and their siblings the situation was totally out of control and my brain was out of breath and needed a rest. I haven’t even looked at it from the in laws’ perspectives yet, but I believe there are words for two unrelated blokes who married a pair of sisters, two unrelated lasses who married a pair of brothers and other words for those who married a brother sister sibling pair. The words depend on who married the elder or the younger or the male or the female sibling. You only understand how it came about when you understand that disobeying any family member defined as being a member of the generations above you is considered unfilial and for millennia was a serious criminal offence. I don’t know if it still is, but doing what your elders tell you is deeply ingrained into the Chinese psyche. It’s fascinating even if it is hard.”

“You’re seriously telling us that you’re doing all that learning just to cook chicken chow mien, Jeremy‽ Just get a book written in English, Lad. My missus would lend you one if you’re strapped for the cash.” Pat’s words caused gales of laughter. All knew that was not the issue, but they were up for the laugh anyway.

Jeremy laught with the others, but clearly he had not finished. “The whole thing made me remember and understand an incident that happened years ago that I didn’t understand properly at the time and though I meant to find out about I never did. I was dining at a rather expensive restaurante with my wife Lizzie, my sister in law, Carrie Lizzie’s sister and her husband Lizzie’s brother in law, Roaul. To make sure you understand that, Roaul and I married a pair of sisters and that is our only relationship. Roaul is Roaul Rodriguez the Portuguese fado singer, and he and Carrie were paying as a celebration of his highly successful recent solo album release. He is a wealthy man, but it wasn’t about the money it was about his success as an artist.

“I like the bloke, we get on really well and have a common interest in HO scale model trains. The first time I saw his huge layout I was amazed, amazed and impressed. I kind of specialise in detailing scenery and Roaul was impressed by that. I gave him a hand painted section of urban back drop that included an old gas and coke works and some low relief buildings along with a couple of gasometers I’d scratch built to go in front of it for Christmas, and his delight was clear. He gave me two huge cardboard boxes full of scenery bits and pieces, paints and various other materials. Some were new, but most were second hand including a load of broken stuff that was ideal for the kind of things I enjoy making. His gift to me of broken bits and pieces, which included left over parts and sprues from Airfix® kit models, other kits too, models with bits missing, scraps of various types of textured paper and card, damaged small scale figures of people and animals, and a lot of other toy shop ‘rubbish’ that on the face of it had no relevance to model trains would perhaps to many have been an insult, but to me they were the best gift he could have given me, a treasure trove of pure gold, and I was equally delighted.

“He telt me, ‘I scoured toy shops, junk shops, street markets and charity shops on three continents to find that little lot, Jeremy. Most thought I was mad for taking all their rubbish away, and I considered threwing some of it away, but then I decided you’d probably be able to do something with at least most of it and included a selection of super glues to go with them. I have to say it was fun, it let me escape the persons who think they should control my life and I found a fair few things to suit my layout at the same time.’ He laught and added, “And you can always make something with the boxes.’ I did eventually and gave him the multi storey car park and aircraft hanger I’d made out of them. That Christmas Lizzie and Carrie smiled indulgently as the ‘boy’s discussed their ‘new toys’.

“Roaul is from Maputo that used to be Lourenço Marques in Mozambique and looks typically Portuguese, which accounts for most of his ancestry, but he has some African heritage too which is clear from his very dark skin. The evening in question we were dining at an expensive independent Victorian hotel in the middle of Chester called the Griffin Hotel that served excellent food. We had finished dinner and were enjoying a chat over coffee, the sisters were talking clothes and shopping, Roaul and I were talking tunnels and track side paraphernalia, when a man who had clearly had too much to drink came over to our table and started harassing Carrie and making racially bigoted remarks about Roaul. ‘Come with me and I’ll shew what a real man, a white man. can do for you. Ditch the monkey and we’ll have a good time,’ were the least of it, and the word nigger was heard by all present several times.

