A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 59 Chineseium
The cold experienced at Bearthwaite, and most of the rest of the British Isles too, in the winter had somehow become known to the media too as the Heller of all Hellers. Many farmers went bankrupt after their losses due to the winter, others just gave up. Beebell had bought up huge tracts of land and many farms too via proxies. The grazing on some fell land that was common land was only available to farmers whose land bordered it. In many cases such fell land became surrounded by land entirely owned by Beebell. Since all management of and changes to such fell land had to be a unanimous decision by those who had grazing rights that gave Beebell total control, and cattle grids, fencing, walling, roads and especially new drystone wall sheep folds were installed and existing ones repaired and upgraded which made grazing the fells far easier and more profitable. Drystone walling was the preferred option because unlike fences involving wood or wire which often were completely rotted and rusted away after ten years and had at best a maximum life expectancy of fifty years, by which time they would certainly need to be completely replaced, most drystone walls barely needed attention after two centuries, and they added to the appeal of the landscape which brought in visitor money. The biggest single difference was that some of the hardier cattle farmed by Bearthwaite farmers could be kept on the fell for maybe three-quarters of the year. With the building of new milking parlours on land close to the fell it had even been possible to graze some of the hardier breeds of dairy cattle on the fells particularly English Longhorns.
The winter had lasted till March the twenty-fifth, five days after the Vernal Equinox, before it rose above freezing, and that, according to Joel’s weather station’s recorders on the Bearthwaite village green, was only for a few minutes just after noon. For what could reasonably be described as warmer weather folk had had to wait another fortnight till the ninth of April to deliver some sunshine that actually felt warm. By the middle of April the weather had been glorious, but it hadn’t lasted into May which had been unseasonably cold with bitter north easterly winds. It had been a cool dry summer with the temperatures remaining more or less the same till early November. November had been a wet, damp and chilly month, dank just about summed it up, and December had only been any better because the air being colder had caused some of the moisture to drop out of it. As well as being colder and a little drier December had been much windier and the attendant chill factor had made it feel much colder than it was.
The first frost had waited till mid January and from then on all through February the mercury had oscillated erratically between plus and minus three [37·4 and 26·6 ℉] till late March which had been a miserably wet, icy, slushy and muddy month. Despite the lack of snow the winter had been considered to be a bad one. April had been blowy which along with the pleasantly dry air had dried the ground up which made life feel significantly better due to not having to wear wellington boots wherever one went. Then to everyone’s surprise, except Joel’s and Auld Alan Peabody’s, the weather in May settled to glorious sunshine with pleasantly balmy breezes that avoided one becoming too hot. Joel was now becoming to be regarded as the sorcerer’s apprentice regarding the weather. Auld Alan had long been jokingly regarded as the weather wizard and to possibly be in league with the Earl of Hell himself. Many truly believed deep down that he probably had a tenuous connection with the old gods of his ancestors, who he claimed had both lived in the valley for over twelve hundred years, for with no equipment other than his highly tuned senses, his phenomenal memory and his equally high level of intelligence he was rarely wrong and had never been seriously wrong, which was very different from the meteorological office who had millions of pounds worth of equipment to rely on.
Auld Alan Peabody had predicted that the fine warm weather would become hot, very hot before June arrived and most of the country would eventually be under drought conditions with hosepipe bans in force though he doubted it would be as bad as the summer of nineteen seventy-six when water supplies had been shut off to private houses and most businesses. Those like car washes had been forced to close and many had never reopened. Many folk had had to queue to obtain their water from standpipes in the streets. At the time there were news reports coming out of the home counties(1) that were similar to those that had been coming out of the third world for decades. There were edgy cartoons of Biafran(2) looking suburban housewives in the media that many considered to be grossly inappropriate queueing with plastics buckets at standpipes that barely trickled water. However, Alan had said that Bearthwaite would be fine and would have enough water for both folk and stock. If pressed he said they’d just sell less water to down country, after all, when all was said and done, that was what they gone to court to establish their right to do: the right to sell what water they wished to sell when and only when they wished to sell it. Again many agricultural businesses had folded due to the drought and Beebell had again had their proxies buy huge tracts of land and many farms too.
When pressed for what to expect from the coming winter all Alan had been prepared to say was, “It’s too early to tell. Give me till the beginning of the back end (3) and I’ll tell you then.” However, it was known that he’d advised farmers to have Murray and his agents lay in feed stuffs in as much quantity as they could obtain without alerting any to what they were doing and to start buying early from markets all over the north of England and southern Scotland to avoid any noticing and hiking their prices up. If that started to happen he advised Murray to start buying from much farther south and to just ignore the haulage costs because it would be Bearthwaite waggon drivers being paid. When Murray had asked should he start laying in feed for the following year too Alan had said, “Nay, Lad. When that comes around feed will be gey cheap because none will be abuying. Just mek sure we have enough to see this winter out which could be a gey lang yan and run into May.” The inference had been clear, by then few would have much stock alive that needed fed. Alan had also advised Harwell and Gervin to make sure the fences were in tip top condition early and all who grazed the fell tops to get all stock down to lower pastures by the third week of November. He’d also cautioned them that he may end up bringing that date forward to nearer to the beginning of November. Any number of farmers had said that when the Peabodys started moving their stock down from the high fells only a fool didn’t do likewise, and they all placed their orders for feed stuffs on the assumption that the Peabodys were using: that all their stock would survive and if they wished them to stay that way they’d need a lot more feed than usual, for there would be little if anything for them to graze and they’d be needing to be fed better than usual to resist the cold. When questioned what they would do if the winter lasted through till say May and feed had started to run out months before, Allen had replied tersely, “What our ancestors did. Slaughter all other than the best breeding stock as necessary.”
However, all that was for the future and right now in the middle of May folk were enjoying the good weather, and the children were dancing on the village green at every opportunity. Rather than use recorded music, children who could play took it in turns to provide dance music even at lunchtime during school days. Even some adults joined in though many, both children and adults, were focussed on the solstice party and dance which promised to be a magnificent event due to the weather. Jeremy who always managed such events was his usual calm collected self and was ensuring that all who needed the wherewithal to provide food had it delivered to where it was required with time and more to spare. Vincent had all the meat ready for the spits and Bertie had the battery powered spits looked at to ensure the meat would be cooked to perfection. Picasso potatoes were ready for baking by the tractor trailer load with old, stainless steel, twelve gallon, milk churns of butter available to lavish on them when they came out of the spuddie bakers(4) ready for splitting and buttering, and of course there were hundreds of men who assisted with ensuring the drink would be available in appropriate quantities.
Some months before questions had been asked at Beebell directorate meetings concerning how the planning applications would be presented to the Council planning sub committee for the refurbishment and modernisation of some of the big Victorian buildings into quasi military style barracks for Bearthwaite folk who lived outside the valley. When such emergency accommodation within the valley was required, and all believed it was when and not if it were required, a lot of accommodation would be required very quickly. As such, to be able to make it available in such quantity it could not be anything other than spartan, essentially, sleeping accommodation with all other facilities shared. Shared laundry, play areas for children, relaxation areas and mess hall style eating facilities. “It’ll have to be like a barracks,” Murray had said. “Question is how the hell do we present that to the planners. Even with the clout(5) we currently have and calling in all our favours owed it’ll be really difficult to get approval on. I don’t even want to think about the furore it would create if we said it was for the street kids. We’d be accused of creating a twenty-first century workhouse, and the accusations would never go away.”
Sasha had asked with a devilish smile on his face, “How many over eighteens have we got living here and outside in the Calva ward? Two? Three thousand? We could push that figure to five I reckon if we said we would be tekin non Bearthwaite folk. Since we can’t change what we are going to need we need to change the yardstick by which it is judged. By the standards of most student accommodation what we’re proposing would be positively luxurious. Dry, warm, individual bedrooms albeit small, furnished, all facilities, library to study in, launderette, meals provided in a fully staffed and catered refectory – note a refectory not a mess hall. Give some of our bright sparks a few weeks to polish the idea up to the standard of outsiders’ bullshine(6) and we’ll have colleges and universities up and down the country wondering how the hell we can afford it. No politician or media arsehole is going to accuse us of owt, they won’t dare. Since some of the residents will be students it’d be a good idea to invite the National Union of Students for their comments. We could ask Willi Gwent, him as has the job Buthar wants, chairman of the planning sub committee, to open the spot. We don’t have to have enough students to fill all of the proposed buildings immediately since we naturally shall have educational plans in the pipeline that we don’t wish to discuss yet since they are nowhere near finalised. The students involved in those plans will eventually need the residences which will have to be available before we offer places to those students. Now things change with time and maybe not all those educational plans will come to fruition and we’ll have to do something with those fully furbished residences won’t we? After all it’s only reasonable that we’d want some kind of return on our investment? And finally we put Ben Gillis onto it to make us seem like the philanthropists that we truly are in the media.” Yet again Sasha had plotted a completely legal, even if it were to some a totally reprehensible and unscrupulous course to get what he wanted.
John Finkel had said to the members of the Beebell directorate, “I reckon it’s time to release some wildcats into our own area. The ones up on Yell Fell are doing well and there are four generations of ’em up there now. We have some truly spectacular footage from the remote motion activated cameras we set up. None has ever claimed to have laid eyes on ’em other than that tourist years ago that none believed. I reckon Hamilton’s rapid scorning of and scoffing at her tale did us proud.(7) Not even the army training up there have seen ’em. Mind I’m not bloody surprised with the noise they make. The coniferous forestry up on Needles Fells that was planted in the nineteen twenties is dense enough to provide the cats with the cover they require, and our newly planted hardwoods up there will be providing an ideal habitat for small mammals which will be getting better every year for at least a couple of centuries as the remaining bracken is gradually shaded out and we gradually harvest the conifers to be replaced with native hardwoods. The bracken will never recover after what the pigs have done to it and a small number of sheep there will maintain our control over it. Just get the sheep off there to avoid the lambs being teken by the cats when they’re small enough or maybe not because they’ll only tek the weak lambs. If we put bark protectors round the young trees it will be easy enough to allow coneys in but keep deer out. Give it twenty, thirty years and we could allow deer in there. The coney would be a good food source for the cats and the deer eventually will be food for us, and possibly that would be the time to consider reintroducing wolf and or lynx.
“If we think this through and implement it properly the cats will not spread out from our land till there are enough of them to establish territories on the entire Needles Fells site. The fell land out side our property is just bracken which currently supports few small mammals. To a wild cat it’s a desert. Of course if in the future we could buy some or all of it and allow the Tuskers and Delvers give the bracken a hammering before planting more hardwoods and some heather for the bees that would extend the territory available to the cats. If reforestation were to be the ultimate goal the pigs won’t need to do a complete number on the bracken because if they clear most of it out and turn the entire surface over that will do to enable young trees to thrive. Those trees will eventually shade the bracken out and that and a few sheep will finish the job. We’d have a lot more to do on the Flat Top Fell side of the valley before we could consider releasing some cats there, but it’s not entirely out of the question in ten or so years. All of that extra forestry and undergrowth will make invading the valley far more difficult. We need to be planning this as of now and be integrating our security with the reforestation and rewilding. If we get it right eventually we’ll only have to worry about folk coming in along the lonning. Chance?”
Chance said, “A quarter of that land on the far side of ours at the valley head belongs to SPM. The rest belongs to a family who are going to get hammered for death duties in a few years. They’ve left it too late to do owt that has any certainty of avoiding death duties. The auld man has just turned ninety and is not in the best of health. SPM we can leave to the tender mercies of the ladies. I reckon Annalísa wouldn’t mind giving them some serious grief.” Annalísa smiled and nodded. “Adalheidis you want to take it from here regarding the other land up there?”
Adalheidis nodded and said, “John first asked us to look into the land up there a couple of months ago. The SPM land will be no problem and I reckon we’ll get a fair bit of the money we overpaid for Flat Top Fell back on the deal, enough at any rate to finance the observatory and a first class access to the top. The land is known as the Lower Barra Estate. It’s upland but despite its appalling condition it’s not really fell land, and it’s our perfect kind of project. Well it’s Gunni Gris’ perfect kind of project. During the second world war [1939-1945], when all land that could be ploughed to grow food had to be by law, what had been upland sheep and cattle pasture was put under the plough. Virtually all of it was able to be ploughed and so was. The lower land was used to grow wheat and barley and the rest potatoes and roots, mostly swedes [rutabaga] and mango wurzels. After the war the pasture wasn’t reinstated and the land was neglected. By nineteen fifty it was just weeds and gorse. By nineteen sixty the bracken had taken over and it had choked even the gorse out. That’s all that grows there now. No SPM appointed land manager has ever looked at it. As to our negotiations again it’s all about their lack of liquidity. We’ll have a chat with you, Murray and Sasha too some time about what we need to do. Mostly it’ll be just about moving money around and buying a bit of decent land as bait. Similar to what we did in order to buy Flat Top Fell.
“As to the other land, which is known as the Barra Fell Estate, we need to act quickly. I’m certain that Edward McCuillin the head of the McCuillin family will be willing to sell it to us on a gradual mortgage kind of agreement that would make it our property, so not eligible for death duties, if we agreed to repay the family at a rate that wouldn’t be excessively taxable. More or less the same kind of arrangement we had with the Challacombes when we bought the Bearthwaite valley. We could buy a piece of decent land of their choice that the McCuillin family could earn a living off which their fell land does not provide and act as their landlord with money only changing hands on paper. If we gave them the land registry deeds and the transference documentation and agreed to formalise completion of the transference deeds at some future date once probate has been long done and dusted they would probably save several million on the deal. All could be done whenever they found it to be to their convenience. It would make no odds to us if that were in twenty or even fifty years. It’s right on the edge of illegality but it does not cross that edge.
“However, I’ll suggest that in say ten years they have the land transferred into a lifetime entail for one of their younger family members controlled by however many senior family members they decide upon. It would be best for the entire family if that younger person had just been born at the time. Then they wouldn’t end up in the situation they are currently in regarding death duties ever again. If that’s what we decide to offer we need to approach them soon before the old man dies and he is the best one to talk to. Most of the family have no brains at all, but Edward is gey sharp and a brutal realist, and I’m certain he’ll accept the deal. Sure he’ll push us on price or maybe better conditions that don’t involve money, but he’s as straight as a die and will go through with whatever he agrees to if we convince him we shall do the same. I don’t anticipate a problem there for he knows about us. He’s even said publicly that those sheep farmers who stole our grass on Needles Fells got nowhere near what they deserved and he’d have hanged them.”
“You bin looking into this for a while, Adalheidis?”
“Aye. John raised the matter a couple of months since and I’ve had Clerkwell looking into the matter for me ever since. Are there any objections to us proceeding?” Adalheidis looked around and eventually said, “Okay we’ll get on with it. However, it has occurred to us that we are going to need considerably more farm workers and managers too. The Faculty of Agriculture at the Bearthwaite Educational Establishment, needs to be looking into the matter because we really should not be employing outsiders, though outsiders who will become Bearthwaite folk would be okay.”
Tyler was a young man who’d left school with excellent A’ levels, but with no experience what so ever concerning dealing with hearing impaired folk. However, his father had been in the trade. As a result he was totally familiar with the technology and the variety of devices available. Seeing Murray’s advertisement, he’d written to Murray explaining his circumstances and that he wanted to follow a BSc (Hons) Healthcare Science (Audiology) course at Leeds, Manchester or Sunderland University. He wondered if he were in any way suitable for their requirements. Murray after talking to Abbey and Sun came to the conclusion that they’d better interview Tyler and see where that led them. Tyler came to the interview with his father Winston a widower of many years. A degree was not necessary for a hearing aid technician, but Murray, Abbey and Sun were agreed it was desirable and they wondered how much Tyler could assist them prior to graduating. It turned out that the legal situation was a bit of a gray area, but given that Winston was a fully qualified hearing technician and as suitable as Tyler in terms of being Bearthwaite folk Murray asked if he would be prepared to move to Bearthwaite. Winston had replied that he was, but it depended on exactly what Tyler was being offered. That Bearthwaite was prepared to cover all his education costs and offer a living allowance whilst he studied was more than acceptable. That state of the art equipment was threwn in and there would be no limitations on what particular hearing aids he could recommend and order sealed the deal. It only remained to discover which university offered Tyler the best degree course. Sasha was looking into that because he had contacts. “Since he is on first name terms with every reprobate and hard drinker in academe on the entire planet of course he has contacts,” retorted Elle when Murray explained the situation to her.
It was Clerkwell James a relatively recently appointed member of the legal team’s researchers who met Angélique, a researcher for Monica a thirty-four year old patents lawyer, in the Manchester Central Library patents section back at the beginning of March. They met in the cafeteria and started chatting in the queue. Initially just interested in each for wholly different reasons they rapidly realised that they liked each other. Their conversation widened to their personal circumstances and Angélique admitted that she envied Clerkwell his job. “Monica who is my wife as well as who I do the research for is a patents lawyer and we both work for a large international company that has been pissing the pair of us off more and more by the week. You seem to have found a decent niche despite all the crap your ex wife and kids puts you through, Clerkwell.”
“Yeah. Though it didn’t seem like I was ever going to have a life at all for longer than I care to think about. If you are serious about looking for another place to work you could do worse than try Bearthwaite. I know they are looking for a patents lawyer. They have certain specific inventions they want protecting. Having said that it’s not everyone who would be acceptable. Bearthwaite is a very different type of society from any other I know. They won’t put up with any bullshit at all. The entire place is a coöperative with equal shares held by every adult who lives there, or who is a recognised member of what is referred to as Bearthwaite folk. The folk there are intolerant of intolerance and there are significant numbers of LGBT+ live there. My missus is trans. If that bothers you I wouldn’t even consider the idea, but if you’re okay with that like I said you could do a lot worse.”
