A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 54 Tekin Receipt of a New Un
It was early autumn and though there had been a couple of frosts, one of them according to the allotmenteers had been a killing frost in proof of which Alf had said it had seen his nasturtiums(1) off, Bearthwaite was enjoying a period of unseasonably warm, dry weather. It was a textbook Indian summer. Much to relief of many harassed parents, especially mothers, the children were back at school after their six week summer holiday. The next real excitement as far as the children were concerned was the equinox bonfire party on the village green which they were already collecting windfall branches for to assist the pallets donated by the heavy haulage drivers to burn giving off the appropriate smell, the smell of natural branches that required bark and leaves for its full effect. All knew that numerous folk all over the village were preparing the food for the party. Women had all the required ingredients ready for their last minute baking sessions. Vincent the village slaughterman and butcher had had the long slaughtered required carcasses hanging in cold store on their stainless steel spit stakes for a couple of weeks.
The workshop folks had checked that the spits, which had small electric motors powered by refurbished twelve volt vehicle batteries charged by small wind mills on the top of the engineering workshop roofs, themselves were in full working order. Jeremy who was the master cook who supervised the festivities had all in order and his assistants had ensured that Christine’s cooks who cooked on an industrial scale in the Old Bobbin Mill had all that they required. Christine’s cooks had in turn ensured that the large bottles of barbecue sauce required for the heating vats, it had never seemed right to refer to anything that large as pans, had been prepared to Jeremy’s delicious recipe. The tractor trailers loaded with sacks of individually selected potatoes of the large Picasso variety required for baking at the bonfire site were ready to be towed out of their barns for the potatoes to be loaded into the spuddie bakers(2) as soon as the bonfire had been lit. The potatoes had been graded by size and hand selected as they were harvested which took a little longer but saved a lot of work later. Huge numbers of Bearthwaite folk always turned out for the potato harvest, for like many other fruit and vegetable harvests it had always been a community matter and the extra work involved in grading the tubers was not seen as a problem for the craic(3) was as always excellent. The Peabody men had hundredweights [a hundredweight, cwt, is 112 pounds, 51Kg] of butter ready in stainless steel milk churns waiting to be lavished on the split baked potatoes. Thousands of cloths were available to wipe buttery and barbecue sauce covered hands and faces.
There was water available for parents who would be despairing of ever getting their children clean and free of stickiness again. Children who it must be said, in the main if past experience were to be relied upon, were never in the least bothered by the state of their hands and faces. Naturally enough vast quantities of Bearthwaite Brown Bevy would be available from the brewery and hundreds of two gallon [9l, 2½ US gal] bottles of Cyanobacta the locally produced distillate would be available, along with whatever else any could possibly require, including as much locally brewed botanical pop of many flavours as the children could consume. The children were buzzing with excitement much like a hive of bees just prior to the eruption of a swarm. Much to the delight of the entire population the weather forecast predicted the current mild and balmy weather would continue well beyond the party. Perhaps even better was that Auld Alan Peabody, who was ninety-five turned if not more, had said the weather was not going to break till round the middle to the end of October. Auld Alan was the local weather oracle who had been predicting the local weather more accurately for six decades than the meteorological office.
Joel Williams, a recent addition to Bearthwaite, was a mechanic and a weather fanatic who taught meteorology part time at the BEE, the Bearthwaite Educational Establishment. Joel had spent countless hours talking about and recording Alan’s vast fund of local weather lore. “Alan,” he’d explained, “has the ability to take what he is aware of concerning the weather over the entire northern hemisphere, especially over Britain and western Europe and integrate his knowledge of Bearthwaite’s past weather patterns and the effect they had on the valley and its wildlife into a composite picture of the weather that will affect the valley. The Bearthwaite valley only because he’s never been interested in what happens elsewhere. What makes him so remarkable is his amazing powers of observation of the minutiae of what surrounds him and he has remembered them all right from being a child. He is the first to admit he’s probably little better than any other at predicting weather even a few fells away from Bearthwaite. But he knows what’s going to happen here, and when that is extreme obviously that same weather will impact elsewhere. The more extreme the farther away it will impact. He’s predicting the worst winter in two centuries coming up. So I’ve ordered some extra heavy, old fashioned, yoked, Scandinavian styled, woollen pullovers from Louise and Ellen. I suggest you do likewise.”
Murray had called a Village meeting concerning establishing guidelines on who, and why, or why not, Bearthwaite would consider accepting as potential Bearthwaite folk in the village hall. However that was required for other purposes, so the meeting was held in the church, and it was packed. One of the main topics on the agenda concerned considering Islamic refugees and asylum seekers as potential Bearthwaite folk. There were a number of reasons to do so, not least of which was because the government was offering large sums of money to communities who would take them in voluntarily, so as to avoid the backlash that would result from housing them in local authority social housing, [UK council housing, US projects] for which there was a long waiting list of local folk everywhere in the country. The money wasn’t the major incentive, acquiring Bearthwaite folk was, but if money could be taken off government, whether central or local made no difference, all of Bearthwaite’s folk were up for that. There was, however, no amount of money that would interest the Bearthwaite community into accepting folk who would not become Bearthwaite folk.