“The hotel staff were moving towards the idiot and the manager was telling him to go before the police arrived, but the fool wasn’t having any of it. Roaul hadn’t reacted till the bloke grabbed hold of Carrie by the arm. Then Roaul pushed him away from Carrie and put himself between her and the drunk. The drunk staggered back and stumbled against the carvery. He put his hand out to avoid falling and when he stood up he had a long knife from the carvery in his right hand. At that point everyone stood back except myself and Roaul who smiled and said, ‘Come on, little man, let’s see what you’re made of, or is it only the knife in your hand that makes you feel big.’ The drunk was over six foot tall though not of a heavy build, and Roaul is at most five foot six, but he is build like a tank. He was deliberately goading the bloke who rushed at him with the knife. Roaul stepped to one side and simply kicked his feet out from under him as he went past. Unfortunately the man fell on the knife. He didn’t die, but he needed surgery, fifteen stitches and blood transfusions. The police arrived and an ambulance took the drunk away.

“We spent the next few hours, along with a load of other folk from the hotel both staff and customers, in the cop shop being questioned and having statements taken. As far as the police were concerned that was it. The CCTV footage was crystal clear and the score or more witness statements concurred with the footage. There was no question of Roaul being prosecuted. Or so we thought. The drunk took out a private prosecution against Roaul for grievous wounding I think it was. Anyway we and a load of other folk were in court as witnesses. Even I could see the bloke was on a hiding to nothing, but despite the evidence his barrister was not for giving up. I was flummoxed when he started cross examining my evidence by questioning me as to my exact relationship to Roaul. This is where the connection to me learning Mandarin comes in. The bloke’s barrister was seemingly trying to establish that since Roaul and I were related I was naturally lying to protect him and that since I was the only witness who was really close to the incident the others could have been mistaken as to what they had seen. He conveniently ignored the CCTV footage by saying it was from a camera that only had an oblique view.

Roaul’s barrister was a small Chinese looking woman called Xu Chin Li, or something like that, it’s a long time ago and I don’t remember her exact name. I replied we were unrelated, but the barrister continued to have a go at me. Xu Chin Li objected and asked the judge was it not true that the matter was being looked at under English law. The judge asked her what was the exact point she was trying to establish. She said that English law was clear, and it said that though we had married a pair of sisters we were neither biologically nor legally related. She quoted several precedents that established that and said that we would be legally related were we Chinese and the case were being heard under Chinese law, but since neither were the case she couldn’t see the relevance of what her esteemed colleague seemed to be trying to establish. The judge telt the opposition barrister that the law was the law and Xu Chin Li was correct in that English law said we were not related. He suggested that the other barrister ceased that line of questioning because it looked like he was to create false evidence and should he believe that to be the case he would hold him in contempt of court. Xu Chin Li did say the Mandarin words for the relationship Roaul and I had but I don’t remember them. I know it was words not word which confused me at the time. I now know our relationships are not reciprocal because I married the elder sister. Doubtless I’ll discover them soon.”

Sasha remarked, “I am aware of the complexities of Chinese familial relationships because a little of that has established itself in parts of southern Siberia. I don’t have any understanding of it myself. However, you are a keen HO scale modeller you say. That would be one in eighty-seven scale would it not?”

Jeremy nodded, and said, “On sixteen point five millimetre gauge track. OO is more common in the UK. It uses the same track, but at a scale of one in seventy-six it’s a little over size. I use some OO things for right at the front of my layout. It helps to give a sense of perspective.”

“Would you have any interest in starting a Bearthwaite model railway club based in one of our larger unused buildings, for if you were I’d be willing to have the building completely refurbished appropriately. I’m thinking of the second floor [US 3rd floor] of a warehouse that we shall wish to use the ground floor [US 1st floor]of for chilled and frozen food storage. We had not decided to use the building, for there would be a lot of expense and we had no projected use for the upper two floors, however if you accept my offer that casts the matter in a different light. There is of the order of a thousand square metres which should give you all something to get your teeth into. There is little for some of our children to do here in the winters and wet springs and such an enterprise would be of great interest to both our boys and our girls. My wife and I would be delighted to host your sister in law and her husband whatever his relationship is to you for however long they could spare.”

“I would certainly be interested in discussing the matter, Sasha, but have you any idea of how much planning and money that would take to even make a start on it?”

“I have no idea, Jeremy, but I’m sure you’d have plenty of help with the planning. As to the money don’t worry yourself about it. I’ve no idea what Roaul is worth, but I doubt it is a fraction of myself and Elle’s resources. This would be a worthwhile enterprise for our children, and I’m sure most of Bearthwaite would give you as much help and support as any could wish for. We’ll talk more later of this and other things too.”