Angélique thought for a minute and said, “Monica and I are both bi. She has a little girl and I have two sons and one on the way. We’ve been a bit unlucky with men though we are still looking. We’d like a ménage à trois albeit an unusual one. How do you think that would go down?”
“No one would care as long as you were decent folk. The only thing I can think of that may cause you an issue is you’d have to lose the trousers. Bearthwaite women don’t wear trousers and won’t accept any woman who does as one of themselves. Other than that it’s just a very old fashioned place. Naturally enough some of the kids would ask questions. That’s what kids do, but there won’t be any unpleasantness associated with it.”
Angélique and Clerkwell talked for a couple of hours about Bearthwaite and dined together that night at Angélique’s hotel. At the end of the evening Angélique admitted she was very interested and she was sure Monica would be too. Clerkwell returned to his hotel after having left Angélique with Chance’s contact details.
Chance went looking for Clerkwell to gain more information about Monica and Angélique. “I had a call from that lass you met in Manchester and her wife, Clerkwell. They’re coming up to talk to me next week. I’ll have Elle there too. I know what they do and they’re good. Damned good. Question is will they fit. Tell me what you know about them as folk.”
“Obviously I can’t say much about Monica as I’ve never met her, nor spoken to her. All I know is she is thirty-four and has a four year old daughter. Angélique is twenty-eight and has a couple of sons aged three and one and she is pregnant. Not far along because if she hadn’t telt me I wouldn’t have known. Angélique has worked with Monica for six years, that was how they met. Both have always worked with patents. The women are both bisexual and Angélique said they’d not had much luck with men. She made no reference to any of the children’s fathers and I didn’t ask. They have been looking for some time for a permanent male partner for what Angélique described as a ‘permanent ménage à trois albeit an unusual one’. I suspect she said albeit an unusual one because it seemed to me that she is the more dominant partner of the two women. I’m not sure dominant is the most appropriate word to use under the circumstances, but I can’t think of a better one. Anyway I suspect that when they find a man it will have to be one who is able to accept that he and Monica will be Angélique’s partners, rather than the two women being his partners. Angélique is of a gey similar mind set to Adalheidis and Annalísa.”
“Oh God no! You can’t be serious, Clerkwell. Not three of them‽ And all with exotic names beginning with A.”
Clerkwell grinned and said, “Sorry, Chance, but you can only buy what’s being offered for sale, and those three will get on like a house on fire.”
Monica and Angélique proved to be more than a good fit at Bearthwaite, and they had more than enough work to keep them going for a long time. There was the obvious matter of the ring train mechanisms, but most of their work would come from the dozens if not scores of inventions and innovations that had already poured out of the Bearthwaite workshops and were still doing so. Too there were the legalities involved with the pop names for the beverages from the brewery. It wasn’t long before Angélique and Monica met Alnwick,(8) a twenty-four year old reception class teacher who was somewhat effeminate. It was an arrangement that suited them all and was just accepted by their neighbours without comment. Soon enough Monica was delighted to announce that she was pregnant with her second child.
Nibbs, who never admitted to any other name nor to how he acquired that one, was talking to Sasha. “Don’t get me wrong. I really appreciate this opportunity to live a decent life, but I don’t understand why I was offered it. I’ve lived a life of crime since I could walk and I’m twenty-eight which is a long time. I’ve no idea who my dad is and my mum walked out on me as soon as I could thieve well enough to feed and clothe myself. Why would decent folk in a decent place like this want anything to do with anyone like me?”
“The bottom line, Nibbs, is because Harriet thinks you’re a decent bloke. You helped her when she was desperate and you didn’t expect owt in return. I can see that you’re about to say it was the decent thing to do and anyone would have done it. Trust me, with my background I’ll know a lot more about folk than you. You’re right it was the decent thing to do, but you’re wrong because very few folk would have done that. We trust Harriet’s judgement, but even if she’s made a mistake it’s an easy mistake to correct. We’ll just get rid of you by telling you to go. She says you are not a violent man. Is that correct?”
“Not exactly, Sasha. I’m more than a bit tasty(9) when it comes to a fight and I’ve had to do more than my share. I’ve never set out to hurt anyone and I’ve only ever fought to protect myself. Truth is I’d far rather run than fight, but if it comes to it I’d far rather it were the other blokes lying in pain on the floor waiting for the ambulance than it were me, so I got to be damned good at it. Mostly all I’ve ever wanted was to be left alone.”
“We’ve any number of men here just like that, and that is not what we call a violent man. That’s a man, a man able and willing to look after himself and his own. You say you’d appreciate work, we’ve got a number of options that I suspect would suit you. There’s a demolition group, a forestry group, the fencers and the rangers who would expect you to join the army volunteer reserve, the TA. I’m sure there are many other options too. If you are looking to be a family man I’m sure any number of our single lasses would be interested in you, especially if you were prepared to start an instant family by adopting some of the street kids we rescue from towns and cities all over the country. We have a rather specialised group of our rangers who comb urban areas for such children and young adults, but a lot of those kids need hidden from the authorities once we accept them, and that means closed mouths about their existence. If you’ve any interest concerning what I’ve just said I can set up meetings for you more or less immediately. If not I can put you in touch with folk who will be able to inform you of a much wider set of opportunities.”
“ ’Struth, Sasha! Is this place for real? That bunch looking for kids that need help sounds like they’re involved in a bloody good thing to do. I wish there’d been someone like you lot around to have done that for me when I was a kid. Only thing is if that’s the rangers and that means joining the TA how is that possible when I’ve a record of previous(10) going back more than two decades? And yeah, I’d like a decent life with a decent girl and a family. Taking on street kids sounds like a decent thing to do too. It’s not going to happen though is it? I mean seriously who’d want me as her old man and I’m not exactly most people’s idea of the ideal father am I?”
“Taking those issues one at a time. Yes this place is for real. We may not have been around to help you as a child, but if you want us we’re here for you now. As for the rangers, you don’t have to join the TA, but I’m pretty certain we can swing that for you if we demonstrate that you are one of us. A new name is easy enough to do legally. All it takes is two signatures, yours and that of a witness. What did the courts and the police have you down as?”
Nibbs looked uneasy before he replied, “I don’t actually know my official name, or even if I ever had one. I don’t know where I was born or even if I were ever registered. I don’t know why my mother called me Nibbs. I don’t even know her name or if she’s still alive. They called her Candy Splits, but that can’t have been her real name. I reckon it was just a crudity to do with her being a junkie and a whore.(11) The first folk who had me up in court had me down as Nibbs Nibbson for a bit of a laugh at my expense, and the cops and courts have just accepted that ever since.”
“I reckon we can do better than that. A Nordic or even a Viking name may help to establish an identity to outsiders as a man of Bearthwaite. I’ll have someone look into it as soon as possible. Jimmy who is a family solicitor should be able to sort you out with a birth certificate, a National Insurance number and a National Health number too in no time at all. Perhaps the only good thing about having been in and out of gaol so much is the National Insurance folk will have to credit you with your gaol time contributions as well as any Social Security contributions for your pension and we should be able to top up your missing payments to enable a full pension when the time comes, but you can leave that to our accountants and legal folk. If Harwell who is our commander of rangers, tells the army your exact circumstances, say in six months, I reckon you’ll be fine. The army want reserve soldiers and if Harwell is responsible for you and vouches for you as one of us they’ll buy it. That you’re a bit tasty will definitely be a plus in their eyes because it’s expected of a soldier. They’re happy to accept loads of our younger men who came to us off the streets and you’ll be just one more. They get some credit with their higher ups for helping us turn kids with little hope of a decent future into contributors and soldiers who never cause any one any bother. The Bearthwaite rangers are not typical reservists because they operate, train if you like, all year round due to it being their civilian job too, and the army makes some small allowances. As for a lass, let our womenfolk worry about that. I’ll put Elle, my wife, on to it. You may not be most outsider folks’ idea of the ideal father, but I reckon that you’re pretty damned close to it the way Bearthwaite folk see things. Leave things with me and I’ll get back to you in a couple of days. I’ll tell someone in the rangers to make contact with you later today.”
A couple of days after going to Bearthwaite, Nibbs Nibbson was officially Níls Nílsson, which sounded authentically Bearthwaitesque. A week after that he was a member of Arathane’s rangers who were scouring Cardiff for homeless kids. Vada was a nineteen year old ranger who went to Cardiff too, and by the time they returned to Bearthwaite they were a couple with four daughters off the streets ranging from nine to twelve that had all made a family out of each other. Two months after that Níls was a fully legitimate UK citizen. Another seven months later Vada was three months pregnant and Níls was doing his first duty day at Warcop as a member of the TA.
Rob was fifty three and had spent any amount of time behind bars for refusing to pay to support a woman and her children that the courts had ordered him to. He always maintained that he barely knew the woman and had certainly never had sex with her and despite that the courts still refused to order her and the children to undertake DNA testing. He was he insisted a man of principle and if the courts were so stupid as to reward him with a nice warm cell and three meals a day as a result of sex he’d never enjoyed he was more than happy to go along with them. More than one magistrate and judge sentenced him to an extra thirty days for contempt of court for his attitude to the law. When he smiled and said, “Thank you,” they’d realised that there wasn’t anything they could do to punish him. He was a low risk prisoner who never caused any trouble and got along well with the warders and the other inmates. They all knew he’d serve his sentence and be released with maximum time off for good behaviour. They also knew he’d wouldn’t pay any maintenance and would eventually be back. He only had one behavioural characteristic that any thought odd which was he insisted on a small piece of cloth, he used his vest, to cover the small window to his cell. Considering his request for a curtain would be rejected by the higher ups one of the wardens in his cell block gave him a spare hand towel. When he was asked why he insisted on having a curtain he’d replied, “It’s to shut the spies out when it gets dark.” He was a model prisoner so it was ignored. Eventually his purported children became adults and his purported partner was sent to HMP Styal(12) for claiming Rob had fathered a child of hers when he’d been locked up in gaol.
Rob was back out for good and was surprised when he met up with Harriet who he’d thought had left the area to live with family up north years before. He was even more surprised to discover she’d travelled down from Cumbria specifically to talk to him. “I heard you were out for good this time Rob. You got a decent place to live and something to do to put a bit of coin in your pocket?”
“I’ve found a high quality relatively unvandalised park bench to sleep on, but there’s no chance of a job with the bird(13) I’ve done is there? Even my name(14) looks like I’m a villain. Why?”
“You interested in coming back with me for a home and work?”
“Doing what? I’ve never been a villain and I’m too old to start now.”
“No. It’ll all be completely kosher. There’s any number of things you could do. To be honest I was really looking for bad lads who lived that way because they’d never had a choice. Lads who if given a choice would tek it, but I only found Nibbs who now goes by the name of Níls. Nobody else I know would be able to resist thieving. I heard you were out and I thought if anyone deserved a break it was you. We all knew it wasn’t you who gave Molls those kids. Fact is there were so many possibilities that without DNA evidence there was nowt any could do about it. I wrote to the court and had dozens of others do so too, but they didn’t tek any notice.”
“Yeah I heard about that. Thanks, I was grateful when I heard. I still am. So what’s the score on this offer of yours then?”
“I live in an isolated community called Bearthwaite. My family owns and runs the pub there. We feel like we’re under siege from idiots in the nearby towns and are looking to increase our population with decent folk. There’s a large organisation that goes looking all over the country for kids living on the streets in need of a home. We don’t always remember to inform the powers that be about all of them. I’m sure you understand why.” Rob nodded but didn’t otherwise respond. “A while back my Granddad asked me to seek out any decent folk from here, folk who would make proper use of a chance to live right. If there’s any others you can think of please let me know. There are any number of lines of work you could follow. Just about everyone at home is short of help.” Harriet smiled and said, “There are any number of women who’d be interested in you. I read what you said in court about refusing to pay for rearing kids when you’d never enjoyed sex with their mother. Of course this time if you enjoyed the sex you’d be expected not to pay for rearing the kids, but to help to do it. And there are always the kids rescued from off the streets who need parents too. I’ll leave it with you, Rob. Here, this is a card with a dozen contact numbers on. If you want to give it a try ring any of them.”
“What if I say yes right now?”
“I’ll buy another train ticket to Carlisle for you, and you come back with me this evening. By the time we get there a car will have been arranged to collect us at the station and I’ll put you up at the Green Dragon the night. You can talk to folk who’ll deal with the rest tomorrow. Is that what you
want to do?”
“Yeah. I’m not desperate to get back to my park bench. It may have been vandalised by the time I get back to it.”
To the surprise of many Rob decided that despite never having had anything to do with growing things in his life he wanted to join the tree nursery staff. He was a quiet and thoughtful man who in spite of obviously fitting in was hard to get to know. Rob had spent a lot of time on his own in gaol and realised that it suited him. Eventually he found that there were too many folk for him to easily deal with at the nursery and he joined the high fell wallers. For someone of his age he picked up High Fell rapidly and was fluent within six months. Tiffany was descended from a long line of shepherds and she was fluent in High Fell which was how she became aware of Rob. She was a forty-two year old spinster who’d never really been interested in men, or women either, but Rob’s story interested her. Twelve months after Rob had moved to Bearthwaite Tiffany proposed to him and took a somewhat shell shocked Rob back to her bed. Rob wasn’t a virgin, but for all the practice he’d been able to have for a couple of decades he may as well have been. It was a surprise to the pair of them to discover that it looked like Tiffany had conceived if not on that first night then within a handful of days from it. They decided that they would adopt some street children too. Tiffany was expecting a son, so they decided they wanted a daughter, they acquired three and a son too.
Once Jimmy had heard about the court’s refusal to order DNA testing on Rob’s supposed offspring he started proceedings to recover compensation for the time Rob had spent in gaol. “The thing is, Rob,” he’d explained, “legally it doesn’t actually matter whether you are their father or not. What’s at stake here is the fact that the court denied you the opportunity to present a valid defence. That is illegal and you have a right to be compensated for that. Once we’re done with the family court, Adalheidis and Annalísa will pursue the matter of compensation for the time you spent in prison for crimes you did not commit in the high court. That is a completely separate issue from being denied access to a valid defence. There are ways that we can present our case such that we’ll get the two bites at the cherry. Once in the high court and if necessary then in the appeal court. If that woman refuses to provide her own and the children’s DNA then the court has to find you not guilty and order compensation be paid for your loss of liberty. It also leaves her open to a charge of perjury, which will put her behind bars, and possibly force child protection services to take her children into care.”
“Granddad, I overheard Mum and Auntie Groa talking earlier on, and―”
“You’ll get your ears rattled if you get caught eves dropping on the womenfolk, Son,” Auld Alan said with a wide grin.
“I wasn’t!” Ethan protested. “ I just walked through the kitchen and they were talking.”
“Okay, Lad, so what’s the problem?”
“They were talking about some visitors who’d been watching cheese as it turned to curds and whey and Mum asked Auntie Groa about the visitors, but Auntie Groa said that they weren’t visitors just tourists. Aren’t visitors and tourists the same?”
“Well, Son, doubtless if you looked the words up in a fancy English ordbok(15) it would tell you that they are the same, but there’s a difference in the way Bearthwaite folk use the words these days. Yance ower(16) they were the same here too, but now a visitor is someone we welcome, even if they’ve never been here before, decent folk are visitors. Tourists are folk we don’t really like, folk we don’t approve of, but as long as they don’t get too far out of line we’ll happily tek their money off ’em. We used to use the term eco tourists for the folk who come to photograph wildlife here, but it’s considered to be not nice any more, so we call ’em eco visitors now. The eco bit means ecology like as in wildlife. Okay, Son?”
“Yeah. I get that. Visitors good, tourists bad. Simple enough, Granddad. I’ll tell my brothers. Thanks.”
As Ethan left Alan couldn’t help but smile at the Orwellian simplicity of life as seen by a child. Visitors good, tourists bad.(17) ‘What,’ he wondered, ‘would I give to be eight again?’ As he smiled he thought again, ‘And when it all is tallied up on each side of the great ledger called life the kids have probably got it right. There wasn’t really owt that on balance couldn’t be distilled down to either good or bad, desirable or undesirable. We ower complicate most things far too much. I reckon I was eighty before I realised that, and after that life became easier. I spent all that money on a pedigree bull without a second thought when I hadn’t quite reached thirty.(18) By the time I was forty I’d never have found the balls to risk it, at fifty I’ve called it folly, by the time I was sixty we’d not have had the money to risk any more because we were only still wealthy then because Richard had sired the herd that made us wealthy. At seventy if I’d a bin broke I’d probably have given up on life watching Ɖelmarra(19) dying a little more day by day. Aye it was only when I reached eighty that my give a bugger got well and truly brock,(20) and now I’m probably nearer to eight than I am to ninety-eight in my head.(21) These days if I want to drink whisky with my breakfast crumpets and honey in the stead a tea I just bloody well do it and folk can say what the hell they like about it because I don’t have to listen. That’s why hearing aids have a volume control.’
Over sixty years ago as a young man a good way from thirty, Alan had risked a hundred and eighty thousand pounds sterling on buying Richard, the original population Dairy Shorthorn bull calf that had ultimately become the foundation of the prestigious Peabody original population Dairy Shorthorn herd. From long before Richard’s conception, Alan, twenty just turned and unfortunately due to his dad’s death at the horns of a Friesian bull, the master of Wood End Farm, had done a huge amount of research on any number of Dairy Shorthorn bloodlines to be found all over the country and had ended up knowing more about Richard’s dam’s line and its milk yield in terms of both quality and quantity than the farmers who kept them. His dad’s death had provided him with all he needed to turn his back on the bags on legs(22) that the recently introduced black and white alien beasts(23) represented. He’d waited three years till Richard’s dam had been put to one of the three the bulls he’d required before making an offer for her calf should it be a bull. His offer had been accepted immediately, though he’d been considered to be a green youth who’d no idea what he was doing.