The conversation had gone around in circles for over forty minutes till Alf climbed up the stairs to the pulpit from which in times past vitriolic sermons had been thundered, the main content of which had been, ‘Just do what you’re telt without complaint.’ No more diplomatic than usual, Alf had said, “We’re getting bloody nowhere with this. It’s not even a debate because there are no opposing points of view. All we seem to be doing is reiterating media reports which for all we know could be bullshit like everything else the media and the government put out. Nobody so far has actually suggested we take anybody and none has suggested that we don’t, so I’ll threw something on the table because at least we can then argue about it and any details we’re interested in or concerned about too. I suggest we accept single Muslim women and their kids who are prepared to renounce Islam. In that group I’d be happy to include women who want to get the hell away from their husbands or families for reasons we don’t need to discuss because to us they don’t matter.
“So I suggest at least one of our womenfolk gets in contact with someone who has access to the female refugees and the women and children’s refuges from domestic violence. I reckon the best bet would be to form a working group of our womenfolk, at least four but far better a dozen of them, to deal with the matter and with the outsiders in positions of authority too. The moment things start moving we need Murray’s and Adalheidis’ staff involved. Murray’s folk to deal with the money and Adalheidis’ to make sure we don’t get stitched up by the powers that be. I’ll add that I am glad that none has mentioned the money yet which is as it should be. If we can find any folk who fit here I’ll be as glad to accept them and take the money off the thieves in Whitehall(4) and the local bandits in Barrow, Kendal and Penrith(5) too as the next person, but if they don’t fit here the government can keep the bloody money and the refugees and the victims of violence even though they be women and their kids. Having been abused does not give any the right to abuse any of our folk.
“If you think that that sounds brutal that’s because it is. Yet think on, how bad could the domestic violence be if a woman considers turning her back on the safety that Bearthwaite offers for herself and her kids is preferable to turning her back on a religion that condones the violence she had to flee from. I’m not suggesting for a second that we even try to persuade any of them, but they do have to make a decision. Seems to me they have three choices. The first is to live in safety here as a respected and well tret member of Bearthwaite society. A society that will value them for their contributions even if that contribution for a while be rearing a pack of toddlers to become Bearthwaite folk. The second is to live in relative safety as a refugee of some sort living in conditions that at best can’t be good, and they’ll probably be living nervously with the threat of possible deportation hanging over their heads all the time. The third is to live as a down trodden, second class member of a community where domestic violence is a constant threat. A place where in practice, whatever their clerics say about their holy book, the religion means blokes can get away with knocking them and their kids about as and whenever they choose. I reckon the decision is a no brainer, but I sure as hell ain’t Islamic, I certainly ain’t a woman, and I ain’t been a child for a hell of a long time. Having said all that it is their decision to make.
“I don’t give a damn what any says about respecting their religion or their culture because I don’t have any respect for either. If they’re that good what the hell are they doing over here with their hands out asking for charity. Multiculturalism is a failed crock of shit out there that provided the perfect blend of nutrients for the roots of a lot of the issues that grew to be the major social problems they’re having to deal with these days. Like a lot of what happens out there it’s not going to happen here. Outsiders that come here to live either integrate by accepting and taking on board our views about religion and our culture or they piss off back to out there where they can do whatever the hell they like. In particular, women coming here dump all those tents and balaclavas they wear and dress like our women. If they want to be Bearthwaite women with all of the benefits that provides then they have to actually be Bearthwaite women, not some frigging alien spook that looks like a bloody pillar box.(6) I also suggest we accept no males over the age of fourteen because they’re too dangerous, and we don’t need the hassle and grief, and the probable violence too, that having to deal with them would involve. All young males have to embrace our dress codes too, so that means no robes or turbines(7) on their head. We don’t want any who wishes to be different from Bearthwaite folk. As for their dietary laws, that Halal shite, if your kids are starving and a good Samaritan offers you bacon sandwiches any who doesn’t gratefully say thank you and tells their kids to do the same is an arsehole. Bearthwaite folk eat pork and all our slaughter is humane. They’ll be wishful to come here and they will know the terms.
“We have always taken more lads than lasses off the streets because there are more lads than lasses living on the streets, though NCSG say that they have always dealt with slightly more lasses than lads. I’m guessing that’s probably because there are more trans lasses around than trans lads and they deal with a lot of trans kids because no one else can provide them with what they need. At least if we accept what I’ve suggested we’ll be evening up the sex balance in the below twenty age group which will mean less losses of kids when they are seeking spouses and want to settle down. My view on that is entirely in agreement with Elle when she said if we keep the lasses then we keep the lads. I find it interesting that though our kids have always married and settled down younger than elsewhere, recently they seem to be sorting matters like that out younger than ever before. As a rule of thumb two or three decades ago most were twelve or thirteen at the youngest before getting seriously interested in each other. Now even the primary school kids are pairing up, and you can’t call it puppy love because they have been going the distance with each other for a good few years now.