~o~O~o~

Sensing a change of conversation was required Vincent asked, “So how’s married life suiting you, Chance?”

“To be honest I don’t actually know, Vincent. I do know if I don’t take some time off work Stephanie is going to give me some serious grief, because I hardly see the kids these days. I’m gone before they awake and they’re asleep when I finally arrive home. I’m just grateful they’ve got a mum they love who loves them, because I’m not being much of a dad at the moment. The three of us are trying to get matters to do with the Bearthwaite Property Developments Company and the Bearthwaite Village Community Ownership Company organised somewhat better. I’ve had all the invoices and that kind of paperwork sorted out for a week now, but what’s left is more complicated. I think we need to simplify our taxation calculation mechanism. Murray and Emily agree, but we’ll not manage to do it this side of the new year. We’ll probably end up merging the two concerns due to the complications caused by buying all the old properties and the land too. Murray says he’s tired and needs to put less hours in. Emily only has a month to go before she gives birth and she has a young family that need her time, but I have a young family that need their dad too. Things will become a lot easier once Adalheidis is ready to start work because even the semi legal stuff is beyond all of us, so it has to get left which slows a lot of other paper work down.

“Murray is looking for an office junior to help us out with all the paperwork generated by Alf, and the Levins brothers as a result of the refurbishment of the houses behind the old allotments site, and I wondered if we could steal Adalheidis from you, Gustav. We’ve all agreed she should be paid as a solicitor, but till she acquires her accreditation with the Law Society she can serve as an unofficial legal advisor and do a bit of office junior work with me till we manage to find someone else. I think Murray’s idea is she can start doing the legal work immediately, and instead of her signing it we’ll put the office stamp on it. By the time it’s pointed out and returned she’ll be legally entitled to sign it. Murray is putting the word out and he’s spoken to Elle about it. Till we get some help we’ve decided to only work three days a week each. Some one will be working all five days of the week, but there will probably only be two of us available for most of the time.”

“That does seem a sensible solution, Chance. I could certainly use Adalheidis, but to be honest it would have been a waste of the talents of someone as highly qualified as she. She needed a job and I had a vacancy, but it is better that she works with you three from the beginning. I’ll find someone else. A bright school leaver seeking work experience to put on a CV [Résumé] would be able to do what I require. You finished your tale, Chance?”

“Yes.”

~o~O~o~

Gustav smiled and announced, “Well I have some good news, Gentlemen. His Majesty’s Customs and Excise officers finally granted us our licence to operate a distillery yesterday afternoon. Jean-Claude, for those who don’t know him he is our still master, spent the rest of the day burning up the telephone lines buying whatever cheap poor quality alcoholic brews he could lay his hands on, after having instructed his staff to commence the brewing of our first batch of still feed. His view is we need to make a start as soon as possible to start recovering our investment and I have no problems with that. We didn’t wish to start brewing still feed till we had the licence in case that took even more months to be granted than it already has, for then the still feed would probably have had to be dumped. Jean-Claude telt me unlike wine it doesn’t keep well and tends to oxidise into acetic acid which is an expensive way of making vinegar. As a result he is going to start with wines none else will buy because he can buy them at the right price and start by distilling ultra clean vodka for subsequent flavouring if required. Our first tanker delivery arrives late tomorrow evening or very early the following morning, and the still will be operational as soon as it has been filled. HM C&E will be observing. Dad has suggested we have an open day and any who wish to watch join us for a celebration lunch. Mum is organising the lunch and I’ll provide as many barrels of ale as required. It will be a good day for us and I agree with Dad that a celebration is mandatory. The brewery staff would appreciate some help in the morning setting up tables and the like, so feel free to come down and make an early start on the ale whilst you shift tables.”

The cheers in the taproom were deafening, but eventually the cheers quietened and the conversation resumed. The distillery was a commercial enterprise, and the men’s main interest in it centred around the employment it would provide. Bearthwaite was a small place, but it was becoming, purely as a result of the endeavours of its inhabitants, a much more prosperous place than of yore.

~o~O~o~

“Anyone got anything to say before we get the dominoes out, Lads?” Sasha asked.

Alf said, “Only that I read in the paper that Old Harpic died and was buried last week.”