When purchased Richard had been far too young to have sired a calf and it had been a huge gamble, but Alan was only too aware that the price would only go up. Once he had proven his virility by siring a calf, either heifer or bull, his price would at least double. Had Alan’s gamble not paid off the family would have lost their centuries old home, Wood End Farm. However, Alan knew, even though the rest of his family couldn’t see it, that they were staring down the twin barrels of penury and the loss of their huge farm within a generation unless something was done to bring about a dramatic improvement in the family’s finances. That every member of his huge family was doing their damnedest to make and save money, and all worked ridiculously long hours he was aware, but unlike the rest, those he cared for and loved, he knew it wasn’t enough. He also knew if it continued for too long they would start dying young from the hardship of overwork. Not a natural gambler, naytheless he took what in decades to come he would describe as the most ridiculous and insane decision of his life.
Every Peabody bull since then had been bred and raised on the farm and was a descendant of Richard, and they still were the sole owners of semen from Richard that was available to no others enabled them to reinforce the quality of their herd should there ever be a temporary hiatus in its quality. That single decision of his had created the wealth that his entire family had enjoyed ever since. That he still regarded it as a moment of madness he’d never confided to any. Ever since, every bull calf had been raised entire, uncastrated to non farming folks, and any not up to the standard of Richard he’d refused to sell and had had slaughtered for meat on the farm. Those that were up to that standard were sold for huge sums, and most were exported to parts of the world that valued such quality, for few farmers in the UK did. Alan had said many a time, “To my shame still, I risked not just my entire future, but that of my entire clan too, on an almost insane risk. Yes, I know to not have done so would ultimately have been at least as bad, yet still it shames me.” However, the best of the bull calves, the very cream of the cream, were retained to continue Richard’s bloodline at Wood End.
It is may be notable that possibly the very best of Richards descendants was a dangerous and unpredictable young bull that had as then not been given a name. All knew a dozen ejaculations of semen had been taken from the beast by Jen, the local AI(24) technician, and his days were numbered, but all including Alan were reluctant to reduce him to beef too soon. That was till his feet needed trimming. Alan was doing the trimming when the beast turned upon him. It was a mistake, for Alan had as usual planned for all eventual outcomes, and, before any else had realised what was happening, the beast was bleeding out from a single slash of Alan’s knife to its throat. Jugulars and carotids both having been severed the beast was immediately incapacitated and dropped within three seconds. Alan Peabody had a reputation for being dangerous, but thereafter he was considered to be far more dangerous than any bull. As Ɖelmarra his wife had said in the best side of the Dragon to dozens of other Bearthwaite women, “My man is more than able to look after his woman and bairns. When I was a lass at school some of the other lasses said I was a fool for being interested in a lad as small as Alan. I thought different and I was right.”
As James had thought may be the case, neither of the two Lords nor the government were coöperative in the matter of Alyssia’s compensation. They didn’t refuse outright, but tried to drag the matter out. Adalheidis found the tabloids far easier to deal with. Adalheidis never gave more than one warning or opportunity to settle and it was a seriously damaged opposition party that had been expecting to win the election handsomely that awoke to an outraged public a few days before the election. Their breakfast perusal of the morning papers did not make for pleasant reading. Political commentators said after the general election, the event that took Ásfríðr(25) from Bearthwaite to Whitehall(26) as an MP,(27) that without doubt the matter had tipped the election and kept the government in power, albeit in a coalition with a number of minor parties resulting from a hung parliament.(28) Lords Onnersbury and Greenoaks were vilified in the media and it cost them their careers in politics and the city. Lord Onnersbury had been forced to resign from his party or be expelled. Lord Greenoaks had had it made clear to him that the company that he’d been a major partner in for decades would appreciate his resignation as an active trader. He refused, but once he realised all the other traders had resigned to form a new company and the entire city was aware why his refusal made no difference, for he was on his own and none would deal with him. When it was discovered that the two Lords and the opposition party had been offered every opportunity to compensate Alyssia for her early life’s trials and tribulations, but they had left her with no option other than to go to the media the censure heaped upon their heads by the public was doubled and redoubled as yet more details were carefully drip fed to the media and became available to the general public.
The media had been given ample opportunity to access a more than coöperative Alyssia for interviews and photographs. They were angry that that opportunity did not extend to either her husband or her children and were taken aback by her Anglo Saxon(29) language when she told them that the issue at hand was what had illegally been done to her by powerful men and the then government simply because it was more convenient for them to abuse the rights of a newborn infant than to do the jobs the public purse paid them to do which in that case had been to defend the rights of all citizens regardless of their age. A matter that they should be interested in, indeed a matter they had every right to be interested in because that was part of their job. It was a matter that justifyably made the public angry because such persons needed bringing to account before they behaved like that with any and every one. However, the matter had happened two decades before her marriage and longer still before her son’s birth, therefore her husband and son had no involvement in the matter and her private life was not and never had been part of the deal. Furthermore if the idiots with the cameras thought she was going to pose for them to explicitly draw attention to her pregnancy they were not only wrong in the head they were voyeuristic perverts too and she’d have them removed.
Alyssia cautioned them that if they rode roughshod over her family’s privacy they would be proving to the world that they were no better than Lords Onnersbury and Greenoaks and the previous government all those years ago. The more responsible media took her point, but the paparazzi became angrier still when they found themselves unable to access Bearthwaite due to the flooded lonning and a large contingent of armed folk in army combat clothing with camouflage grease paint on their faces watching them closely from numerous small boats and on nearby fell tops. The water cannon convinced them to leave the Bearthwaite Lonning End car park upon which they were parked without permission. Murray and Sasha invested the money paid by the media on behalf of Alyssia’s children and unlike the government, the city and the media promptly put the matter to the backs of their minds, for other than regular monitoring their investments in the main could look after themselves.
It was an astonished media that discovered that Ásfríðr, the most recent, and certainly the most revolutionary, firebrand in the House of Commons for many decades whose maiden speech had started ripples that lasted for months and she was still rocking the boat to create more, would only give private interviews. Private interviews to selected members of the media, and she’d announced that any who had behaved badly towards her friend and neighbour Alyssia could stay in the gutter where they belonged. “The statement that ‘there is no such thing as bad publicity’ is clearly bullshit and is a morally repugnant view of the world. Each and every action of all of us has consequences, and that includes you, all of you. It’s about time that the media started to wake up and realise that, and that you will be held accountable for your actions too. Laugh if you wish, but it is my intent to change the face of UK politics and cleaning up the incestuous and corrupt relationships that exist amongst the media, politicians, the courts and the police is pretty much at the top of my hit list.
“The public have the right to be able to believe everything all of you say totally. Right now they neither believe nor trust the media, politicians, the courts nor the police, because you’ve all been caught out manipulating the truth for your own ends far too often as well as telling far too many outright lies. That is outrageous and needs changed, and don’t bother to make fun of the way I use English because at least I am consistent in my grammatical usages whereas some of you are barely literate which is part of the problem. From where I come it’s you southerners that don’t speak properly. Just for your interest we refer to you all as talcum knackered southern Jessies, which is no worse than you referring to us as northern barbarians covered in woad which I have recently read in some of your outpourings. As I said laugh if you will, but notice has been served, so get your acts together because there will come a day when if you cross me I will see you in gaol. Just in case you think this is a risible joke I suggest you look at what we have achieved in local politics in what was Cumbria and is now Cumberland and Westmorland again. One county at a time, Ladies and Gentlemen, and then followed by one constituency at a time. The secret is simple and it’s no secret, treat folk with respect and tell the truth and they’ll vote for you. If something they want badly isn’t doable say so and explain why. Then ask for their input because then maybe it will become doable.
“Furthermore, I suggest you remember where the balance of power in the House of Commons currently lies. I was given a promise of support for my private members’ bill(30) on the right to privacy from the media by three cabinet members who subsequently reneged on their word. The next time a critical vote was called I was the independent who voted it down and the government’s bill failed to pass. They were shocked, but shouldn’t have bin because I warned them right from the start that if they broke their word, regardless of their circumstances that I would do that because it meks no odds to me who governs since I consider none of them are fit to do so. Till one of those three members puts my bill up for reconsideration I shall keep voting against the government. Most of the time that will not make a difference, but with their precarious position from time to time it will. I can’t make the country ungovernable, but I sure as hell can make life a bitch for them as is trying to govern it, and I shall at every opportunity. Promises aren’t good enough, only what has already bin done will have any effect on how I vote in the lobbies. You only get the one opportunity to fuck around with me, after that I’m the enemy till reparations are made and it’s up to them to do so, for I ain’t chessin(31) ’em. The only coin that truly buys loyalty is true loyalty.” It couldn’t be seen yet, but the ripples were spreading.
When Ásfríðr became the area MP replacing Max Steadings he’d been seriously upset by the event which never in his worst nightmares had he considered to be a possibility. That Erint the twenty-three year old Bearthwaite replacement candidate for the Councillor for the Calva ward took eighty-six percent of the vote on a sixty-eight percent turn out was considered to be more than significant for it meant over a quarter of the non Bearthwaite folk who lived in the Calva ward had voted for him. Ásfríðr’s victory speech had been an eye opener for many. It had referred to her proposed agenda for the area she represented and its immediate environs. “When the most recent reorganisation of what was Cumbria had been proposed there was a considerable voice that wanted to do away with the County Council and the six regional administrative councils and have Cumbria as one large unitary authority in charge of everything. As it is Cumberland has forty-six County Councillors and Westmorland with Furness has sixty-five. We’re still paying far too many to live high off public moneys. Our money. And lest any say I am an MP and earn even more. No I don’t. My salary and expenses are all open to public scrutiny at any time and they both go into the Bearthwaite Beebell fund for helping to resettle kids off the streets from the entire British Isles and that includes the republic of Ireland. I am paid by the Beebell coöperative the same as any other Beebell employee, and I am paid no more and no less than everyone else. Like us all my expenses are scrutinised and then paid by Beebell, though I always use a Beebell credit card to travel to London and to stay there.
“I shall be campaigning for a single unified county of Cumbria. The lake district is ours, all of us, and it should be seen to be ours, and it should be controlled by us. The petty squabbling for power and control that has plagued us in the past should be consigned to the past. It’s time for us all to act like adults. Unlike others I want a new county administrative headquarters. For over long Kendal ruled Westmorland as it once was, Carlisle did the same with old Cumberland. For a long time the administrative centre for Furness was Lancaster when Furness was part of Lancashire. That was a long way away and there was no direct road link without leaving the county. After the nineteen seventy-four reorganisation Carlisle Councillors ruled Carlisle City Council, Barrow Councillors ruled Barrow in Furness Borough Council, Whitehaven Councillors ruled Copeland Borough Council, Workington Councillors ruled Allerdale Borough Council, Penrith Councillors ruled Eden District Council and Kendal Councillors ruled South Lakeland District Council. All those Councillors acted as though their area was some kind of mediæval fiefdom. That has to stop.
“I’ll want a new administrative centre as close to the centre of the county as possible which puts it halfway between Keswick and Penrith. Penrith is the nearest existing town, but I could live with a new administrative centre at Penruddock. Though it would have to be build in a style sympathetic to the locality using local stone and local slate, not like Perry’s Palace,(32) that concrete monstrosity at Workington that was built to house the as then new Allerdale Borough Council. I don’t have a problem with a ballot on the entire matter as long as folk are willing to pay for it. I suggest the matter is set out with as much detail as folk ask for, where, when, how many Councillors do they think they need. I don’t mind if it takes years to plan and to finance. That way some of the fat hogs that have been living off your hard work, forcing the austerity you had no choice but to bear on to you, will either be dead or too old to function. We need new blood, new ideas from ordinary folk. In days gone by our lives were controlled by the old aristocracy. When they went by we women curtseyed to them and our men doffed their caps. We lived or died by their whim. Then Socialism came along with the Labour Party. You’d have thought things would have become better. In fact what happened was that new breed of politicians did indeed want to change things, but they didn’t wish to do away with those old class structures. No, they wanted to become the new aristocrats.
“To misquote the reported activities of some US missionaries in Hawaii in days gone by, ‘They went to do good and they did right well’. Look at the Labour politicians in parliament and ask your self, ‘How did there come to be so many multi millionaires in the Labour Party?’ That’s my money, my friends’ money, my neighbours’ money and your money they are living high on. Those misogynistic farts who denigrate me by saying that I’m just a silly little girl who doesn’t know what I’m talking about will eventually be gone, yet I’ll still be here. Silly I may be, but I’m not so stupid that I don’t recognise an idle bugger on the make. Little I may be, but as far as I’m aware the only place where apart height was an issue was on a nineteen seventy-five Goodies comedy sketch based in South Africa where the Jockeys were the despised minority,(33) and even at five foot nowt I’m taller than some of the shrivelled up flat cap socialists you’ve had in charge for years. And yes, I am a girl, but that is not illegal, actually it’s illegal to make anything of it. You’ll notice that I very deliberately didn’t call them misogynistic old farts because that would have been ageist and as such against the law according to the Equality Act of twenty ten.”(34)
The medical team were in conference trying to catch up on some of the more recent additions to Bearthwaite. There were a dozen of them. Sun and Abby the doctors, Grayson Smith the psychologist with his assistant Josey Finkle. Susanna, Nancy and May the midwives were there even though May was supposed to be retired. Karen and Nadia the nurses were accompanied by Elle, Vera and Margaret the retired nurses who like May helped out whenever required which meant that they been putting a lot of hours in recently whilst Murray tried to recruit some more medical staff of any description.
Sun opened by asking, “Would I be correct in saying that the residents of The Beeches Farm house are no longer of any concern despite there now being forty-eight children from off the streets of all ages with just four adults living there?”
Grayson turned to Josey and said, “You were there a couple of days ago, Josey. What were your impressions?”
“No issues whatsoever. With Angela and Wendy being two work at home mums all the children are getting the love, care and support they need. The apprentices are all doing well according to their craft masters and mistresses and the kids at school are settled and behaving. That’s including those in daycare all the way up to the top end of the senior school. The kids are working on their dads Turk and Walter to get some more farm animals and Gunni Gris has said he’ll sort a dozen piglets out for them including a couple of humbugs.(35) There are fifty two folk there with their lives on track for better things for all of them.”
Grayson asked, “Does anyone know the latest on young Kamari? He took some terrible beatings before he ran away and I wouldn’t allow Jym to pursue his father in case the stress caused Kamari to self harm or worse.”
Elle replied, “He had two issues, first he was gay and was worried that his name which is a unisex one in the culture he came from had caused that, and second that his dad wanted him to work in his brother’s warehouse whilst Kamari wished to continue with education. I’ll keep an eye on him but I doubt it will be necessary. He’s taken up with Morton who is a couple of years older and because no one cares that has put those fears to roost. He’s amazingly bright. Despite no support from either parent he achieved twelve grade nines at GCSE. He’s interested in nature and wants to be a vet. Hamilton has him well in hand and Kamori is thrilled about it. Murray says the best thing to do about his previous life is to forget it for a couple of years. After that he’ll be an adult, so it will no longer matter. Aliesha and Ulric are his parents now and he has three younger siblings. He’s happy and in no need of anything his parents and family can’t provide.”
The conversation continued for another two hours discussing dozens of new Bearthwaite residents and updating the medical records onto voice recording as well as could be done at the time.
After a break for tea and a scone, Grayson continued, “What about our latest recruit to the feminine gender, Taial? She seems happy enough and I’ve seen her holding hands with Josey’s eldest lad Lindsay who is a couple of years her junior, but he’s a big lad, so maybe it makes sense. I don’t know much about the family circumstances and didn’t wish to blunder in for a while yet.”
Josey said, “I find it best to leave Lindsay to himself and his dad. I’d do more harm than good by asking questions. I know about the pair of them, but Lyndsay hasn’t brought her home to meet us yet. His siblings know about them and there are no problems, so I’m just going to let it sort itself out.”
Susanna added, “Raim Taial’s mother has married Warren. I became involved when she missed her second period. As with all our pregnant folk someone, usually one of the more experienced mothers rather than a member of our staff, drops in every week for a cup of tea and a chat to check all is well, so we know a fair bit. Taial has three older sisters and they have long regard themselves as a group of four sisters. The older girls are a bit envious that Taial has a boyfriend and all four are plotting to find another three available boys. I know that in their ex culture Taial is regarded as an exclusively male name that means nature, so I suspect she will be changing it some time soon. She is aware that that can easily be done, so is almost certainly thinking about a new name. I heard a rumour from one of the girls of her age that she is thinking in terms of a Viking name, Rán was suggested. She is doing well at school and the entire family seem to be happy to have a dad and a husband. She is no more of a worry than any other girl of her age.”
Abbey looking at a sheet of paper asked, “Anyone know anything about Annette and Yuli? I heard they adopted some younger children, but no paperwork has caught up with us yet.”
Karen said, “All are at primary school. Ruth is six, Penelope is eight, Alvin is five, and Bart is seven. They all came from Leeds. Beth’s language after she’d examined their teeth was graphic to say the least. She said they could be grateful that they were all still on their first set of teeth and she prescribed a high calcium diet with a lot of dairy products. Fortunately the kids all love milk, yoghurt and cheese. They’ve settled in well and have made friends. Their teachers all remarked how quickly a decent environment and some love and care seemed to take over abused children’s perception of life.”