“Going back to any potential ex Muslim incomers. I’d expect some failures, most likely in the twelve and thirteen year old lads. If Islam, or if it comes to it owt else, has imbued them with the ‘women are an inferior creation and subservient to men crap’ then they’ll not treat our lasses properly either. We’ll have to discuss how we’ll deal with that, and that will have to be made very clear to their mothers before we accept them. That way at least we’ll avoid a deal of problems before they occur. If we don’t our teenage lads will get involved in dishing out some serious beatings and death threats on behalf of their sisters, and we don’t need them involved in that. Those mothers need telt before we accept them for say a three months trial that they’ll have to agree with the Bearthwaite treatment of their out of order sons. That they’ll have to turn their backs on them if those lads behave inappropriately, for we shall make them leave. It’ll have to be either that or they leave with all their children as want to go. Any as want to stay we’ll provide support and manage to keep somehow. We’ll have to because they’ll be Bearthwaite kids and we don’t turn our backs on Bearthwaite folk whatever their age. The mothers can go back to the Islamic shit that they faced before or they can go somewhere else. I really don’t give a damn where they go because they’ll have turned their backs on what they were offered here. To live here they have to accept that this is Bearthwaite and we make the rules here, or we shall make them leave.
“They’ll know no religion is acceptable here because they’ll have had to agree to that as the price of us accepting them and providing them and their children with sanctuary. We all know that that sanctuary has a price, a price that they and all their children will have to pay if they wish to remain here. That is in no way discriminatory because it’s the same price that every other resident here male and female, adult and child pays. They are either one of us or they are not, for we will no longer allow outsiders to live amongst us. All that will have to be made crystal clear before we accept them on trial. If they live here they have to live here as one of us else they live somewhere else. Once here they become truly one of us or we’ll make them leave. They have to realise that our ultimate sanction isn’t beating the shit out of them or chopping a hand off or some other sharia obscenity it’s making someone leave because we can’t be arsed to deal with their unacceptable antics. Actually I don’t give a toss whether they realise that or not because if they’ve been telt it and agreed to it from the word go my conscience will be clear when I chuck some little shite out on his arse end onto Bearthwaite Lonning Ends when the road is flooded for abusing our good will, or worse a Bearthwaite lass, which at that point may well be one of his sisters. I know I repeated mysel a few times there, but I reckon what I was saying warranted it and I ain’t sorry for having done it.”
There was a long silence after Alf had finished, but eventually Pete said, “For a bloke who reckons he’s as thick as a brick(8) Alf’s well worth listening to ain’t he? My view is Alf has said all that counts regards the Muslim women and their kids and I’m happy to leave all the details to Murray, Chance, Adalheidis, Jimmy and their staff of experts to iron out. If need be Harwell and his staff can enforce whatever needs enforcing. I reckon that way we’ll save us all a deal of time, and we can move on to discussing Harwell’s ideas concerning recruiting ex members of certain specialised military units.”
A single voice echoed around the church using the centuries old expression that indicated a formal demand asserting a right for input into the debate, “I wish to be heard.” Karen McAlpine, the Bearthwaite senior nurse stood up to be seen and heard and said, “I agree with nigh on all Alf said, but I should like an easing of his suggestion of no males over fourteen. We’ve never been a folk to apply rules arbitrarily and I wouldn’t like to think we are about to become one. That belittles us, for it’s what they do outside. What I would like to suggest is that any males over the age of fourteen as express an interest in us are interviewed gey closely as to whether we consider them suitable. Most will without doubt turn us down as soon as they realise they have to give up Islam. The few remaining I suggest we allow to plead their case for us to judge. Doubtless some of them we shall turn down, but there may be some we accept. As with the twelve and thirteen year old mistakes that Alf said he’d be happy to get rid of as and when we realised they were not Bearthwaite folk we can do the same with any mistakes we make that are older than fourteen. In short, I suggest all males under fourteen are given the chance and all males over fourteen are given the opportunity to plead their case.”
There was a murmur that lasted five minute or so before Chance raised his voice to ask, “I personally agree with Karen’s point of view, not least because of what she said about us as a folk. Are we willing to accept Karen’s amendment to what Alf said and then like Pete willing to leave the details to the experts and move on?”
Alf stood and said, “I agree with Karen. I should have thought of that. I suggest we do what Pete suggested.”
Chance seeing Alf had finished and none else wished to speak asked, “May I now ask Harwell to present his ideas?” The shouts of ‘Aye’ echoed round the church.
Harwell wasted no time on an introduction. “I don’t have enough as yet to present ideas concerning recruitment from the military, so I’ll leave that for the moment. However, as to recruitment from the currently Islamic folk in need of homes. We need our very best readers of folk interviewing every single applicant even toddlers ultimately. Obviously as has already been said our womenfolk need to be involved, but once they arrive our children and men should be too, and I shouldn’t have to explain why. I suggest we allow a week for initial assessment and that means all children of school age have to go to school, so that in the evenings our children can be debriefed as to their thoughts concerning the applicants. Our children are neither stupid nor imperceptive, so of course they will understand what is happening. That means we should be completely open with them concerning their rôle in events. I can see any number of them here, so they will already know what this is all about without us having to explain. I see that as a good thing because this is a community matter and they are a major part of our community. Come a day they will be our community. The toddlers we’ll obtain information about from the early years and nursery school staff and some from our children attending too. All adults and child applicants of secondary school age [eleven or above] should be interviewed by women, men and some of our older children, in all combinations. I suggest a half hour interview every day once they arrive. Even if as I suggest none of the incomers is ever interviewed by the same person twice that’s not an onerous task for our professionals, folks like the medical staff, because there are hundreds if not thousands of us capable of doing it. Any incomer that gives anyone to have concerns gets passed over to the professionals.