A number of the men had like Alf been taught physics by the individual mentioned, though he’d been rather more successful with them than with Alf. Vincent said, “He must have been close to ninety, so it’s not surprising.”

“Ninety-three according to the Cumberland News,” Alf said.

“How come you called him Harpic. That couldn’t have been his real name surely,” Doug asked. Doug was an outsider who was a regular Saturday evening attender.

There were howls of laughter from the many men who’d never thought of Harpic by any name other than by his schoolboy provided nickname. Stan explained, “It goes back decades probably the sixties or maybe even the fifties. There was a brand of lavatory cleaner called Harpic in those days.”

“Still is. We sell it,” interrupted Dave the local grocery store owner. “Julie buys it.” Dave was referring to Stan’s wife.

Stan laught and continued, “The TV adverts at the time used the slogan ‘Cleans right round the bend.’ Well Old Harpic taught physics at the secondary school and that description fitted him like a glove. He was decidedly eccentric and definitely clean round the bend.(19) Most of the kids liked him because he was all right. His classrooms were always orderly and peaceful and he wouldn’t tolerate bullying, though I think more than half a century later the kids still talk about the way Alf dealt with bullies when he bothered going to school.”

Doug who knew Alf to be a peaceable man who didn’t approve of violence except under the most exceptional of circumstances asked, “What did Alf do to the bullies?”

Vince replied, “Threw them over the school yard wall. Thing was there was a twenty foot drop the other side of the wall. After that there was the canal and you were far more likely to die from catching something from the water than you were from drowning. That water was absolutely hanging. Chemicals, slime, rotten stuff with the odd dead dog threwn in for good measure. You name it, if it was minging it was in the canal. There was always a film of oil on the top of the water and it stank like something long dead. I have to say it cured the thugs because there was no way they wanted a repeat prescription of Alf’s patent cure for stealing little kids’ dinner money or hurting them.” A number of outsiders looked at the massive frame of Alf who was only an eighth of an inch shy of seven feet tall in his stockinged feet, and Vince added, “He was as big then as he is now, and unless Ellen has him in a suit I’ve never seen his feet in anything other than heavy steelies(20). Even as a kid he always wore steelies.” It was a while before the chuckles entirely ceased at the appropriateness of Alf’s solution to what had been the bane of many of them when at school. Some were still smiling at the thought whilst playing dominoes.

~o~O~o~

Earlier Tony had asked for a word with Sasha when evening was over. He waited till the taproom had emptied, most had gone home and the overnight guests had collected their wives to find their rooms. “You wish this to be just the two of us, Tony? Or is it okay if Pete and Gustav hear what you’ve got to say?”

“Pete and Gustav will be fine but I’d prefer it went no further for a while. Beth is about two and a half months pregnant and we could be looking to move here if we could find a house. I used to want to make a fortune, but now I just want a decent place for us to rear a family. I’d like to continue as a dentist, but if I had to find something else to do as well, preferably something creative using my hands that would make my life even better. I don’t know what Beth will wish to do once she’s a mum. I doubt if she knows. She may think she does, but motherhood changes women, and I don’t have a problem with that. We’ll talk about this on the way home, but I want to know what our chances are of finding a home here before we leave tonight. If we can move here I’d like to do it long before the baby is due.”

The three men were all smiling at Tony, and Pete said, “We will be able to find you a home easily enough, Tony. You are accepted here as the sort of couple who are welcome to live here. I saw you notice my lass referring to you as Uncle Antony. The womenfolk like Beth and doubtless will like her even more when they find out she’s pregnant. The rule we have here is you may not buy a property till you have lived here for a twelve month. Till then you may only rent a property. The rent will be the same as the mortgage would be, so unless you wished to live in a different Bearthwaite home you’ll not notice any difference. The rule is to make sure we don’t have to put up with any undesirables for more than the twelve month and can then get rid of them. I can’t see that happening with you two, but the rule is inflexible. As to employment, a dentist will be welcome here and we’ll see what we can find that has a room you can use as a surgery, or whatever it is dentists have. There’re are any number of other opportunities available here especially if you are okay with being an adult apprentice. As for Beth, the best thing is to do what we all do here.”

“What’s that?”

Gustav laught and replied, “Leave it to the womenfolk, and refuse to become involved. It’s the safe way to survive, and learn to say ‘Yes, Dear’ at any and every opportunity.”