Vera added, “I’m friends with Aisling. Even she thinks it ironic that after having been driven out of Ireland by what she refers to as an Asian invasion she ended up married to Zia who Saoirse thinks is wonderful. The couple adopted five kids from Sheffield. Joyce is thirteen, Irene is twelve, Meadow is nine, Colin is twelve and Felix is eight. Saoirse is twelve and thinks it’s really good to have older and younger siblings. They’re still settling in, but they all get on, and I can’t see that there will be anything to worry about.”
May asked, “Does any know owt concerning Laila and Wellesley? I know he deals with two or three dozen apprentices, but I thought they were interested in a second family.”
Margaret said, “Chance telt me that all the kids were spoken for and had families, so I suppose they’ll be waiting for Arathane and his group to find some more in need of care. Sad to say, but I’m sure they will only too soon.”
“Is that it?” Sun asked. “If we have the recording entered up onto the records by Morgana are we up to date?” None replied, so he added, “Okay let’s all go home. Anything else I suggest as before we just note it and put it in the file till our next meeting. Thank you. I’d better be off or Elin and Tasha will be giving me a hard time.”
As they left Susanna said to Elle, “Marriage and a daughter have changed him out of all recognition haven’t they, Elle?”
“That they have. Another couple of months and he’ll look ten years older.” The pair left to go their separate ways still chuckling.
Stephen and Daphne McKendrick had long been regular Saturday evening visitors to the Green Dragon. This Saturday they were a little later arriving than usual and Stephen’s Range Rover was towing a sixteen foot, triax,(36) box trailer which he’d never arrived at Bearthwaite with before. The couple were anticipating enjoying their evening rather more than usual. As usual Stephen dropped Daphne off at the front doors, the doors the women all used to enter the bestside from via the two sets of double doors on the large front porch, but instead of driving round the back to park he left his Range Rover and the trailer at the front and walked around the building to enter from the rear the corridor that eventually led into the taproom. As he entered, gorgeously dressed as usual in female attire, he was warmly greeted by many. “Brown Bevy, Stephen?” asked Pete.
“Please, but I need a least a dozen of you to unload me at the front door. Daph’s made a couple of eight foot high Green Dragons to stand just inside the bestside as one enters. I’ve got a pallet barrow in the trailer, but I’ll not be able to shift them on my own, and I’m not exactly dressed for it. They’re carved out of some sort of stone that’s naturally green. It’s not as dense as granite but it’s a lot denser than limestone. The carvings have various shades of green running through them. I’d say the pair are one of her nicer works. It’s a present for being so nice to us both. She’s been working on them for months and put the finishing touches to them this Tuesday.”
Intrigued a couple of dozen men followed Stephen out and walked around to the front of the inn. When he opened the spring operated roll up door to the box trailer there was a round of ‘Fucking Hell!’ as the men gazed at the Chinese inspired dragons that despite that were not at all carved in the Chinese style before Vincent asked, “Just what do those buggers weigh in at, Stephen?”
Stephen was shaking his head indicating he’d no idea when Alf said, “Twenty-five going on thirty hundred weights [1250 – 1500Kg, 2800 – 3360 pounds] for sure, each. But what a pair of beauties. You can just tell from the faces that yon’s a lass and t’other’s a lad. Someone get those four doors into the bestside all oppen.(37) Bertie you want to get that pallet truck under one of ’em and slide it onto the tail lift?”
“For sure I’m not letting you do it, Granddad. Gran ’ould kill me when she found out.”
As the men laught, Alf asked, “ Stephen, you want to turn your engine on to avoid the tail lift motor flattening your auxiliary battery?” Steven nodded and turned his engine on setting the hand throttle to a moderate engine speed. “You have that throttle fitted special, Stephen?”
“Yes. I carry a lot of heavy stuff for Daphne and that tail lift eats batteries lifting stuff, though when letting stuff down it’s nowhere near as bad.”
Bertie manœuvred the pallet truck and its load onto the tail lift. Once on the ground, it took a goodly few of the men to push the lot the ten yards [10m, 30 feet] to the inn up the slope that rose ten inches [25cm] on its way. The dragon on the pallet was at least four inches too tall for the doorway. Bertie was heard to say, “Fortunately most of the weight is concentrated low down just above the plinth, so by leaning the statue backwards with a few lads on ropes to prevent it falling all the way and a few at the back keeping it where we want it we’ll manage with no bother.” Within ten minutes, enough leeway was gained to enable the men to be able to push it under the door transom below the fanlight window. The women inside were goggle eyed at the monstrous beast that had its wings half unfurled reaching up over eight feet from the floor. Looking down with a libidinous looking smile that almost compelled rather than demanded that folk, especially women, seek evidence of its masculinity, it was the epitome of a male creature in rut yet, disappointingly to many, there was no evidence of the tremendous genitalia that they expected to see.
“That’s the Lad, Ladies. T’other, the Lass, if owt is even more fantastic.” Another ten minutes and both of the Dragons were inside the room. Like the male the female was over eight feet tall, but she was of slightly slenderer form with marginally less developed musculature and a more exotic and decidedly sensual face. A face that could without doubt be described as come hither seductive. She was created in a similar way to the male, and most of the men considered that despite dragons not being mammals that the lack of any bosom, when one off the figurehead of a ship of the line in Nelson’s day would have been entirely appropriate, had seriously short changed the creature. Like the women with the male their gaze had been dragged to between her sensuously carved back legs, but there was nothing there to even suggest genitalia. The statues, both archetypes of animal lust, screamed sex and yet were so discreet they were master pieces of suggestion.
Pete asked Gladys, “Which goes on which side, Love? It’ll be easier to move them before we tek the pallets out from under.”
“I want her on the right. More or less where she is now. Him, I want in the equivalent position on the left, so that’s back a bit and away from the door a bit. Please.”
When all was done to Gladys’ satisfaction and the pallets removed from under the dragons Pete declared, “Free drink for all the night. Supper on the green will be free any road. This is a magnificent gift, Daphne. If I saw them somewhere, god alone knows what I’d a bin prepared to pay for them, for I’d have had to have had ’em.”
Daphne said, “I thought they would push straight in. I didn’t make any allowance for the height of the pallets. I’m sorry about that. Though it didn’t seem to bother you much. Have they seen the other one yet, Stephen?”
Stephen looked at Daphne and said, “Not yet, Sweetheart. Give me five minutes. Okay, Lads, I’ll drive round the back and park up, but we’re not done yet. I’ll need a hand again as soon as I’ve parked up, please.” Once parked up, Stephen said, “There’re five ten foot by five foot pieces of framed inch and a half thick, well it’s thirty-eight millimetres thick and I think that’s an inch and a half, pieces of bloody heavy, pressure treated plywood that’s been framed with tropical hard wood. They all fit together to make a fifty foot oil painting to hang over the taproom bar when the extension is done. I’m damned if I know what they weigh either, but when Daph had her lads that do the shifting in her workshop studio move them they used a hoist and cradle arrangement.
Alf said, “That stuff weighs about seven and a half pounds a square foot so that’ll be just over four hundred pounds apiece plus the weight of the framing. Call it going on four hundred weight or a couple of hundred kilos. Those ten by five sheets are never ten by five they’re usually about ten foot three by five foot three so they end up ten by five after trimming to finished size. Ten by five sheets are only available as industrial supply not retail like the eight by four sheets which are pre trimmed to size. Industrial buyers prefer to do their own trimming, so any custom sizing due to non square or other irregularities of requirement can be accommodated. We’ll need as many lads as we can get to ’em. Three, better four, each side if we want to handle the buggers easy. Four each side means each man is lifting maybe four stone. [25Kg, 56 pounds] At fifty foot long we could get ’em up in the tap as it is before the extension is done. Once I know what we’re dealing with I’ll sort it out.”
The five pieces were taken in to the taproom and their protective covers removed. None said anything for a couple of minutes. The entire taproom just stared in awe at the almost joined together painting, for it was truly awe inspiring. Unlike the statues in the bestside which were huge, substantial pieces with a definite oriental quality the green dragon before their eyes was an ethereal, graceful creature straight out of the most futuristic of science fiction inspired images, yet for all that it had something visceral about it that reminded them of a creature that transcending time itself flew over the waves of the North Sea or the Northern Atlantic at the prow of one of their ancestors’ longships(38) under the command of the master seafarers of a by gone age. Despite being done in oils the work seemed light as though the paint had a translucent, shimmering quality that one would usually associate with acrylics. Too the painting was not merely paint brushed and palette knifed onto flat plywood, for in many places other pieces of shaped materials been glued to the main piece and the depth of the low relief effected a definitely three dimensional effect in the same way that the model railway hobbyists used the technique. The luminescent yellow green eyes had a hint of red in them deep down and were two inches [50mm] proud of the piece and wherever in the taproom one viewed the creature from it seemed to gaze at one with an almost childlike curiosity. Pete almost whispered, “Your missus is truly something else, Stephen. She does this for a living? Where?”
“I asked her if I could tell you and she agreed. She mostly works from home where she has a huge workshop studio that is more like a warehouse. We had it converted from a barn a long time ago. We live in the farmhouse. A lot of Daph’s work is for the big film companies in Hollywood. Most of her work never actually gets used in the films, but she creates the concepts that other designers and creators use to create huge numbers of paintings, drawings, models, whatever, that do get used in the films. They call folk who do her kind of work concept designers. She dreamt up the dragons for the bestside. She said that she got the hint of an idea from a pair of huge, limestone, classic Chinese Lions outside the entrance to Wing Yip’s Oriental superstore in Manchester. They are known by several names to the Chinese, but are regarded as the Mighty Guardian Lions. Westerners in their ignorance often refer to them as Chinese Fu Dogs. Massive substance in striated green stone, some oriental inspiration, yet somehow essentially Western European. That’s what she told me she was aiming for. It obviously meant something to her, but don’t ask me what. I’m used to being a sounding board for her work, like she is for what I wear. It doesn’t mean either of us understand the other, but it works, so we’re grateful we have each other.
“She was seriously bothered for a while because she wanted to do something for this side of the Green Dragon. She wanted something completely different from the statues which are totally erotic in concept yet fine for children of any age to look at. Wholesome family eroticism were her words. A painting of a science fiction type of green dragon for over the bar was my idea after hearing about the planned extension. Alf said the new bar would be somewhere about sixty feet long, going from this side of the front fire to this side of the back fire and leave room in a ninety-four foot long room to walk round to the best side and the stairs at the back. I thought a fifty foot green dragon over the bar would be pretty spectacular if it were a full five foot high in places. This is what she came up with. She said it would shew to best effect if the bottom were vertically above the customers’ edge of the bar and the top leaned out forwards a foot or two over the room. She painted it with mounting it that way in mind and had the sections set up in that orientation at that height for her to paint from a mobile platform so it would look right. I manned the kettle and the sandwiches whilst she worked because once starts on a big project she forgets to look after herself.”
Alf said, “Aye that it would, that it would. Shew to best effect mounted thus I mean, and those reinforced sections with the mounting brackets on at the back will be right useful for securing it in place. I reckon I’ll probably glue a few more on to help us out when we put it up. It’ll tek a bit of supporting but fortunately I know exactly where the twelve by four [300 by 100mm] joists between the ceiling below and the floor above are. Originally we were talking about putting in an extra fireplace or even two in the taproom extension. Then we decided that would affect the use of the room too much and decided on some form of hidden central heating. That was difficult to do without buggering the tap up too much too. We were kind of stuck for a bit then we came up with the idea of some bloody great heavy, self supporting, cast iron Victorian radiators that we could mek a feature of, maybe even use as the support for tables. It took me a month sourcing ’em. There were a lot more than we needed, but they were gey cheap because the lad was going to weigh ’em in for scrap because there were a lot of breaks and cracks in ’em, but all the pieces were all there. They weren’t quite long enough for what we wanted, but they are made up by fastening however many of the identical sections that you require together. Daniel as owns and runs the Bearthwaite foundry with his mate Struan cast up the extras required for us.
“Victorian cast ain’t the easiest of tackle to weld or braze because it’s full of inclusions, shite of all sorts, but with time, care and several buckets of flux we managed. We normalised the lot, even the intact ones, by putting ’em on a bonfire of auld, knackered pallets that we kept going for a couple of days before letting it die and then we left it another two days to cool. That had the advantage of loosening all the rust, but even so it took a couple of days for the lads to dismantle and clean ’em out. But they’ve all been repaired, passivated inside and out to prevent further rust, reässembled and pented(39) wi’ primer ready for installation by the plumbers and final penting when we decide what colour to have ’em. It’s a damn good job we’re not putting two more fireplaces in. That would a bin a nightmare with yon beast to fit in around ’em. There are a couple of dozen spare radiators in the workshop store that we can use for owt else that we want to look good, and the lads are now fettling all the ones we took out of the Auld Bobbin Mill because they want to put ’em down both sides of the church.”
Simon said, “That thing reminds me of a super size bat somehow. We had a greater horseshoe in the living room a couple of nights ago. What a monster of a thing that was compared with the tiny pipistrelle that we usually get in the forge because they roost in the roof space. We usually see may be three or four dozen fly out of an evening as we’re shutting up the shop to go home to eat, but pipistrelles are the only bats we’ve ever had in the house before. This bugger looked to have a wing span of about a foot and a half. [450mm, 18 inches] I looked ’em up and it said they had a wingspan of fourteen to sixteen inch, [350 – 400mm] so I suppose eighteen inch is possible. Whatever the size it was it was an impressive looking bugger as it flew silently at a hell of a speed in circles around a fifteen by twenty foot room never getting nearer than a foot or so to a wall, and all done by echo location. Uncanny! God knows how it got into the house, but I left a couple of doors open and it soon flew out. Like that bat yon creature looks to be big, but to weigh bugger all. Wikipedia said a greater horseshoe bat only weighed up to just thirty grammes which is barely an ounce and that’s nowt considering their size.”
Stephen added as he moved towards the bar, “I’d hate any of you to give me any credit for this because I didn’t do any of the painting. Though I did clean the brushes.”
After the laughter at Stephen’s last remark, Alf said, “Okay, Lads. Let’s get ’em upright in the corner facing the wall to protect ’em. I’ve a good idea how I’m going to do the job using a few hundred feet of recycled three by two from the builders which will do as a temporary measure till the wall is knocked through for the internal work on the extension to be completed. In the meanwhile I’ll sketch a few drawings of the necessary changes to the proposed interior of the extended taproom so as to make the most of the beastie. The permanent support structure like the framing will be done in tropical hardwood. I’ll be calling round for some help tomorrow.” Alf soon had the pieces in the corner and the men settled to talking about the dragons and where Alf would be sourcing the tropical hardwood from the following Monday.
Gee Shaw asked, “Why is it that some folk are so unintelligent that they can’t distinguish between the right to free speech, which I entirely approve of, and the right to be as offensively bad mannered as their tiny little brains can envisage, which usually only runs to the profane? I suggest they just shut the fuck up and crawl back under whatever rock they oozed out from under on their trail of slime. Me saying that is just me proving that I can do offensively bad mannered too in the interests of protecting my right to free speech.”
“It’s just the way the bastards are, Gee Lad, though mostly they do it anonymously over the internet because the bastards are cowards who wouldn’t dare say that sort of shite to your face. Someone upset you, Lad? Or are those lasses of yours being more than usually difficult? Broomstick issues (40) maybe?”
“I can’t blame the lasses this time, Alf. If owt they’ve bin behaving ’emselves suspiciously well. Buggers are probably chancing it and risking mekin me a granddad sooner rather than later. No I think it’s just the stupidity of it all in the media. Harwell and a team of his came round the other day and we were mekin some security dispositions regards any uninvited guests in the valley. Where to put what and why sort of things. It’s just that having to do that made me over aware that the idiots outside are mekin us go to a lot of trouble we shouldn’t have to. I worry about my lasses because I know unlike their mum I’ll never be able to convince them that this is bloody serious.”
“I know exactly what you mean, Gee. I feel the same about mine. However, every coin has twa(41) sides and there’s only one thing I know that turns a giddy lass into a woman of sense. You won’t like it, but it’s having kids of her own to protect. That’s why your missus gets it, she’s got kids to look out for, and there’s nowt as dangerous as a mum who’s bairns are under threat. However, if that’s what your lasses are getting up to it’s not all bad, Lad. Truth is whatever they’re doing has an up and a down side to it. It’s never been any different and it never will be. If you end up a young granddad you certainly won’t be the first, so relax and tek a glass.”
“Aye. Happen you’re right, Uilleam. Before I get too depressed about not being able to have my bread buttered on both sides pass me that chemic over if you will please.”
“Now you’re seeing things in proper perspective, Lad. Another ten years and you’ll have matured enough to be eligible to be considered for proper granddad status, whether your lasses have kids by then or not.” As the laughter faded the rare stuff was passed around and pints were being pulled.
Stan indicated he wanted to tell a tale. “Her indoors(42) was given a jar of Coöp Honest Value curry sauce to try by Lilly her sister as lives at Silloth. Honest Value is a brand name the Coöp use for some of their economy lines, it was fifty-one pence [68 US cents]. Now I like a bit of spicy food and I was looking forward to the coney Julie had cooked in it with a plate of rice. What a friggin let down. They should have bin gaolt for calling that stuff curry. Fair enough it was yellow, but it was so full of nowt it was amazing that they managed to pack all that much nowt into so small a jar. There was at least two litres of nowt packed into a four hundred and forty gramme jar. Tell you, Lads, my nowt runneth over.”(43)
“So what did you do, Stan? Because I refuse to believe you went hungry for the first time in your life.”