“We do not want to make any more mistakes than the absolute minimum. We especially want information on their plans and intentions. The women’s plans concerning finding a husband and work. The children’s plans concerning education and a career. We don’t need any bitter divorcees, spinsters or widows here, and the best cure for any of them is a man in their bed, so we need to be blunt about that. Nor do we need resentful children who believe we have taken away from their quality of life, so we need to ask them what do they want and explain what opportunities we can provide. Any, adult or child, we develop any doubts about I want interviewed by Grayson the psychologist along with any he thinks could provide further insight. Any who still remain bitter or resentful should be returned to whence they came. Concerning those who seem acceptable, I’m particularly interested in their views concerning Islam and how any who don’t speak English react to having to learn it, and that means attending evening classes six evenings a week till they are fluent enough to cope without the need for an interpreter. As far as I’m aware we have no speakers of Asian languages other than Sun who speaks Cantonese, but we do have several folk qualified to teach English as a foreign language, that’s called EFL in most spots. They alongside bilingual incomers will be able to teach those evening classes, possibly with the aid of some of the teaching programmes available on the internet and some dictionaries and phrase books. If I am wrong and we do have any speakers of Asian languages amongst us would you please make yourselves known to the EFL teachers. If need be I’ll ask Murray to advertise for language staff with a view to finding folk suitable to become Bearthwaite folk.
“I’ve enough rangers to spare to police Bearthwaite for a week, ten days at most. I’ll be placing possibly a dozen of my staff on duty in the school every day during that week and another dozen or so in whatever places seem appropriate to us nearer the time. We’ll still be doing all our routine patrolling of the fences, but if this means doing less repair work in order to manage the police work that will be okay for a week or so. I want it made crystal clear that any information at all is relayed to my staff who will compile it all to be passed on to the Beebell directorate. Everyone needs to be aware of that so pass it around. Your safety and that of our society may depend on it. Anything that needs enforced needs to be put before at least half a dozen, preferably a dozen, members of the Beebell directorate meeting in open session in the church or the community hall so that any who wish to attend to listen or be heard to express a view may do so. And I want that meeting to take place that evening at the absolute latest. If they can’t come to a conclusion we’ll call an emergency village meeting the following morning to put it to all who attend. After that the matter of policing and enforcing any decisions arrived at can be left to my staff, and Alf of course if there is a need for him to do any serious arse bouncing on Bearthwaite Lonning Ends.” There was no laughter at Harwell’s last remark for it was appreciated that he hadn’t said it to be amusing.
It was a few weeks after that meeting had taken place in the church that Bearthwaite had taken in some forty-seven ex Islamic women and their two hundred and fifteen children, two of who were boys over fourteen, one was sixteen the other fifteen, on a three months trial. Thirteen of the women and their thirty-three children had come from women’s refuges, most of the thirteen women and many of their children were the victims of domestic violence, the rest had come from government refugee and asylum seekers’ accommodation. It had been a hugely successful endeavour. The money had been a problem to start with because the government had said the normal procedure was the money would be paid six months after the refugees had been accepted. Murray had replied with a terse email that said. ‘Keep your money and keep your refugees.’ A flurry of reply emails had resulted, none of which he’d bothered to answer. Eventually a supercilious suit(9) had visited Bearthwaite and patronisingly explained why his demand was not possible to be met.
Murray had replied, “We don’t give a toss about your procedures. We do not sell owt to any without seeing the colour of his money up front. You are the one with the problem not us. You wish to buy a home for two hundred and sixteen folks to make your masters look good in the media. We don’t give a damn about selling you owt, and certainly don’t need your money. We made no demands, what we did was set out the terms that we would trade with you on. You know what we’re selling, homes for thirty-four women and their one hundred and eighty-two kids. You know what the price and the terms are. I suggest you bugger off back to under whatever stone it was that you crawled out from under before I have some one throw you out. We don’t trust you or the government, and in particular I don’t trust you or the government either. I’m the one making the decisions here, and I’m not negotiating with you or any other government flunky because there’s nowt to negotiate. Just go. If you want to do the deal pay the money first, if not don’t. Once our bank confirms the money is in the Beebell account then we’ll take your refugees.” The money was paid three days later and the refugees arrived on double decker buses the following day.
Fortunately there were none who didn’t speak English, other than babies who didn’t speak much of anything. The women and older girls had heeded the dress code instructions and were all dressed European style, many in clothes that the Bearthwaite women involved in the arrangements had provided. None of the boys had anything on their heads other than three wearing baseball caps which they soon ceased to wear once they realised that Bearthwaite boys regarded such as lower class clothing. That jeans and trainers, or sneakers as many of them called them, were considered in the same way was a surprise to the incomer boys and girls, almost as big a surprise as the realisation that all Bearthwaite folk wore bespoke locally made footwear of the highest quality. It wasn’t long before the incomers realised that most of the expensive seeming clothing that most Bearthwaite folk wore was locally produced and outside the valley it commanded ridiculously high prices. The biggest surprise of all was that a number of Bearthwaite women and girls wore saris, all of which were silk of the highest quality bought in from abroad via the internet, and they were regarded by all as garments to be worn on special occasions. A similar surprise was when the incomer boys realised that for some Bearthwaite men and boys kilts were regarded in the same way, expensive items of clothing worn on special occasions.