Sasha concluded the conversation by saying, “You talk this over with Beth, Tony, and I’ll have Elle sorting out somewhere appropriate for you to live. Elle is heavily involved with property management in Bearthwaite, both what we have in good repair and what we are in the process of putting into good repair. Don’t worry about selling up before you move because we can cover it. The Bearthwaite Property Developments Company already owns near enough all the empty properties in the valley and is negotiating to buy the rest. That’s one of the companies that all the residents are part owners of. It was formed to enable us to prevent unsuitable folk from buying property here, for we like to be able to get on with all our neighbours.”

~o~O~o~

“Well damn me! Sasha,” Pete said. “That came out of the blue didn’t it? Looks like we get our own dentist, and two of them at that.”

“All we need now are a doctor and an architect,” Gustav added. “Who do we think is going to be best to approach Jacqueline?”

The three men laught, but all left deep in thought.

~o~O~o~

On the way home in the car, Tony telt Beth of his conversation and she was as he had suspected way in front of him and indeed waiting for him to catch up.

“The Bearthwaite women know I am pregnant, Love. It came out in conversation tonight because a couple of them are too, and women share those sorts of things. You want to do this move quickly don’t you?”

“Yes. I’ve been telt we don’t have to sell the business and our house first because we’re well thought of and welcome, and Bearthwaite has mechanisms in place to help folks they regard as one of themselves to ride over things like that, but I’d like us to be settled before you become ungainly enough to make moving a chore for you. What do you think as regards selling the business as is or keeping the equipment and selling the business as a going concern with no equipment?”

“Sell it as is with all the equipment. We’ll start with new stuff and the latest up to date stuff at that. Ask Murray to negotiate a bridging loan for us. I’ll ring Elle tomorrow and see what she has to say about it all. Happy, Love?”

“Yes. Definitely. The prospect of being a part time dentist and a part time apprentice of some sort working with my hands working close to my family in a far better place to be than anywhere else I’ve ever even heard of means life is definitely looking up. You any idea what you’re going to do once you’re a mum?”

“Yes. Part time dentist, part time on the allotments and a full time mum. I reckon that’s doable at Bearthwaite.”

~o~O~o~

1 Spindle moulder, a woodworking machine that uses special tools or blades to cut and shape wood often with a curved profile. Typically used to produce long lengths of wood with a shaped profile like skirtings and architraves.
2 Skirtings, skirting boards, US base boards.
3 A sandwich short of a picnic, simple minded or not quite right in the head.
4 Resawing is the process of slicing timber along the grain direction to reduce it to thinner sections or to make veneers. In simple terms, you are splitting the thickness of the wood to get two thinner slabs.
5 Scouser, a person from Liverpool and its environs. They have a notorious reputation for thievery, which may or may not be deserved. Whether it is or not largely depends on one’s personal point of view.
6 The implication here is that the only reason the person is wearing a suit is to present a better appearance in court.
7 Vanya, almost, nearly.
8 A fair canny pair working ’em down from the tops, a highly intelligent pair bringing sheep down from the hilltops.
9 Tecking, dialectal taking.
10 Shilling, a unit of UK pre decimal currency, equivalent of five pence. [US 7 cents]
11 Chestnut, here used in the sense of an old joke that has become so overused it has become dull and worthy of groans. Also the word is used to signify a trite remark.
12 Taking the mick out of someone is an UK expression for making fun of them.
13 A&E, Accident and Emergency, [US ER Emergency Room].
14 GP, General Practitioner, a family doctor.
15 Zimmer, a walking frame for the infirm.
16 NHS, National Health Service.
17 Secret nailing, a method of nailing tongue and groove boards down at forty five degrees through the tongues that leaves no visible nail heads on the floor surface.
18 Nowt, nothing.
19 Clean round the bend, completely off his head.
20 Steelies, vernacular for steel toe capped working boots with a steel plate in the sole to prevent harm from stepping on a nail or some thing similar.

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Comments

Quite a wide range of topics

Very entertaining. Looking forward to seeing the next episode.

Yet another ...

Great GOMT with much greater breadth and involvement in the workings and development of the community. Always a joy to read and so very well written. Thank you Eolwaen for an evening's entertainment.

Brit