“Well, Dave, I was damned hungry, so I dosed it with a spoon full of Julie’s lime pickle(44) and another of her harissa paste(45) and both of ’em can eat through stainless steel. Julie meks her own stuff like that and they’re spot on when compared to the real deal in terms of both taste and hotness. Christine’s lasses at the Mill use her receipts which I think she got off a Sri Lankan lass and a Moroccan lass on Youtube, but wi’ less chile in ’em. Then the curry was okay, but I’m warning you lads, be wary of that Honest Value stuff because it could give you a serious dose of nowt poisoning gey easy. It minded me of a sketch I saw years ago in that BBC Asian comedy show Goodness Gracious Me.(46) A group of Indian friends went for an English in Bombay, because it wouldn’t be a Friday night without an English would it? The lads were all pissed as rats and decide to eat the blandest food on the menu much to the worry of their lasses.(47) It was a brilliant piss take of a group of English arseholes out for an Indian after a Friday night out on the keg.(48) You know the deal, there’s always one piss head in the group who wants the hottest curry available with extra chiles just for bravado. Chile macho we used to call it years ago. But I tell you they’d a bin well satisfied with that Honest Value curry sauce.”
Dave grinned and said, “Whilst on the subject of food. You all know how Lucy mangles her words. Gets her mucking furds wuddled all the time so she does. The other night she admitted to dishing up with a foon and spork, at which I managed to keep my face straight. However the Pyrex(49) dish with a miss lidding was too much for me and I cracked up altogether.”
“So what did Lucy do, Dave?”
“I’ll shew you the bruises if you like, Pete?”
“Julian telt me that the giant hogweed(50) has not only started growing at Bearthwaite Lonning Ends, but up in some of the more sheltered places up on the tops too. Is that going to be a problem for the flocks, Harmon?”
“I can’t see it being, Vincent. There’re plenty of spots it could be a problem, but they’re too exposed for much wind blown seed to settle there, and the sheep would graze it off long before it became mature enough to be dangerous. Leave well alone I say. The seed is only settling in places we don’t go, but any folk as were trying to come in over the tops to make mischief would use those routes. It’s bin said for a long while that it is an ill wind indeed that does nay bugger any good. There’s nay need to have any go to the trouble of dealing with it. The solicitor lasses telt me that it’s growing on a private estate so the law doesn’t apply, but advised us to at least appear to be complying with it. Adalheidis telt us, ‘If it spreads to where it’s a nuisance to us, Harmon, we can spray it off. It it spreads to where it suits us the best thing is just to let it be.’ Which seemed to me to be a sensible approach.” There were few locals who were under any illusions as to how the giant hogweed seed had ended up in such convenient locations and it had nothing to do with the wind. The plants growing at the Lonning Ends all seemed to be growing in places where they and the planted thorns and other unpleasant plants forced access to the valley onto the Lonning itself rather than allowing any access to the land at the sides of the Lonning which was mightily convenient from a security point of view. All locals knew that Harwell and his staff would never admit to anything, but then none would ever ask them to. Knowing of some matters was enough, they certainly didn’t need to be spoken of. Lifted eyebrows were all that were needed to convey understanding and it was best that way.
“I know it’s a barbecue out at the back, but what is actually on the menu the night, Brigitte Pet?”
“Spit roast venison, Uncle Michael. Have you just come back home off duty?”
“Aye, Lass. Why”
“That explains why you’re not up to speed on events. A few days ago, Uncle Vincent was offered three waggon loads of venison up in the Highlands and loads of folk have been working every hour they could keep their eyes open to ensure we don’t lose any of it. Uncles Harry and Jake went up with freezer boxes behind them. They couldn’t get a hold of a third freezer box soon enough or local enough, so Uncle Turk was just pulling an ordinary box that didn’t even have a chiller unit, so Uncles Jeremy, Alf and Vincent decided that since there was so much venison to be dealt with out of Uncle Turk’s box, that it would be best if we had an extra community barbecue on the Green. The usual barbecue out at the back has been cancelled. It’s all been a bit of a rush, but everything will be ready in time. As we speak the older children are out there fetching and carrying for any who require their help. Dad is organising beer and other drink deliveries. Don’t tell Mum, but he bribed some of the lads with bottles of brown ale to have a priority service. That was my brother’s idea, not Dad’s, but it worked. I reckon the tale telling may be a bit curtailed the night once you go outside, but you’ll have the tales left over for next week.
“Seeing as its a mild and pleasant enough warm evening the ladies are having merengues with whipped cream and wild strawberry preserve for pudding. The strawberries are those tiny alpine ones the children call bubblegum berries because of their taste, but don’t worry the merengues won’t be inflicted upon you. You’re having sticky toffee pudding with the stick provided by Auntie Veronica’s bonfire night treacle toffee which I help to make. I’ve never done that before and it was fun, especially using the sugar syrup from the beets instead of granulated sugar. If you want to know what everything is you’ll be eating it’ll have to wait because like everyone else I’m rushed of my feet at the moment. I’ve still got to sort out the dogs’ kibble and water and I’ll be needed in the kitchen after that.” At that Brigitte left still talking about sorting the dogs out.
“Thank god for that!” exclaimed Alf. “You can eat a couple of dozen of those merengue things even if they are filled wi’ whipped cream and you’ve still only et a pile of air and are clempt.(51) It’s a waste of the energy it teks to move your jaws up and down if you ask me. Sticky pud wi’ bonfire toffee sauce sounds a sight better.” Alf chuckled and said, “Clever bugger young Peter ain’t he. Bribing the lads wi’ bottled ale to get preferential service. Obvious thing to do, but clever all the same. You know I reckon if we shape oursels we could help out by fetching some chemic, and tek out whatever is needed for the womenfolk too, after all we wouldn’t want to upset them would we? And still get some tales in even if we were telling some outside. All we need to do is mind the language, Lads, because the quickest way I know to get Ellen on my back is swearing in front of the little uns, especially little lasses. She’s given up on pulling me up for swearing in front of teenage lads, but not all of our lasses have had the time to get used to that, so we need to be gey careful. Okay? I’m going into the cellar to fetch some chemic. Any particular requests or are you happy to leave it to me?”
Pete answered by saying, “A good idea, Alf, but if I fetch stuff up from the cellar because I know where everything is and you and the lads tek it out to the Green where Gustav has the bar set up we’ll get some of everything. Gustav and Peter are setting up the outside beer lines and pumps and should be done in a bit. When I’ve done that I’ll start on the drink for the lasses. I’d appreciate it if a couple of you checked to see if Veronica and Jeremy and any of their staff need a hand with owt too please. However, before our endeavours I suggest a swift pint apiece will set us up for the task ahead. I know I said the drinks are on the house the night but if any of you want to pay, then just put the coin on the bar for the kids’ Christmas party collection box. The box is in the office I think because Gladys swapped some notes for the change for the bestside till. I’ll sort that out later. Stan, get behind the bar wi’ me and start pulling pints there’s a good lad. Queer ain’t it? It’s no so lang back we were eating barbecued sheep ribs outside and it was so friggin cold we had to fetch pints out from the taproom because the outside lines would have frozen in minutes. Most of us gave up on the ale and stuck with glasses of chemic which at least stayed liquid. I’ve no idea how much chemic I supped that night, but I do know that after supping a lake of it I was as sober as a judge, if that is there is such a thing as a sober judge.” There were murmurs and nods of agreement at the shared experience of drinking large quantities of strong spirits in the bitter cold on the solstice evening and being relatively unaffected by it.
Some of the outsiders were puzzled as to what Brigitte had meant about her Uncle Michael being on duty, but being telt, “Michael is the local police sergeant, but he’s one of us and lives here,” dispelled the puzzlement.
In the bestside Aggie was saying, “The regular bottling(52) and baking sessions at the Bobbin Mill that came about after Zuhr’s meat and kidney pie filling bottling and baking day(53) are definitely a good thing, especially for the lasses on the edge of becoming women. Working with a load of older women helps ’em find their place as they step away from the last bit of their girlhood into womanhood, and you must admit they do inject a lot of fun into whatever task we’re on wi’. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what tekin that step that seemed so frightening at the time was like. I’ve never pretended to have any brains, but I’ve been a good mum and I reckon I’m an even better gran. However, despite that we all need reminding from time to time what it’s like for a lass of that age. Just because she’s sexually active doesn’t mek a lass a woman in her own eyes. She needs to work wi’ older lasses and see that she’s accepted as one of us in our eyes. It’s a journey of exploration for ’em and every experience is new, just like life is for a newborn.
“I’ve known this for decades, yet still I forget and need reminding from time to time. I was working wi’ Niamh Halifax the other day mekin blåbär pies. (54) She telt me she’d made bramble and apple pies and blackcurrant pies too afore, but for her it was a completely new experience. She didn’t see it as just mekin pies because they were different and she was so excited I had to look away to avoid my laughter upsetting her. It made me feel like I too was thirteen nigh on fourteen again. Nowadays we’re bottling all sorts of other things and turning other stuff in bottles into pies or whatever is needed, all wi’ help from lasses still at school. And that includes what amounts to tonnage of fruit and vegetables from that London Covent Garden wholesale market as our waggon drivers fetch up to us for nowt. I reckon that we need to mek sure this becomes a part of all Bearthwaite womenfolk’s lives quite separate from what Christine’s staff do for a living. It’s obvious the young lasses need that, but perhaps not so obvious that auld lasses like me need it too. It’s definitely fun to watch teenage lasses turn into young women in front of your eyes with all that that involves. Niamh doesn’t blush any more when she hears a reference some older lass meks to bedtime matters wi’ her auld man. That tells you she’s now a woman, a Bearthwaite woman.” The murmurs of agreement that went around lasted a minute or so as did the blushes on the faces of some of the younger lasses in the bestside.
Iðunn took over from Aggie, “Talking of bottling stuff, maybe three months since, my staff and I started working out how to reliably produce robust ten litre [17½ Imperial pint, 10½ US quarts] glass jars like Kilner or Mason jars with one hundred millimetre [4 inch] wide mouthed necks for Christine’s staff to bottle food in. They want bigger jars with wider mouths to mek their lives easier and to be able to bottle stuff faster, especially when there’s a glut of stuff being harvested locally or the menfolk bring a waggon load or even two of stuff in need of immediate processing up from London. Bigger jars would mek life a gey sight easier for Jeremy’s and Gladys’ staff and no doubt for a few others who cook for the visitors. Two gallon [9 litre, 10 US quart] jars are available in the UK with eighty-six millimetre mouths, but their price is stupid money, even buying from the manufacturers in St Helens by the waggon load. Five gallon [22·5 litre, 6 US gal] glass jars are available from the states with hundred and ten millimetre [4⅓ inch] lids, but again the price is stupid money. As well as ten litre jars we’re interested in producing twenty and fifty litres versions again with hundred millimetre closures. I’ve teken on nine apprentices who all came here from off the streets who’d said they had an interest in working glass and they’re all learning how to blow such jars. I don’t have the super sophisticated equipment that the major producers of jars and bottles use to minimise the amount of glass in each item, so I use more glass and give them their strength by thickness rather than by tightly controlled heating and cooling cycles. After all sand’s cheap enough.
“The initial intention was that the jars would seal with a food grade nitrile rubber sealing ring often referred to as a gasket and a four inch injection moulded poly acetal lid manufactured to the style of the commercially available plastic Tattler® lids which are manufactured at seventy and eighty six millimetres [2¾ and 3⅜ inches] across, to fit the so called regular and wide mouth jars. We started by referring to the four inch as as extra wide mouth, but now we call ’em super mouth. Bertie’s engineers have already produced the tooling to make the screw down rings to fit the threads on our glass jars and the moulds for forming the glass threads. Robina who is interested in injection moulding and extrusion of polymers is looking into mekin the four inch plastic lids from an acetal copolymer,(55) which is what Tattler® lids are made from, as soon as the injection moulding machine that one of Bertie’s lasses picked up for scrap price in Oldham has been restored. The engineers say that will tek maybe another month. Yuli is working on a new design of heating system for it that will work like those new fangled induction cookers work. The required mould has already been made that can mek the super lids four at a time. The rubber sealing rings are commercially available in a food grade nitrile rubber in a huge range of sizes including the super size for next to nothing apiece if bought in bulk, though investigations are underway to examine the feasibility of producing them or a substitute locally. Robina is also looking into the possibility of producing conventional metal lids with an integral soft rubber seal in the super size. Since they are purely for in house use and there is no intention to sell anything in such jars there are no legal implications involved in using the Tattler® closure mechanism.
“We are also looking at producing super sized glass lids that use the nitrile rubber sealing gaskets too. The only implication is the glass lids will be thicker than the plastic ones so the metal rings need to be deeper to reach the threads and actually screw down far enough to work properly. Christine telt me that some years over when they bought their first batch of Tattler® lids and gaskets they had a lot of trouble with a particular batch of eighty-six millimetre rings not holding onto the jar threads on genuine Ball®, Kerr® and Kilner® jars. Ball® and Kerr® jars are from the US and Kilner® from the UK. They initially assumed the rings were a defective batch, that was they did till they realised they worked fine on the much thinner metal lids with the integral soft rubber seal. It turned out that the dodgy rings were not as deep as other types and they failed to engage sufficiently with the glass threads to hold. Thicker glass lids would pose even more significant issues. However, now all their rings are made here in stainless steel and are deep enough to work effectively with all lids whether metal, plastic or glass.
“We and Christine’s staff ’ould prefer to use the metal lids with the integral soft rubber seal because the literature says they have a lower seal failure rate than Tattlers® or glass lids, both of which because they use the separate nitrile rubber gaskets need a slightly different process from the single piece metal lids to ensure a seal. Christine says that’s their experience too. It’s easy to see why they are slightly less reliable. The ring is tightened down on a metal lid a little more than on the other two types of lid before loading in to the canner. Once the canner has been turned off it can be left to depressurise and cool down, and the operator can leave it overnight to be unloaded the following day. The vacuum in the jars provides the seal. The other two lid types that use the gaskets have to have their screws tightened barely hand tight, and it takes a little experience to get it just right. Once the canner has been turned off and been allowed to depressurise and cool a little the jars have to be removed and the last bit of tightness applied to the rings to ensure the gaskets seal, and it has to be done whilst the jars are still hot, even when the contents are still bubbling. It’s a process that requires more care and personal protection equipment like a good heat and water proof apron and similar gloves too.
“Perhaps even more interesting is that a lot of the glass we use now we don’t make from just sand any more. We’ve started reusing jars and bottles that we are supplied with from all over. Strange ain’t it that not so lang ower we had a problem wi’ jars and they went through the crusher to produce sand for mekin concrete,(56) now we’re using some of ’em to mek jars wi’. Better yet some of the spots that the engineers collect auld fryer oil from, chip shops, restaurantes and the like get supplied wi’ pickled eggs and pickled onions in two and a half and five litre jars, [4½ and 9 Imperial pints, or 5½ and11 US pints] and they’re gey happy to get rid to someone who can reüse ’em. A few jars of jam or chutney every now and again keeps ’em more than happy to store the jars till we get round to collect ’em with the oil. The necks of the jar tops ain’t wide enough for our super closures and the threads ain’t right either, but it’s nay mither(57) to heat the tops up and reform them in a mould to what we want. The jar drops into the mould and an injection of hot air forces the really soft glass out into the new threads. Dirt cheap, fast to make big jars, not as big as the ten litre ones we have to blow from scratch, but gey useful naytheless.
“Thirty maybe forty years since, there used to be Kilner jars of various sizes made with red or orange plastic screw rings and glass tops used with gaskets. All the ones we’ve come across are seventy millimetre tops [2¾ inches]. The jars are still around but the plastic rings embrittled with time and few are intact now and what there are won’t be safe to use. The jars are available gey cheap because the threads on the jars won’t fit a metal screw ring and the plastic rings haven’t been made for decades. We considered making metal rings to fit the jars, but eventually decided it would be easier and in the interests of standardisation to reform the threads on the jars to take wide mouth closures, again gey cheap jars. Wi’ nine apprentices that are picking up the craft gey rapidly that can all reform the neck on an existing jar in less than two minutes and mek the glass tops even faster it’s a good thing that the engineers and brickies are already building our new bigger annealing(58) furnace. I’m thinking maybe once it’s ready and done a few successful test cycles to have the existing furnace replaced by another the same size as the new one. We’re still working on the twenty and the fifty litre jars, but we’ll get there eventually. If we manage to recruit a few more apprentices we plan to eventually do away with all the seventy millimetre so called regular mouthed half litre and litre jars [US pint and quart jars] by turning them into wide mouthed versions.”
“Where did these come from, Alf?” Dave asked indicating the barely dished flat plastic plates.
“Juliet and some of the lasses as work in the workshops wanted some plates for outside use. They said crockery got brock too easy outside. Paper was okay, but paper plates were a one use only which they said would be too dear in the long run, even if they had the advantage of being compostable. Plastic plates in the number they wanted were a hell of a price to buy for what they were, so they decided to vacuum form flat plastic sheet. These are some of the first test run. Juliet is interested in vacuum forming and had a tiny set up already. They decided to build their own vacuum forming machine because they couldn’t find one powerful enough cheap enough to do things this size. I’ve no idea what plastic these are made from but they’re washable and if need be they can be drawn down again in the vacuum former to reëstablish their shape. The next lot they’re going to draw down deeper, more like a dish. Most of the work going on in rubber and plastics is being pushed forward by lasses. I reckon they’ll be needing a big workshop just for the polymer work soon. Any roads, for outside eating we get these and proper cutlery because it don’t get brock outside. Seems weird, but I dare say we’ll soon get used.”