The Beebell directorate mindful of Harwell’s words decided that as soon as things and folk settled down that it would be a good idea to send as many of the women who were at the least bilingual on courses to learn how to teach EFL(10) as a hedge against possible future requirements. The women were made aware it would be considered as paid work and they would not have to travel as an appropriate teacher would be found to teach them at Bearthwaite. Gustav as usual saw it as more than a single opportunity, and he asked Murray to source not several EFL teachers but a teacher willing and suitable to be a permanent resident who could teach others to be EFL teachers. The forty seven women amongst them spoke over a dozen and a half languages, most were languages spoken by women already in the UK, many born in the UK. Most of the multi lingual women came from women and children’s refuges rather than from refugee camps where women tended to be bilingual. All the major languages of the Indian sub continent were represented. Arathane added women’s refuges to his list of places to seek for new Bearthwaite folk. Dave, typically tongue in cheek, was the one who remarked, “In future any learning EFL will have to learn Cumbrian too.”
It was Dave’s somewhat flippant remark that gave Annalísa to suggest at a meeting in the Community Hall that High Fell should be offered at least as an option at the school since comics were now available printed in it and sǫgur were available in High Fell as well as English from the Bearthwaite library as well as the Bearthwaite website too. “Surely,” she reasoned, “we can do better than that. This is our culture, our heritage, our inheritance and our legacy we’re talking about, and yance ower(11) that was the language we all spoke here, not just the shepherds and the wallers. Let us ensure that it remains our children’s and our descendent’s too. We have enough retired shepherds and wallers for whom it is really a first language who would enjoy saying sǫgur to the little ones and there are enough of us who can teach the runes to the older children, it’s only like them learning Russian and Cyrillic scrip. We’re fighting for our survival on many fronts these days and have recently started taking the fight to the outsiders who have long been our oppressors. Now they’re too bothered about what we’re going to do next to give us overmuch grief. Ásfríðr would agree I’m sure were she here instead of canvassing voters for the upcoming election over in Furness. It’s our fight, so let’s nail our colours to the mast and let them know just who and what they’re fighting.
“Let’s let other Cumbrians know that we’re fighting back against the oppressive system that was created by southerners and is maintained by them, and if we can do it so can they. Just north of the M25, the London motorway ring road, on the M1 there is the first of many signs that points vertically upwards that reads ‘The North’. That completely encapsulates their mentality. The mentality wherein all that lies to the north of their lawless mega city, where neighbour is just a word with neither meaning nor reality, is just one homogeneous mass of heathen barbarians. it’s the modern day equivalent of Here be Dragons on auld maps which then as now indicates ignorance about the area and an unwillingness to learn about it. That first sign is three hundred and twenty miles south of us and there are probably fifty million folk, maybe more, crammed into various cities and towns between us and that sign. Fifty million folk with dozens of different cultures and even more subcultures, yet to the folk who live to the south of that first sign we are all the same: northerners. Let us, as a particular tribe of those heathen barbarians, take a stand and break out the woad.”(12)
“Old cultures and ways are on the back foot everywhere in the world and being forced to give way to the relentless profiteering of corporate greed due to folk who usually live half a planet away, yet lawlessness and chaos are massively on the increase where new cultures and ways are taking over. Some folk are fighting back, indeed we are, but we can do much better. Cumbric, Norn, Manx, Auregnais and many other languages of these Isles have already gone, Guernésiais, Jèrriais and Sercquiais are probably breathing their last. Kernowek, Welsh, Gaelic and Erse are holding their own. We can do better, not least because our children are interested. We also have another advantage, the children that no other cared for and at best were abandoned and at worst were abused mentally, emotionally and physically. The children that we took in as our own into our families. Because of our mutual need those new family ties are strong and the children gained a new found self esteem and an identity as Bearthwaite folk. Thus they are greatly interested in what was our past and is now theirs too, and that especially includes owt that identifies us as Bearthwaite folk, and that most notably is High Fell. That comics are printed in High Fell provides it with much traction in their minds.
“High Fell is undergoing a renaissance with the apprentices. All I’m suggesting is that we make that renaissance more widespread and start it earlier with toddlers rather than waiting till they are almost adult. High Fell is ours and we belong to High Fell. It is dying everywhere else in what has become north western England, yet not here. Indeed other High Fell speakers are coming here, for here are folk like themselves, and our vibrant culture is a way of life they understand. Yes many are elderly and no longer able to work and they have left behind them a lost culture that is now no more than a a ghost of a fire in a cold grate, for they were the last glowing embers of that culture whence they came. They have come here to spend their remaining days in the warmth of the culture they believed for so long had been lost everywhere, not just at where they first saw the light of day. They have come to somewhere like where they were children and grew up decades ago. Some would say they have come here to die and we are fools to welcome them, for they will become nowt but a burden upon us. That is not so, for their very presence, even auld as they are, adds to our culture. Every interaction they and their dogs, many as auld and tired as they themselves, have with our children strengthens our culture. Every saga they say to our children reinforces our culture. Every tale they tell our children of their younger days validates our culture. They are welcome and valuable Bearthwaite folk, and Bearthwaite folk do not turn their backs on their own. I propose that we give High Fell the help it needs, for when we do in turn it will provide us with the help we shall need in years to come.
“I am the channel through which much of the source of the sǫgur, the shepherds and the high wallers, have found expression. I have been the only channel for a gey long time and the only written channel for possibly a millennium. I came here a lonely and despised, fifty fifty Icelandic Norwegian, but now I am a respected, hundred percent Bearthwaite woman, a modern day Viking, as are we all, whether born here or no. If anything we have a reputation as fighters that goes back to the dawn of recorded European history. It is my contention that nothing has changed and we still have a culture to fight for. All born here have a familiarity with High Fell, most of our newer folk not born here wish to extend their familiarity with it, for the kind of folk that would wish to live here as Bearthwaite folk are the kind of folk who would naturally wish to. Many of you will find it hard to understand just how much Bearthwaite has done for me, but as I said I am a woman of Bearthwaite and we always pay our debts. Some would say my work with the sǫgur has done that. I don’t agree. When I have done all I can to have High Fell as the acknowledged first language of Bearthwaite folk and it is what our children are taught in then, and only then, shall I believe I have paid my debts in full. Thank you for your patience and for hearing me. I have taken up ower much of your time for one who is not a recognised law speaker.”
Annalísa’s use of the old term, law speaker, which they were all familiar with though it was generally only used by the native speakers of High Fell impressed them, for other than the shepherds and the wallers the only person any could remember using the term was Auld Alan Peabody who was rising a hundred and was known to be fluent in High Fell. It was a useful concept understood to mean one who stated the law as already agreed upon in order to assist when decisions had to be taken. It also implied one who after hearing public opinion would state the consensus that would become the agreed upon law. Many at the meeting decided to use it rather than the term chairman or chairwoman because it was more in keeping with Bearthwaite life and their customs. There was an unspoken agreement passing around the hall by some kind of psychic osmosis that Annalísa was now one of the senior Beebell directorate members, a law speaker. That was how things of that nature were decided at Bearthwaite, one did not stand for election, one’s behaviour and speech proved one worthy of election and so one was.
“Bugger me, Sasha! She’s damned good ain’t she? She had every one of the folk here in the palm of her hand. Pity she’s not interested in politics because politically that’s a damned cute move. One that Ásfríðr will be able to make a lot of use of, over and over again. Adalheidis really pulled a fast one on SPM when she recruited the lass mekin sure of denying her services to them ever again, and as she said she’s a hundred percent Bearthwaite now. You’d never know from her speech she wasn’t one of ours for generations ower. She’s not lang arrived, yet you’ve bin here decades and still sound like a Russian.”
“Aye right enough, Buthar, but the best part of it is she’s right. With no chicanery, no smoke and mirrors, just honest to god survival tactics for her folk. It puts a whole new spin on identity politics doesn’t it? I take it you noticed too? She may not have been a law speaker when she entered the building, but for sure she’ll leave it as one. I’ll see about having some High Fell comics bought for the reception class to follow as a High Fell speaker reads to them. I’d put money Frank would be up for that, and the kids who print the comics could do with the cash boost. I reckon mekin it an official part of the education system would be sensible.” Sasha laught and said, “Bearthwaite Educational Press will probably be the only such in the world that only prints comics. Last lesson on a Friday would work a treat, and it would provide a welcome end to the week for the kids and the staff.” Buthar nodded as they awaited the next speaker who was Alf talking about converting more space in farm outbuildings to insulated chambers that could be used as chiller units or freezer units for sudden influxes of food and still remain useful when not required for food requiring cooling.
Elle had decided to talk to Kamari who was sixteen and Taial who was fifteen in order to find out what made them different from other Islamic males of their age who’d either not been interested in Bearthwaite or whom Bearthwaite had not been interested in, and what if anything that meant for Bearthwaite. Kamari had been diffident as he’d explained, “My name is one that is used by girls as well as boys. For girls it is associated with grace, beauty, and independence. It is often given to boys as a symbol of hope and optimism. I’ve always hated it because I think it is what made me the way I am. My father insisted I was named Kamari because it has been a name used by men in his family for centuries. It was his father’s name. Because I didn’t live up to his and his family’s expectations he beat me hard and often. I’m not big or strong and I have no interest in sport, so he hit me. That I did well at school and managed to get twelve grade nines(13) in my GCSE’s(14) meant nothing to him. I ran away from home because I was getting hit at least once every day and when I cried he hit me more. I met some boys who came from the refugee centre and I ran away from home to go with them. One of their mums, Aliesha, took me in and I was happy living with her even if the conditions were pretty bad there. The people at the refugee centre just assumed I was her son and she told me to let them believe that. Aliesha has a son and two daughters all younger than me. When the woman from here came to talk to us and said if we were over fourteen we would have to be interviewed I went for an interview. I don’t know what it was that I said that made the difference but after two or three minutes the man said. ‘Enough. You are more than acceptable.’ Please, I’ll do anything to stay here as long as I don’t get hit.”