“I may be a grocer, but I’ve no idea what this vegetable is, Alf. It looks like a squash of some sort, but it don’t taste owt like a squash, nor like a sweet potato neither. I like it and it goes gey well wi’ Jeremy’s barbecue sauce and the venison, but I’d like to know what it is. You any idea?”
“Not a clue, but I know who will know. Harry! Over here a minute if you will, Lad, and fetch a bottle of chemic whilst you’re about it.” As soon as Harry arrived he put his tray down on the table and poured three glasses of some innocuous whisky looking liquid into three glasses. “You any idea what this vegetable is that you fetched up from down yonder?”
“Aye, it’s a yam of some sort, but don’t ask me what the fu― Oops, I mean what the hell a yam is, but Jeremy will know for sure. Mind even when he tells you you’ll be no better off. I can tell you what he’ll say now, that it’s some kind of warm climate vegetable that won’t grow here without hot house protection. Go easy wi’ that chemic, Lads. It’s from the Faroe Islands, and is as strong as Polish spirit, well over eighty percent for sure. I’m not certain how Adio came across it because he don’t like going anywhere that’s likely to be that cold. Good taste to it mind, soft, like a really high quality single malt. I’d enjoy it whilst you can because there were only a couple of drums of it which is only forty-four of those big whisky bottles that Gee got aholt on,(59) and half a dozen have already bin supped. Young Peter and some of his mates have gone for another half dozen. Now if you don’t mind, Lads, my plate needs fillt. I’m running short on venison and another tatie will go down a treat too. A piece of advice, Lads, put your butter on the tatie before the sauce, you get more butter soaked in that way.” At that Harry left in the direction of the spits where venison was being carved on a nearby table.
“Well,” said Joe to the large contingent from the taproom, “Since the County Council Highways department don’t exist any more and both the new unitary county authorities have to put highways maintenance out to tender obviously we’re no longer given any surplus road scutchings.(60) The Bearthwaite Highways Group, that’s the name that Murray’s bean counters and tax dodgers(61) have given to me and the lads for any that didn’t know, are tekin on a lot of that work. Seemingly most of the other gangs o’ lads out there don’t do a very good job, so we don’t need to put in the cheapest bid to get most of the work we’re interested in. If the councils want the scutchings they have to bid for them just like anyone else or we just walk away from the job. Any scutchings we can sell we do, and the rest we put on the lonning, so we never have a bloody great heap of ’em anywhere as will need shifted twice. As fast as they come off a road they are elevated into a waggon and teken to wherever they are going to be used where another gang o’ Bearthwaite lads gets on wi’ laying and compacting ’em. It all works out quite nicely really. Most of our machines are what Beebell bought off the two counties.(62) That’s who we got the asphalt pavers,(63) the road scutchers,(64) planers some folk call ’em, and all the bigger vibrating rollers from, though we bought some of the smaller rollers and the wacker plates(65) elsewhere. With a bit of luck most of the potholes in the lonning will soon be things of the past. That’s me. Some bugger else can talk whilst I get a chance to eat and sup.
Dave said, “I’ve had about as much as I can hold for half an hour or so. I’ve a small tale for you. Given the winter not long since experienced I came across an old one but a gold one on the internet that I considered appropriate. A little bird was flying during a blizzard. It was so cold that he couldn’t fly any more. He fell out of the air near a barn. Helpless, he lay shivering on the ground when a passing cow came by and shat all over him. It was only a few seconds before the bird realised that he felt warm and it was good. So happy to be warm for the first time in weeks the bird warbled his joy. A passing cat hearing this pulled the bird out of the shit, shook the bulk of it off the bird and then ate him. There are three lessons to be learnt here. One, not everyone who shits on you is an enemy. Two, not everyone who pulls you out of the shit is a friend. Three, when deep in the shit it’s best to keep your mouth shut.”
Once the laughter died, “That,” said Harry, “Tells me it’s time for a pint and for some more bait.”
Alf said, “Now we’re all full enough to entertain the pudding when it arrives I reckon I’ve time for a tale before it does. After Dave’s tale, on to a more serious note. Sally Wright has finally developed her new breed of tatie derived from Pink Fir Apple the Victorian potato. Pink Fir Apple is one of the oldest known potato varieties. As all the local lads will know, it produces unusually long, very knobbly, pink skinned tubers with a waxy, yellow and a distinctively nutty flavour. The flavour has long been known to improve when the potatoes are served cold, which is why it’s often been referred to as ‘the salad potato’. The only sensible way to peel the tubers is to boil ’em first, allow ’em to cool and then skin ’em by hand wi’ a pointed knife which is why they get used so often as salad taties. That and the taste of course. Pink Fir Apple tubers are perfect for boiling, chipping, or eating as a salad potato, but not much good as a baker because they only tek up a bit of butter and gey slowly at that.
“As I said, it also has extremely knobbly tubers, more akin to some Jerusalem artichokes than a tatie. They are difficult to peel or otherwise process apart from what I said, but it’s double work to have to go through that and then have to warm the tubers up again. Mind if you get ’em skinned and then mek chips [US fries] wi’ ’em whole they are a treat. However, Pink Fir Apple is a huge plant that produces vast amounts of spreading foliage that won’t stand upright, but instead falls to lie flat on the ground making it an inconvenient bugger to grow. It is also a super late maincrop variety that requires at least twenty-two weeks from chitting(66) to harvest, often twenty-six. It’s the latest tatie I’ve ever heard of, so elsewhere is at risk from blight or even from early frosts. Pink Fir Apple’s best descendant to date has long been Anya(67) which has many of the desired qualities, but unfortunately it’s nowhere near as prolific in terms of yield per area of land planted, or putting things into perspective, at least it ain’t on our soil in our climate. Most of Bearthwaite’s folk enjoy eating Pink Fir Apple but it’s a pain for us at the allotments to grow and probably even worse for cooks to deal with.
“Sally in consultation with me and numerous other tatie folk has been crossing Pink Fir Apple and Anya with all and anything she’s bin able to find in an attempt to produce a smooth, super waxy, salad potato that has less foliage than Pink Fir Apple, and preferably one that crops earlier than Pink Fir Apple too. Over the last few years she’s produced hundreds of varietals, most of no particular virtue, or at least they were no better than the varieties we already had, but as I kept telling her when she began to loose heart, ‘Keep going, Lass. It doesn’t matter how many failures you have because it’ll only take one success in your entire lifetime to wipe them all out.’ Sally crossed Astrid’s(68) first earlies with Johnto’s sixteen week chippers(69) in an attempt to produce a more waxy first early. She also crossed Bearthwaite Queen, my eighteen week maincrop that I found a single volunteer(70) plant of and propagated decades ago, with Pink Fir Apple in an attempt to produce a rather later cropping boiler. Both were reasonable if not runaway successes. In any plant breeding scheme you have to be gey systematic about all you do, but luck does have a part to play too. Genetics is the ultimate gamblers game, a roulette wheel with possibly hundreds of millions of numbers on it.
“However, she hit the jackpot when she crossed the two crosses. She’s called it Sally’s Salad Solanum.(71) It’s a mid season waxy salad potato taking about sixteen weeks to harvest. It produces huge quantities of middling down to hens’ egg sized, smooth, oval, pinkish tubers from a relatively medium sized plant with an upright growth habit. Like Pink Fir Apple they are yellow fleshed and they have the distinctively nutty taste of Pink Fir Apple. Looks like we’ll only be growing Pink Fir Apple just to keep the variety going with our own seed tubers. We don’t like buying seed tubers in from outside because of the disease risk, so all the varieties we wish to keep even if we don’t wish to grow ’em on a large scale every year we grow every year on a small scale, just enough to provide the following years seed taties. However, they tek it in turn to be grown on a larger scale every few years. It’s like an insurance against disaster. That way we’ve always got a decent supply of seed tubers of all our preferred varieties just in case of a problem with any of the varieties we grow in bulk every year.
“Sally’s Salad Solanum is not widely available yet, but as soon as we’ve propagated enough seed tubers to grow some on a field crop scale, rather than for just a few stitches(72) down at the allotments, the Peabodys are going to sow, grow and harvest what ever we can supply them with. We’ll grow most on fields within the valley and the rest on a single field as far away from the valley as is available at the time. As always we’ll put Tuskers on the valley fields after the harvest to ratch out as many remaining tubers missed by the harvester and the pickers as possible to minimise volunteers the following year. All our fields here in the valley are already bounded by hedges that are pig proof. If it needs it Gervin Maxwell’s fencers are going to fence the outside field whilst the hedges grow prior to their first laying, so we can do the same job there with barrows of long domesticated pig breeds, we’ll probably use the Furness and the Delver barrows, which will keep the powers that be happy. They’d probably be okay now even if we did put Tuskers out there, but there’s no need and we don’t need the hassle till it becomes a fight worth the fighting. Looks like the pudding is on its way lads. Don’t know about any of you, but I don’t need a clean plate. I’m man enough to cope wi’ a bit of barbecue sauce on my toffee pudding.” Amidst the laughter the men swapped their knives for spoons pleased to see the usual gallon jugs of custard were being provided.
“Hell I enjoyed that, Lads. You used to be in the navy, Seb. You any ideas about what went on when that ship MV Dali hit the bridge at Baltimore a few year back? The media at the time seemed to be full of reports by folk as didn’t actually seem to know owt and couldn’t tell a straight tale, and that inquiry report that’s bin published is about as much use as a chocolate fireguard. And what does MV mean?”
“MV just means motor vessel. As opposed to say SS which means steamship or PS for Paddle steamer. There are a lot of such prefixes, but most are relatively uncommon. However, to your main question. Two things are definite about all ships. There is a minimum speed a ship has to be making way at to be able to respond to the helm. It’s referred to as having steerageway. That is to say below that minimum speed she is not steerable, and it’s different for every ship. Second unless a ship has the ability to steer she will just keep going in whatever direction she is moving unless she is acted on by some other force or forces. I said moving rather than heading because if for any reason she’s going say sideways that’s the direction she’ll keep going in. A ship like MV Dali with a total power loss, as all reports have always been agreed about, loses not just propulsion but steering too. Standard procedure under the circumstances is to drop the anchor and I can only assume that the reports that said at the time that was done are true because independent reports say the ship had lost some two knots in the few minutes before impact took place. She was said to be doing above eight knots when she lost power and a bit more than six when the bridge strike occurred. Given the loaded tonnage of the Dali that is a huge loss of momentum that couldn’t have just happened without a large force involved, a force like the drag produced by her anchor. All possible things seemed to have been done because there was little time in which to do anything. According to numerous independent reports, from losing power to impact was only four minutes and the bridge had been closed to traffic in that time. All of which the inquiry report agrees with.
“From what I read at the time the Dali had been subject to an adequate inspection regime and was fit to sail. The authorities looked into whether any of the crew were aware of anything to suggest the contrary. An anonymous source is said to have told the Associated Press that an alarm on the ship's refrigerated containers went off while the ship was docked, it was postulated that was likely due to an inconsistent power supply. I don’t trust the veracity of anonymous reports like that, especially the rider that that was likely due to an erratic power supply. Was it or wasn’t it? That sounds like someone wanting to be important and speculating about the alarm after the event if indeed it went off at all. Why was the matter not reported? Did the alarm remain active, just stop or what? Anyway the initial official report didn’t refer to it and the inquiry report dismissed its relevance. I read that several things were being considered and dodgy fuel was one of them which has been deemed to be unlikely, but not impossible, which isn’t helpful. Too, I read the impact of the Dali would have been somewhere between three and six times that of a Saturn Five rocket on launch. If that’s true there’re not many things that could resist that kind of force. As to the bridge, it was what it was and it seems unlikely to have been able to withstand the impact whatever they did or did not do. Recommended procedures current at the time were followed. Doubtless,” Seb looked sceptical as he continued, “lessons will be learnt, and recommendations will follow, or so the initial report said. May be they will, but somehow I doubt it. The inquiry report is to say the least vague and is obviously unwilling to apportion blame. The insurers will have a field day in court and I doubt if the legalities will be settled before we’re all safely underground.”
“So what do you think about it all, Seb?” asked Phil the Mill.
“Big ship, fully loaded. Small bridge built to a design such that one damaged spar results in catastrophic failure of the whole thing. Human nature being what it is, mainly out on the make, what do I think? I think it was inevitable somewhere, sometime, and there will be more such incidents as ships get bigger and bridges get older and folk are unwilling to spend the necessary money on maintenance and replacement. Same with dams and tunnels, in fact with all infrastructure. That’s what I think. I reckon there’re few folk who realise just how different this spot is. Georgette was worried about the integrity of the oldest part of the dam here and wasn’t prepared to do the job because it put folks’ live at risk. Result? A total new dam. No chances were taken with folks’ lives. That’s bloody rare these days. That’s what I think.”
Jym as usual had started her Saturday evening in the bestside. Unusually Jess, who lived outside Penruddock maybe thirty-five miles away from Bearthwaite, had joined her having left Ross her husband in the taproom. Elle asked, “How did the pair of you end up working for NCSG? When Harriet and Gustav started looking to adopt you were barely mentioned or known about anywhere. They heard about you from an LGBT+ contact of Harriet’s rather than an official source and despite the time it took to approve Gustav because he’s German they were parents in a fraction of the time they thought it would take. Then all of a sudden in a matter of a couple of years you became as significant a player in child welfare as Social Services. More so depending on whom one talks to. How did all that happen?”
Jess said, “Going back to the beginnings of my career may help explain that. After I left university with the ink still wet on my degree in social work I started work for Social Services in one of the Liverpool area offices. After the reorganisation, due to several tragedies too many, the offices that existed then no longer do. To say I was appalled at how some Social workers behaved and treated their clients would be a monstrous understatement. I stuck it out for five years, but the reorganisation had changed nothing, things were getting rapidly worse and the bosses regarded me as a dangerous boat rocker who would eventually become a whistle blower. I was just there doing nothing, and I think they were hoping eventually I’d just quit or move on to be a pain to some other area office. Eventually I heard that NCSG was being formed by a group of folk like me, seriously upset and outraged Social workers. I quit Social Services, joined NCSG and I’ve been with them ever since, right from the beginning. Another Social Services reorganisation took place in Liverpool a couple of years after I joined NCSG, but seemingly that hasn’t changed anything either. In the beginning there was just enough in the kitty at NCSG to keep us fed. We didn’t go onto proper salaries till we’d been going for over a twelvemonth. NCSG is a registered charity, though we get sizeable government grants for all sorts of things. The major difference between us and any Social Services department is public perception. We are trusted they are not. Yes, the bigots who are anti the LGBT+ don’t like or trust us, but they don’t like or trust Social Services either. We, like everyone, make mistakes, but we admit it as soon as we are aware of it and try to fix things as soon as possible. We don’t play politics, for us it’s all about the kids and nothing else matters. Any money offered with any strings at all we just turn down and then publish the offer, details of the strings and our response.
“The result is we haven’t been offered money with strings for a long time now. That we’ve put politicians, high court judges, senior police officers and media top dogs, to name but a few examples from the establishment, in gaol over the years makes the system nervous about dealing with us. However, the really decent folk in all walks of life think well of us and are more than willing to offer whatever help they can. Too, it’s said to be a tough interview to get a job with NCSG in any capacity. I would refute that, for the right folk, caring folk, it’s ridiculously easy, it’s just that most Social workers would have their applications filed almost immediately into the shredder. Many of our case workers don’t have a degree in anything never mind social work. As such they wouldn’t even be considered for a job with Social Services which is exactly what’s wrong with Social Services. We want folk who care, not folk with a piece of paper that says they went to university. If they’ve got one great, but it’s neither a requirement nor what we look at first.
“All our staff are easily bright enough to acquire a good degree, it’s just that some of them had other priorities at the time when it would have been appropriate. Once we obtained the right to handle cases without any Social Services involvement our case load went through the roof. A major difference between us and Social Services departments is that we have no issues with however folk identify, and we don’t employ folk with problems about that. Our contracts say that if such is discovered after starting work the employment contract is null and that person is gone on the spot. That means virtually all of the LGBT+ who wish to adopt register with us rather than anywhere else. That in turn means we can always place children with so called LGBT+ issues very quickly because we have prospective parents on our books for whom that is a non issue. We have become the adoption agency of last resort for Social Services and other adoption agencies too. That we operate over the entire British Isles including the Irish Republic, the Isle of Man and the Channel Islands(73) rather than just one small area means that we can quickly match potential parents with children who need them even if they are a thousand miles apart.
“Our reaction time is much faster than any Social Service office’s because unlike them we only have senior staff on the phones round the clock rather than some kid who’s just left school. Whoever you speak to on our phones is someone senior and experienced enough to make immediate decisions. We don’t have to convene a case conference to decide what to do which can take all day. Whenever Social Services want help it all has to be done officially which all takes time. We ring up the police and ask for a favour and it happens immediately. It cuts two ways when they want help they ask us for a favour because they know when they need a suitably qualified person immediately they’ll get one from us immediately rather than having to wait possibly twelve hours for a Social worker. Usually our immediate advice is to get the children to the nearest pædiatric centre and we shall meet them there. We have lists of all such, so can tell them where to take the children, and we will contact an appropriate pædiatrician there in advance. If we need to take a child from one end of the country to the other we just buy the plane tickets, often the airline will waive the cost, they always do if a lot of the seats are empty, but even if not we know the money will arrive from somewhere eventually, even if we have to ask one of our major sponsors for a handout. I suppose all that is why we grew so rapidly in most folks’ eyes, but to those of us who were there from the beginning it was a tediously long, slow haul, mostly devoid of sufficient resources, not just money. Jym?”