“What would you like to do? You said you are clever. You may continue your studies here if you wish. I presume you are ready for A’ Levels. What would you like to study?”
Kamari’s eyes glistened with unshed tears of joy as he replied, “I like things to do with nature. If I could study anything I’d choose, Botany, Zoology, Geology and Mathematics. I would wish to take all four for both years not to do a half course in one of them. I know it’s an unusual combination because when I looked on the internet there were no colleges that offered all four. Even though I knew my father would not have allowed me to stay on at school I looked up the courses anyway. I just had to. He wanted me to work for his brother in his warehouse.”
“You certainly seem to have thought about it and done some research. It’s an entirely possible combination at our school which is a private school, so what it does is not on the internet. Tell me, Kamari, which is a rather nice name, so I wouldn’t despise it were I you, why botany and zoology rather than biology? and why geology and the mathematics?”
“I know most universities only allow you to count one out of A’ level biology, botany and zoology, but there is far more to learn doing botany and zoology than there is in doing biology which barely touches on some things like parasitology and fungi. I like geology because of the time scales involved and the fossils which is like biology in a way. It’s a look into the biology of millions of years ago as life was evolving. Maths is necessary for all science, technology, engineering and mathematical disciplines and anyway I like it.”
‘A very clever lad indeed,’ Elle thought before asking, “Have you thought about a career, or a degree?”
“Not really. I’m not a natural communicator and I don’t communicate well enough to do medicine or dentistry, not even if I wished to. I suppose if I could get the work experience I could be a vet. I know I’m clever enough, and I’d enjoy that, but it’s never going to happen, so I’ll have to think of something else.”
“I can arrange for veterinary work experience here, but I’d need to know that if I do you are really going to go for it because I don’t wish to waste anyone’s time, including yours. We already have one young woman called Olivia who did her A’ Levels here and studies veterinary science at Glasgow. Her work experience was with Hamilton the Bearthwaite vet. Do you wish me to arrange it? It would be gey hard work. We would expect you to help the shepherds at lambing time and to learn to shoot and to use a knife to put animals down with if necessary. Too, you’d have to work with Hamilton for almost every hour you could stay awake and then some more. That’s not a punishment in any way. It’s because being a vet is like that. Hamilton is closely involved with our folk involved with fish, bees, coneys and wildlife both flora and fauna. You would also be expected to learn anatomy from our slaughterman who is the village butcher. His name is Vincent, but most call him Vince the mince. He too works closely with Hamilton. Too I imagine John our conservation officer would wish you to spend some time with him. You’d also spend time with Tommy who has written all the wildlife guides used by our visitors which form an extensive, though still developing, guide all of the wildlife to be found in the valley and on the nearby Calva Marsh. It would be an extremely intensive course that I suppose you could call a foundation course in veterinary science. It would only be available here and at least you would be fortunate in that we have done this before, even if it was only once. You could borrow all of Livvy’s equipment and books that she has left here, and we’d provide whatever else you needed. Well?”
Kamari who could barely believe what he was hearing eventually replied, “I don’t know how to thank you. That would be more than I could ever dream about. What are coneys?”
“Coneys are adult rabbits. We have a coney farm here. As to thanks, just say yes and then tell me what you meant when you said you thought your name made you the way you are. I need the truth. That is the least you can give me in return for my offer isn’t it?”
Kamari was breaking down in front of Elle’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’ll go. Maybe I can find somewhere to stay not too far away. I’m so sorry.”
Gently Elle said, “None is asking you to leave. I just want to know what you meant. I see nothing in front of me to suggest you need to leave. You telt Arathane’s staff that you had never had any interest in Islam because it was cruel and unkind, so what else could there be?”
Slowly with his head down Kamari said, “I’m not interested in girls,” but he’d run out of words.
“So you think you are gay or trans? Or aren’t you sure yet? Either way makes no odds to any who live here.”
Kamari stared into her eyes and said, “I think I’m gay. I don’t think I’m a girl, but I’m not sure of anything really. I just know I’m different and not interested in girls.”
“Okay. Like I said it doesn’t matter here. Are you still living with Aliesha and her children?”
“Yes. She told me to call her Mum to avoid any awkward questions. She’s like a proper mum, my original mum just let my father hurt me and never said anything, and even after he’d left she ignored me when I was in so much pain I couldn’t think about anything else. Aliesha calls me Son and treats me like I’m her son. The others treat me like I’m their older brother.”
“Okay. Now I know what you need I’ll set it all in motion. I’ll talk to Aliesha and see about having you legally recorded as her son. It’s easy to do. Jimmy our family law solicitor will have it done in a matter of minutes. Whether you find a girlfriend, a boyfriend or neither none will be bothered. I suggest you just settle in and find some friends. Off you go.” Elle was pleased with the conversation. She’d found an exceedingly intelligent child, maybe another vet for Bearthwaite. She’d calmed Kamari down as regards his identity issues and knew he’d soon find out that none of that mattered at Bearthwaite. Mostly she was pleased because she’d discovered that Aliesha was already a Bearthwaite woman.