Jym said, “Like Jess I have a degree in social work. However, I never wanted to work for Social Services, the truth is I never wanted to have anything to do with them. I was a child that just got dumped into the system and as a result I don’t have a lot of time for them. My parents adopted me and my sister Zvi when I was fourteen and she was sixteen. Up till then both our lives had been pretty grim. Dad’s lovely, I suppose Zvi and myself are daddy’s girls really. He was the one who had us renamed to protect us from our pasts. Mum’s kind of off the wall a bit, hence our names. Zvi is a boy’s name from somewhere and you know about mine. Don’t get me wrong neither of us would ever swap her for a normal mum, whatever that means, but she is definitely one of a kind. I’d never left Cheshire till I went to Manchester Metropolitan University which wasn’t exactly a long way away from home. I read Social work because of my past, not that I thought I’d ever use it. I wasn’t overly impressed by my lecturers, the course or the other students. After university I joined the army as a trainee military police officer. For various reasons I was wondering where my life was going and though the army was okay I couldn’t see me spending my entire working life as an army officer or as a police woman. Thing was I couldn’t see anything else I would rather have done. Then maybe a couple of years ago I heard about NCSG. A phone call and an interview later I was on my way out of the army and into the NCSG. Given my time in the Royal Military Police it was kind of obvious that I’d become an investigator rather than a case worker. Then I met Grant and became a Bearthwaite farmer’s wife with three adopted eight year old sons and I have a pair of twins one of each.”
Alice asked, “What does Zvi do, Jym?”
“She’s a secondary school maths teacher. Now a divorcee with two girls, Jilly is four and Charli is six. Her husband turned to drink and became violent. I was at Mum and Dad’s when she rang for help. I went round and he turned on me, so I beat the living crap out of him and tossed him out of the back door to sleep it off. Then I rang for an ambulance for Zvi and I rang Mum and Dad to come round for the girls. When he came round Zvi’s old man called the police, but I’d already asked for them to go to the hospital. After talking to the doctors about Zvi they arrested Shithead and charged him with about six different crimes. He got three months and a few hundred hours of community service. The magistrate told him if he’d laid a hand on either of the girls he’d have sent him down for five years. Zvi told me he subsequently left the area. She’s been seeing someone else. Dad says he seems to be a decent bloke, but so did her ex to begin with. I was on the phone to her a few evenings ago and I got the impression it was already over. When I asked her point blank she admitted it hadn’t lasted a month, but she hadn’t wanted to tell Mum and Dad. I invited her here for a holiday with the girls. She said give her a couple of days to get organised. I don’t reckon she’s much good at picking men and although I didn’t say anything to Zvi I believe my nieces need a dad. So I had a chat with Elle and Murray. Both agreed if she could fit and could teach they’d sort things out for her. She needs to find a decent man before she loses all confidence in herself and her faith in men. I’m confident she’ll fit here and I know she’s a good teacher. I’m going to Carlisle to collect her and the girls from the station on Monday before dinner. Her train is supposed to arrive at five forty-eight. It looks like we’re being called to join the men outside, Ladies. Gladys, will there be any lemonade outside because I fancy an iced shandy?”
Gladys laught and replied, “There will be ice by the bucket load, and if you fancy a long cool drink why not try one of the local pops, or even the local lemonade pop? They brew them in the brewery and they have so little alcohol in them there is no duty on them. Most of the botanicals are locally grown, though some aren’t. The citrus pops are flavoured with peel and fruit provided by the wholesalers at Covent Garden Market in London for free. They give us loads of stuff so they don’t have to pay to have it taken away the day after the market is closed which is two days a week. Even the men here are prepared to forsake ale for them every now and again in the heat, so they must be good.”
Yuli the Bearthwaite electro magnetic induction expert, had been upgrading some of the windmill electricity generators for a fortnight, but matters had ground to a halt due to delays in obtaining some rather specialised tooling he required. “This tooling you need, Yuli. Is it owt we could help with?”
“Probably, Bertie, but it will be better if you have a prototype to work from. So for the moment best if we just wait.”
“What’s the delay due to, Lad?”
“I’m not sure, but I reckon they must be opening a new shaft in the mine where they get the rare earth minerals they need.”
“Is there another source anywhere? What is it they need?”
“No the stuff’s only found in one place on Earth, Bertie, and it’s used in small quantities in just about everything to do with electrical engineering these days which is why anything and everything you order at the moment has such a long delivery time on it. It’s called Chineseium.”(74) All the men who usually drank in the taproom were aware that Yuli had a good sense of humour but that was a con worthy of Dave, and the laughter that rose up into the warm May evening startled the birds on the local roofs and nearby trees.
Vincent standing with the aid of his sticks to ease his legs from the discomfort of the hard wooden chair he’d been sitting in said, “Thanks, Love,” to the young lass who’d brought him a couple of cushions. Once all were settled he started to tell his tale, “A fortnight since last Wednesday, I received a phone call from an acquaintance up in the Highlands who works on a shooting estate. They were having a major cull on the Saturday and he wanted to know if I was still interested in venison carcasses. Naturally I said yes and we exchanged all the details of when and where collection would take place. I telt him if it could be done fast enough and he could get the carcasses to no more than four collection points where a big artic could get to ’em on the Sunday, preferably gey early Sunday morning not long after sunrise, I’d have ’em collected in waggons pulling forty foot fridge boxes and there’d be no need for his lads to do any gralloching. He was gey pleased about that and said it would be no mither (75) for his lads to use the Land Rovers to be tekin all the carcasses to a single central point for collection. Harry and Jake had set off in their waggons and, much to the satisfaction of all involved, ended up doing a complete clearance bringing back seventy-two tons of venison between them down from the Highlands.
“Both were well overweight, and they were relieved when after a couple of phone calls they discovered that Turk, could wait a few hours and meet them north of Sterling in the early evening. Turk, who’d just tipped there and was about to run for home empty, had a big box on the back. They transferred some load off both of their waggons and all returned home legal as regards the weight. Turk’s box wasn’t a fridge box, but the carcasses had chilled in the fridge boxes which had been turned down to minimum temperature, and they were still damned cold when Turk reached my yard just over midnight. Unfortunately there was no where to put the carcasses due to the sheep meat taken from the Needles Fells site.(76) A massive overnight gralloching and butching effort from the lads as can do the job and an even more heroic canning effort from Christine’s lasses, along with older kids and other folk redistributing meat and offal throughout every freezer in the Bearthwaite valley and the overnight conversion of a building into a freezer store using interlocking insulating panels by some of Bertie’s refrigeration technicians solved the matter, but having had to leave the carcasses in the fridge boxes there over night with the fridge donkey engines(77) running made us all realise that a much greater meat storage capability is required and we need another big fridge box trailer which Alf is looking into. That’s why the extra barbecue was called for the entire village the night on the green rather than a smaller affair behind the Dragon. The kids were all up for it. Owt for a bit of excitement and something different. Mind that probably means I’m just a big kid too.”
April, the lass who’d provided Vincent with his cushions, kissed his cheek and said, “There’s nowt wrong with that, Granddad. Even auld folk like you and Gran are entitled to have some fun.”
“What do you do with all the guts and the like Vincent?” asked Quentin who though an outsider was a regular face.
“All the pluck, that’s heart, liver and lungs goes into haggis along with other stuff too of course. The stomachs and guts are washed and the contents go to the compost pits at the allotments. The guts are used as sausage casings and the stomachs are cleaned, and boiled in a few changes of water before being used in a variety of foods to eat. The minced tripe cooked with finely chopped brain and equally finely chopped onions makes the ever popular highly spiced White Soup. A lot of that is canned by Christine’s folk. That used to be spiced entirely with ground pepper, but a modern improvement uses some local grown hot chiles dried and ground for chile powder and other spices too, it’s more like a curry soup these days, though it’s still white. Some tripe is chopped not too finely and ends up in brawn along with a lot of the head meat which is set using the jelly and meat from the feet. Some along with some head meat goes into boilt herbed sausages which are popular with a lot of the lads for their bait, for they eat well cold wi’ mustard or horseradish. Every last bit that’s edible is eaten, but it’s why Rosie my missus needs such a large staff working in the back of the shop. A lot of the brawn, feet, heads, tails and the like we give away to folk as can mek good use of it. Christine teks a lot of the meat for canning and we and Dave and Lucy in the shop sell sliced roast venison as a sandwich meat just like sliced boilt ham or roast beef, and of course a lot goes on the spits on an evening like the night.”
So how’s it all going with your golf course these days, Sophia?” asked Elle who was a keen player of the game.
A few years before, Sophia who amongst other sporting related activities was the Bearthwaite Educational Establishment’s golf coach had been more than pleased when interviewed to discover that Bearthwaite had a nine hole course. Hole one teed off from the village green driving up towards a green on the north side of the metalled road leading to the reservoir. The second tee took a player up to a green at the foot of the dam which had been temporarily replaced by a rather Heath Robinson(78) affair whilst the new dam was being constructed in front of the original one because the construction works had taken over three quarters of the original green. The third tee took one along the north side of the reservoir to a green set well back from the water’s edge. The fourth tee was a short walk from the third hole and took one to a green not far from the force(79) at the valley head. From the fifth tee one drove to the western end of the reservoir then along the northern side of the upper reach of the Bearthwaite Beck to a small and tightly placed green.
A walk over the beck footbridge took one to the sixth tee from where one drove down to a green half way down the southern side of the reservoir. After a long walk to the seventh tee one drove back down almost to the new dam works to find a green infamous amongst local players for the vicious placement of it bunkers. From the eighth tee one drove back to outside the west of the village where the green doubled as a sports field for pupils at the Bearthwaite Educational Establishment. The nearby ninth tee took one back on to the village green. There were long walks between the greens and the next tee and typically players wishing a full round would then play the nine holes in reverse. For their tenth hole they would tee off from the village green tee again driving west, but to the south of the metalled road and the reservoir. Thereafter players teed off from marked places towards the greens they had previously approached from the opposite sides. Their last hole was back on the village green not far away from where they had teed off from twice.
“Not too badly at all, Elle. Thane and Preston the school’s groundsmen who manage not just the school’s playing fields, but the golf course, the village green and all the lonning verges too are still upset that their work on the second green has been completely destroyed by the works at the new dam, but are happy that their work elsewhere on the new greens has given us what they see as a proper eighteen hole course. They both play, so are keen to see that all is done properly. The farm land recovered from the bracken by Gunni Gris’ Tuskers and Delvers has proven to be more than sufficient to turn the nine hole course into a full eighteen hole course with very few compromises. The really rather inadequate fifth green has now been replaced with a suitable green on the south side of the beck, so one has to drive over the beck. The sixth tee is now uphill to the west of where it was on the newly recovered grazing land to make way for the new fifth green. Some of the course is now on grazing land more of less permanently used, mostly by sheep, but sometimes by cattle too, but appropriate installation of cattle grids, kissing gates(80) and stiles has made the matter feasible. Too, William Gwent the current chairman of the local authority planning sub committee is a golf fanatic.”
Sophia didn’t say in the presence of outsiders that William who though he wasn’t aware of it had the job that Buthar was after, so it would be a good idea to pacify him in advance because sooner or later Buthar was certain to take it off him. Buthar was already known to locals to be working behind the scenes to support a candidate to take William’s seat on the Council off him which would render him ineligible to take any position on it which would render any head to head confrontation over the position irrelevant.
“Like the previous nine holes, each of the new nine holes has been named and naming the tenth, the first new hole, after William and providing him with a free life membership has meant he became a supporter of the course rather than a sitter on the fence. At the Bearthwaite green at the eighteenth hole there is now an arrow pointing towards the Green Dragon with a sign underneath it that reads, ‘The nineteenth hole is this way. No golf shoes allowed in the building upon penalty of sobriety.’ Some of the kids at school who play came up with a good idea that gives us two completely different courses for very little effort. For a full eighteen holes we used to play the first nine holes anticlockwise round the water then the second nine clockwise round it. The kids asked why couldn’t we still do that, but with all eighteen holes. That way we don’t need ever to get stale or bored with it. At the moment it’s the Bearthwaite anticlockwise course and clockwise course. The two courses are very different due to the placement of the tees and the somewhat different hazards like bunkers and trees one has to deal with. Eventually we’ll come up with better names than those. I’ve not said owt yet, but I’d be pleased to go for the Bearthwaite Preston course and the Bearthwaite Thane course. Those two men have put hundreds of hours of unpaid time into the new course including the huge amount of extra work that was required to enable play both ways around.”
“I reckon we’ve all heard that the plan to repeatedly trawl the run that the trawl always takes for the trout to find charr henfish to strip for eggs and cockfish to strip for milt(81) has been sucessful. How successful, Ralph? Do you know yet?” asked Tommy as he refilled glasses with Bearthwaite brown behind the bar.
“Originally we debated trawling for trout at the same time as for charr breeding stock. After some talk we binned that as a bad idea, Tommy. We all agreed to focus on one job at a time and do it as well as possible. Christine said we’d enough trout in store and if we went short for a couple of months it wasn’t as if we’d starve, for we could always eat sheep. We all thought that was amusing because we’ve still got an embarrassment of sheep in every damned freezer in the valley. So we returned all fish other than the charr to the water immediately. Charr like salmon are said to spawn from late autumn to early spring. We trawled for them in early February. Twenty three egg laden henfish were taken, roughly half of which were fully mature, and successfully stripped of eggs before tagging and immediate release back to the water. Thirty-eight mostly somewhat immature cockfish were successfully stripped of milt, again before tagging and release. None of the fish had been caught and tagged before, so there’re seventy three different charr in the water that we know about, all had been taken by the trawl.
“So far none have been caught by anglers which the literature says is typical because charr prefer the deeper water where few of our anglers bother to fish. Too, the deepest water is on the south side of the reservoir, though it’s hardly really deep, and we only trawl along the north side where the bottom has less rock which can damage the net. The literature reckoned on two and a half to eight and a half thousand eggs per henfish depending on age and size. I reckoned probably an average of between four and five thousand per henfish which has yielded over a hundred thousand alevin.(82) That of course is an estimate, but it will be not too far of the mark. The mortality rate in the hatchery thus far has been minimal compared with what it would certainly have been in the wild though after release even at six inches [15cm] many will be eaten by lager predatory fish. We want to construct more tanks so we can reduce the mortality by releasing the charr at about a foot long. If we release them as soon as they reach a foot the remaining young charr we expect will grow faster as they’ll have less competition for food from bigger fish. They are growing rapidly and we already have a few as long as nine inches [225mm] though most are only six inches [150mm] long.
“There’s a fair amount of material in the literature concerning the artificial fertilisation and raising of charr, some helpful, most not. Most of the world’s production of charr comes from Iceland, Norway and Canada. If I’m running the Bearthwaite charr raising program, I don’t want owt to do with any Norwegian raising of any species of fish. We could get damned by association with their salmon raising industry,(83) though Scotland’s reputation is rapidly going the same way according to the media. Canada is a long way away and after looking into the matter I have some doubts about the wisdom of dealing with them. Due to her translations of the new to the world sǫgur, Annalísa has become quite a celebrity in Iceland and folk over there seem keen to assist us in what for us is a new venture. That contact has already proven useful, and seems to have dramatically increased our fishes’ growth rate. We were running our water, which we thought of as cold, not cold enough and have now installed knackered lager chiller units that the refrigeration engineers scrounged for next to nowt and then made ’em work. That has improved matters, but I’m still talking to small scale producers in Italy, Austria and Ireland.
“I’d like to know more about what’s going on at Ennerdale where they have been promoting the natural spawning of the Ennerdale charr. Ennerdale charr don’t spawn in Ennerdale Water itself but in the gravel bedded river Lisa that runs into it. I’ve been wondering if our charr spawn in the upper reach of the Bearthwaite Beck rather than in the water, or maybe even as well as in the water, so I’ve set up motion detector triggered cameras to watch, but I’ve not noticed any charr in the beck yet, but the spawning season will have been over for months now. Well it has if the literature is to be trusted as relevant to us here. I’ll try again next year. I wondered about that because the upper reach of the Bearthwaite Beck is fast flowing water running over a mixed size gravel bed, which provides ideal spawning ground and it’s damned cold. Charr are an arctic fish that range further north than any other fish species that we know about. The UK has to be considered as the southern most extremity of their range so maybe things are different for them here. Ennerdale Water is only fifty or sixty miles away and we could help each other though the number of so called competent authorities involved over there may make the whole idea a poisoned chalice. I certainly don’t want any official relationship with the Forestry Commission, the National Trust, Natural England and especially not United Utilities who are all said to be leading the project.
“When I mentioned that to Adalheidis she asked me if I’d had any contact with the Ennerdale project. I replied no, not yet and asked her why she was interested. She said she’d leave it that way if she were in my shoes, and added that if they contacted me I shouldn’t reply but just pass the contact over to Annalísa or herself. She explained that she didn’t want them to know what we’ve got here or what we’re doing with any of it. In fact she didn’t want them to know owt about Bearthwaite at all. She was sure enough to bet a bottle of decent malt on it that them knowing owt would do us damage in the long term. Said she’d rather win a battle against them by not having to go to court at all and I was to just keep talking with folk abroad, especially the Icelanders because they thought sufficiently well of us to be antagonistic to any who set up in opposition to us including any so called competent authorities from over here. I could see where she was coming from and agreed that if she was convinced getting involved with any of them was a poisoned chalice that we certainly didn’t have to taste it did we? As an aside none of the Forestry Commission, the National Trust, Natural England nor United Utilities are particularly well thought of by the Icelandic folk I’m in contact with. I haven’t found out why yet, but I’m sure given patience I’ll be telt.”
“Don’t know about any of you lads, but I’m happy to stop out here in the warm yapping and supping. Watching the kids meks a pleasant change from playing dominoes for once. What do the rest of you reckon?”
The men looked around at each other and eventually John said, “Aye. I can live wi’ that, Alf. I’ll catch the eye of a couple of young lads and ask ’em to fetch a few bottles of the rare stuff in a minute. Just push that bottle this way, Turk, if you would please, Lad. Who’s the tall lass chatting with Brigitte, Gustav?”
Gustav looked in the direction of Brigitte his daughter and replied, “She’s someone who doesn’t exist, John. Someone who will have to be hidden from all eyes for a few years because bad folk will come looking for her if even a whisper of her leaves this spot. I’m making arrangements for her to disappear, and I think that’s all I wish to say and all I should say.”
The other men nearby just nodded and John said, “If you need help with owt just ask, Gustav. Ask any of us. Kids shouldn’t need to be hid like that. If any come asking about any here, child or adult, none will know owt and the bastards will be escorted out of the valley. Naturally with the minimum of force required.” At that there were cynical laughs. All assumed that the girl was a refugee from the streets wanted by a criminal bunch who if they heard about her presence in the valley would believe that Bearthwaite had stolen a whore in the making and was costing them money. There were a number of such girls at Bearthwaite who were not to be talked about. Gustav was pleased that Peter had taken him seriously about disguising as a girl,(84) yet was also bothered by the risks his children were taking. However, he knew it would be pointless taking them to task over it. Either on their own was a formidably strong willed force, both of them together fighting for what they believed in and the safety of each other would be impossible to convince that they were taking unjustifiable risks. All he could do was ask them to inform their mother of their actions. John shouted to a couple of youngsters he knew were familiar with the cellar of the dragon because they regularly helped Peter to bottle spirits from two hundred litre drums, “William, Odin, if you’ll kindly fetch us a couple of cases of chemic there’re are a couple of bottles of brown apiece in it for you.”
“Owt in particular you want, Uncle John? Or shall we find a selection?”
“A selection would do us fine, Lads, thank you. Just collect your ale whilst you’re on the job, Lads.”
After time there were the usual eight gathered back in the bestside of the Green Dragon. Elle, Gladys, Harriet and Brigitte accompanied by Sasha, Pete, Gustav and Peter who was back in male attire. Sasha asked, “What’s to discuss tonight, folks?”
Pete replied, “Not a lot I reckon. Security has bin our only real concern for a goodly while, but Harwell and his staff seem to have that well and truly sorted out. Sasha, you’ve bin buying up defence stuff on the international markets. I’ve seen the accounts and there seems to be about three million quids worth of unspecified equipment mixed up with the engineering tackle. I know how Murray and Chance operate, so my guess is it’s all stuff best not spoken about till it’s needed. I also noticed the mining equipment and the huge numbers of fast growing alien conifers that seem to have all bin planted on the fell side in font of the massif that forms Flat Top Fell. My guess is once those trees are tall and dense enough to hide the front of the massif someone will be mining out a large cavern in which to store stuff. That’s all I want to say, but if I can work it out there’ll be others too, Lad.”
Harriet coughed and moved the conversation on, “Monica and Angélique seem to be doing a fine job on the engineering stuff patents. Have they said owt to you concerning your work, Love?” She was looking at Peter as she asked.
“Not a lot, Mum. They are confident we can sort out our ownership of the ideas. Monica reckons six to twelve months before we talk to the military. She said in the meantime to leave things as they are and to keep our mouths shut. She said the best protection you could have for intellectual property rights was total silence.” Peter shrugged his shoulders and clearly he had no more to say.
Gladys concluded by saying, “Harriet and I have babies to check on, so that’s goodnight from us.”
35115 words including footnotes
1 The home counties are the counties of England that surround London. The counties are not precisely defined but Berkshire, Buckinghamshire, Essex, Hertfordshire, Kent and Surrey are usually included in definitions as they border London. The home counties have been pejoratively characterised as being inhabited on the whole by nice, comfortable, and conformist middle class people.
2 Biafra was a secessionist state from Nigeria that existed between 1967 and 1970. In the Nigerian civil war hunger was used as a weapon of war by Nigeria and most of the two million Biafrans who died did so from starvation, a hugely disproportionate number of who were children. Many folk old enough to remember the media coverage are still haunted by the images of emaciated, pot bellied children three-quarters of the way to meet their maker.
3 The beginning of the back end, early autumn [US fall]. Alan is referring to early September.
4 Spuddie bakers, potato bakers, ovens fabricated from forty five gallon oil drums designed to be heated in a bonfire to bake potatoes without burning them. They impart a characteristic bonfire flavour and odour to potatoes that is reminiscent to Bearthwaite folks of their childhood.
5 The clout in this context is the power, influence or authority.
6 Bullshine, originally a military term signifying a high polish on Parade Boots. Nowadays somewhat melded with the similar term bullshit.
7 See GOM 50.
8 Alnwick, named after the Northumbrian town, pronounced Ann ick, IPA anik.
9 Tasty, in this case used colloquially for a man able to fight.
10 Previous, previous convictions.
11 Candy is a street name used for various different drugs in different places. Splits is a coarse reference to a woman spreading her legs to facilitate sex.
12 HMP Styal, His Majesty’s Prison Styal is a women’s prison.
13 Bird, gaol time.
14 A pun, Rob Astor, rob a store, steal from a shop.
15 Ordbok, wordbook, a dictionary. Alan is using a modern High Fell word which is the same in modern Norwegian. He probably acquired the word from Norwegian sailors using a phrase book years before when they put into one of the many Cumbrian ports.
16 Yance ower, dialectal once over, often associated with children’s bed time stories as once upon a time.
17 Alan is thinking of the ‘Four legs good, two legs bad’ phrase in George Orwell’s 1945 novel Animal Farm.
18 Nearly sixty years ago, Alan had risked a hundred and eighty thousand pounds sterling on buying Richard, the original population Dairy Shorthorn bull calf that had ultimately become the foundation of the prestigious Peabody original population Dairy Shorthorn herd.
19 Ɖelmarra, pronounced, Thell mar ra, Th as in then, IPA ðɛlma˞ ra
20 Brock, used as a verb, as here, brock is dialectal form of broken or broke. Used as a noun a brock is a badger, usually a male. Often used as a name for a breeding porcine boar.
21 Head. Alan pronounces this heed, IPA hiːd.
22 Bags on legs, a pejorative reference meaning udders on legs. The implication being that such cows are no more than milk producing machines, the hidden meaning is that the milk is of poor quality.
23 Black and white beasts. A pejorative reference to cows of Friesian or Holstein ancestry that make up 85% of the UK herd that produce vast quantities of low quality milk.
24 AI, Artificial Insemination.
25 Ásfríðr, Oh s free thr, th as in the, IPA aʊsfri:ðr.
26 Whitehall, the seat of UK governance.
27 MP, Member of Parliament.
28 A hung parliament is a term used in the UK to describe a situation in which no single political party has an absolute majority in parliament.
29 Anglo Saxon, crude or profane. The expression used in this sense derives from after the Norman conquest of England in 1066 by William I. The language of the conquerors was Norman French, that of the conquered was Anglo Saxon which existed in many variants. Norman French was the language of the masters and Anglo Saxon rapidly became deemed to be inferior, then lower class and ultimately coarse and crude. The process took centuries, but many words that today are considered to be outrageously unacceptable in polite society, especially those having any connection to sex or genitals, were at one time perfectly acceptable words in normal every day Anglo Saxon usage. Anglo Saxon, crude or profane. The expression used in this sense derives from after the Norman conquest of England in 1066 by William I. The language of the conquerors was Norman French, that of the conquered was Anglo Saxon which existed in many variants. Norman French was the language of the masters and Anglo Saxon rapidly became deemed to be inferior, then lower class and ultimately coarse and crude. The process took centuries, but many words that today are considered to be outrageously unacceptable in polite society, especially those having any connection to sex or genitals, were at one time perfectly acceptable words in normal every day Anglo Saxon usage.
30 Private Members’ bills are public bills introduced by MPs and Lords who are not government ministers. As with other public bills their purpose is to change the law as it applies to the general population. Only a minority of Private Members’ bills become law but, by creating publicity around an issue, they may affect legislation indirectly.
31 Chessin, dialectal chasing.
32 Perry’s Palace, Workington was the largest settlement in the then new Allerdale borough, and was the seat of the borough council. Allerdale House in Workington was the meeting place and primary office space used by the council. The building is known locally as Perry’s Palace after former council chief executive Tony Perry, who was responsible for its construction.
33 The Goodies, South Africa is an episode of the British Comedy television series The Goodies. This episode is also known as Apartheight and as A South African Adventure. It was episode number 11 in series 5 and originally aired on the 21st of April 1975.
34 HM Equality Act 2010. The act protects people against discrimination, harassment or victimisation in employment, and as users of private and public services based on nine protected characteristics: age, disability, gender reassignment, marriage and civil partnership, pregnancy and maternity, race, religion or belief, sex, and sexual orientation.
35 Humbugs, young wild boar. They are horizontally striped like the humbug sweet or candy.
36 Triax, has three axles.
37 Oppen is the local pronunciation of open, hard short o. IPA, ɐpɛn.
38 Longships, a reference to the Viking ships that traditionally had a dragon head at the prow.
39 Pent, dialectal pronunciation of paint. IPA, pɛnt.
40 Broomstick issues, issues associated with mood changes due to menstrual cycles.
41 Twa, dialectal two.
42 Her indoors, a commonplace reference to a man’s wife.
43 Stan is somewhat misusing a biblical reference. My cup runneth over is a quotation from the Hebrew Bible Psalms 23:5 and means I have more than enough for my needs, though interpretations and usage vary. Stan is suggesting that he had way more nowt from the jar than he could ever need.
44 Lime Pickle, a sort of fermented pickle. The main ingredients are limes, chile and it is salty. A powerful taste.
45 Harissa paste. Harissa is a North African chilli paste or sauce that consists of peppers, garlic, spices like coriander seeds, paprika, cumin, caraway seeds and olive oil. It usually contains a lot of powerful chiles.
46 Goodness Gracious Me was a BBC sketch comedy show televised on BBC2 from 1998 to 2001. The cast were four British Indian actors. The show explored British Asian culture, and the conflict and integration between traditional Indian culture and modern British life. Some sketches reversed the roles to view the British from an Indian perspective, and others poked fun at Indian and Asian stereotypes. The sketch referred to was a perfect parody of the kind of stereotypically loutish behaviour seen from half cut diners on a Friday night in any town or city in the UK.
47 Search Youtube for ‘Asian comedy the bland sketch’ or see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-uEx_hEXAM.
48 A night out on the keg, a night of heavy drinking.
49 Pyrex® is a brand introduced by Corning Inc. in 1915 for a line of clear, low thermal expansion borosilicate glass used for laboratory glassware and kitchenware. It was later expanded in the 1930s to include kitchenware products made of soda lime glass and other materials.
50 Giant Hogweed, a plant that can reach sixteen feet [5m] high and ten [3m] across. Although an impressive sight when fully grown, giant hogweed is invasive and potentially harmful. Chemicals in the sap cause photo dermatitis or photosensitivity, where the skin becomes very sensitive to sunlight and may suffer excruciating blistering, pigmentation and permanent scarring. Giant hogweed is usually referred to by one name, Heracleum mantegazzianum. However, while this is one of the species, there are as many as four other giant hogweeds at large in Britain some of which are biennial and others perennial. However, all have high levels of furanocoumarins (the chemicals which cause burning by making the skin sensitive to sunlight) and so all pose a risk to public health. The Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981, states you must not plant or cause to grow Giant Hogweed in the wild. The penalties could be up to 2 years imprisonment and a £40,000 fine. It is a major problem in a few areas, but to date there is no indication anywhere that any has been prosecuted for assisting its spread or indeed that any has done so.
51 Clempt, dialectal exceedingly hungry.
52 Bottling, jarring or canning in the US. Filling and preserving using Kilner jars [US Mason jars] is often referred to as bottling in the UK.
53 See GOM 58.
54 Blåbär, known elsewhere as blaeberry or bilberry.
55 The Acetal copolymer that Tattler® lids are made from is a Polyoxymethylene Copolymer (POM). The rubber rings (gaskets) are made from a food grade nitrile rubber.
56 See GOM 38.
57 Mither, dialectal, bother or trouble.
58 Annealing glass, the process whereby a newly formed object is heated and allowed to cool slowly whereby it becomes less brittle. There is a lot more to it than that, but that is a first approximation to the process.
59 See GOM 37.
60 Road scutchings or planings are produced when the surface layer of a tarmac surface is removed by a cold milling machine known as a scutcher or a planer. Road scutchings, are an extremely cost effective recycled material as compared with virgin material from a quarry. The scutchings are used for hard standings, farm tracks, paths, roads, driveways and many other uses.
61 Bean counters and tax dodgers, a somewhat scurrilous reference to accountants.
62 The two counties being Cumberland and Westmorland with Furness.
63 An asphalt paver is a machine that lays down a road surface using either asphalt or blacktop, and even occasionally, usually by independent contractors, scutchings or planings. The Bearthwaite Highways Group frequently use recycled materials in their paver as a cheaper surface offered to any wishing a large enough job done to warrant using their paving machine.
64 Road scutching or planing is usually used as an alternative to the complete removal of the road surface. Instead of time consuming and costly excavation, the damaged road surface is removed using a scutching or planing machine, allowing the new surface to be directly overlaid onto the existing sub layers of the scutched or planed road.
65 A wacker plate, also commonly referred to as a plate compactor or vibrating plate, is a piece of construction equipment with a vibrating metal base plate and an engine or motor on top of it. It is used for compacting various materials on the ground to create a solid surface and a level surface.
66 Chitting is the process of encouraging seed potatoes break their dormancy and to generate sturdy sprouts ready for when it’s time to plant them in the ground. By exposing seed potatoes to plenty of light and warmth, they are spurred out of dormancy and into growth mode, the result being an earlier harvest and hopefully a somewhat more bountiful one too.
67 Anya is a second early taking 16 weeks from it breaking dormancy to harvest. A cross between Pink Fir Apple and Désirée, Anya is less knobbly than Pink Fir Apple. Anya is a type of finger potato with a long knobbly oval shape, a pinkish beige coloured skin, and white waxy flesh. Its flavour is slightly nutty. Anya is a good boiling potato but can be prepared using most cooking methods. They are especially good in salads.
68 First early or new potatoes are so called because they are the earliest to crop, usually in June in the Bearthwaite area. They take 10-13 weeks to mature. Second early potatoes take 13-16 weeks to mature. Maincrops take 16-22 weeks to mature. Late maincrop potatoes can take up to 26 weeks to mature.
69 Volunteer, in this context a plant that was not deliberately planted. Often in the case of potatoes a plant growing from a tuber that was missed at the harvest the year before.
70 Chipper, a cultivar especially good for chips. [US fries].
71 Solanum is a large and diverse genus of flowering plants, which includes three food crops of high economic importance: the potato, the tomato and the aubergine, eggplant, brinjal.
72 Stitches, allotment growers refer to a row of plants, especially potatoes, as a stitch.
73 The Irish Republic, the Isle of Man and the Channel Islands are not part of the United Kingdom.
74 Chineseium is an imaginary rare Earth element. The joke hinges on the fact that China is the factory of the world and seems to make everything available these days, so any delivery delays can be put down to a shortage of Chineseium.
75 Mither, bother, annoyance or trouble.
76 See GOM 49.
77 Donkey engine, a small auxiliary engine.
78 William Heath Robinson, his name was included in the dictionary from 1912 as a synonym for absurd, ingenious and over complicated makeshift devices, like the ones he spent his life designing. He was a world renowned artist, illustrator, humourist and social commentator. Comparable with US Rube Goldberg.
79 Force, this is an ancient use of the word. Used as a noun in this sense it means a powerful waterfall. There are any number of such permanent forces in northern England that are popular tourist destinations. Examples would be Aira Force and Force Jumb.
80 A kissing gate is a gate that allows people, but not livestock, to pass through.
81 Milt, is the seminal fluid of fish, molluscs, and certain other water dwelling animals which
reproduce by spraying this fluid, which contains the sperm onto roe, the eggs. It can also refer to the sperm sacs or testes that contain the semen.
82 Alevin, young fish with yolk sac still present, especially of salmon.
83 The Norwegian government have advised pregnant women not to eat farmed salmon at all and the rest of the population to eat it no more than a limited number of times a year. In 2019, the Swedish magazine Filter announced its investigative report on Norwegian farmed salmon like this: “Ninety-seven per cent of the salmon we eat in Sweden is farmed and from Norway. Farmed salmon are fed food that contains heavy metals and toxins. Tens of thousands of tonnes of pesticides are used to combat diseases and pests. In addition, the fish farms themselves kill shellfish and cause eutrophication.” There is also a horrifying Youtube investigative video on the subject.
84 See GOM 55
Comments
I was puzzled by the use of LGBTP so I looked it up on Google.
According to Google and Reuters fact checking, the P stands for pedophile. Apparently started by hard core right wing politician who thought he could turn the gullible away from LGTB. The derogatory term has been refuted by LGBT groups.
Is there something I'm missing?
ps I do love your writing!
Boys will be girls... if they're lucky!
Jennifer Sue
LGBTP
I came across the use of LGBTP a year or so ago where it was explained to be the same as LGBT+. The P was used rather than + because it sorted as part of the standard alphabet though the writer did not say why that was advantageous. I have never come across the meaning you referred to and in no way was it my intention to imply such. I'll stop using LGBTP and revert to LGBT+. I'll gradually edit my usage of LGBTP to LGBT+. Thank you for making me aware of the matter.
Regards,
Eolwaen
Eolwaen