Fifteen year old Taial was very different from Kamari. For a start he was obviously feminine and to start with Elle wondered if he were gay too. However it didn’t take her long to realise that Taial was naturally feminine not effeminate. Raim his mother had lost her husband to another woman so long ago that neither Taial nor his three older sisters could remember him. All the children could remember was living in one refugee camp after another. It had been safer for Taial to be dressed as a girl since being a toddler, for there were sections of the camps where boys above eight and men were not permitted to go, and it was much safer for women, girls and young children to remain in those sections. To enable Taial to stay with her and his sisters she’d dressed Taial like a girl right from the beginning of their first camp, for she knew many had lived in the camps for years and her stay was possibly indefinite, so she impressed upon him that he had to behave like his sisters. Taial had always enjoyed dressing and behaving like a girl and was happy to think of herself as a girl. In her mind she was a girl and was terrified that now she was no longer in a camp she would be forced to be a boy. Near starvation had delayed onset of puberty and half starved Taial was small, skinny and seriously under weight. Taial was permanently tired due to malnourishment and it hadn’t taken Elle long to get the entire tale out of her. Within twenty four hours she’d had her initial consultations with Sun the doctor and Grayson the psychologist. Despite the recent UK legislation concerning the use of puberty blockers on children Taial was prescribed them to buy some time because Sun believed that with the proper diet that Taial was now on, to make up as much as was possible for previous deprivation, without the blockers Taial could possibly undergo a more or less immediate and rapid male puberty. Arrangements were made for a consultation with Dr Tenby the London gender consultant used by Sun and all that could be done had been done. Taial went to school and everywhere else as the girl she was and was amazed to find just how many other girls just like her there were at Bearthwaite.
Six months after the ex Islamics, now rarely referred to as anything other than Bearthwaite folk, had arrived at their new home, Harwell had said when discussing recruitment issues into the rangers, “I know we got no men out of the refugees, but give it time, it won’t be long before those boys become men. A few of the older lads are interested in becoming rangers and go out patrolling with my teams over the weekends and school holidays. The women have all found a place here and are agreed their lives are much better here than wherever it was they were before. Most are married now and good few are expecting. Anaya who married Herbert last month is expecting twins, she wants a pair of lasses but he’s hoping for a pair of lads. The money in the taproom is on one of each. There’s nowt like a new baby, or even better a pair of ’em, to settle a body into a new relationship and a new home. I’m not worried about the lack of men that came with them, or maybe I should have said the men that didn’t come with them. We’ll acquire more suitable men in time. There’s a steady trickle of new rangers coming in all the time, including a few women, and I’ve got a few recruitment events coming up that I’m certain will produce positive results. We’ll have what we require by the time we require them and I’ll keep recruiting even when we do have enough, for I’d rather have too many than too few. Needless to say the military are delighted at the recruitment into the TA.”(15)
Buthar and Ásfríðr,(16) the former an old man with pure silver white hair and a full flowing beard of the same colour, the latter a tiny, pretty and intelligent, eighteen year old girl, her long blonde hair definitely defied any stereotyping associated with dumb blondes, who looked to be fourteen at most had wiped the floor at the last local elections in the Bearthwaite and Calva wards respectively. Buthar as expected by Bearthwaite folk had taken a hundred percent of the votes on a one hundred percent turn out in the Bearthwaite ward. On a forty-eight percent turn out, believed to be so low due to the appalling weather, Ásfríðr had taken eighty-three percent of the votes cast in the Calva ward. As had long been usual in the UK the elections were held on a Thursday, and that evening the Green Dragon Inn had been packed with locals eager to watch the election results be counted and announced on the one hundred and twenty inch [3048mm] wide TV screens in the inn with their friends. They expected to be there drinking and celebrating till well into the small hours. The results would be announced not long after three. Buthar’s result was gratifying, but totally anticipated, since he was the only candidate in a ward where none would vote for any else. Ásfríðr had been expected to take some sixty-five percent but eighty three percent was stunning, even if it were due to the rain causing a poor turnout. The local politicians had been shaken to the core. A senior Labour Party Councillor had said, “It seems that a giant has been sleeping in our midst that we haven’t even been aware of, and now it has awakened and is talking of fielding candidates in ever increasing numbers of wards till it has candidates standing in every ward in the county and possibly Cumberland too. Could this prove to be our Pearl Harbour?”(17)
What was even more terrifying to politicians everywhere in the nation was that hastily conducted polls suggested that the Bearthwaite Independents were well thought of by a significant minority of the electorate all over not just the county but the rest of the country too, and that was without any canvassing at all. The general consensus of opinion could be summed up in a few pithy quotations. ‘They don’t make any promises at all, so at least we know they ain’t lying to us.’ ‘Those folks at Bearthwaite and even the ones at Calva seem to be living gey well on bugger all money.’ ‘The only buggers living well here are all politicians or their flunkeys.’ ‘At Bearthwaite they have instant access to a doctor, a dentist, an optician and a chiropodist all for free.’ ‘All drugs are free there including the ones we can’t even get a prescription for, and that’s at over ten quid an item, or a small fortune for a PPC(18) think on.’ ‘We can’t even get past the bloody receptionist to get a doctor’s appointment.’
‘Dentist haven’t been taking on new patients here for years.’ ‘That school of theirs has some of the best results in the country never mind the county, and talk is the kids all enjoy going to school.’ ‘Bearthwaite school is a private school, but it costs parents as live there nowt to send their kids to school there.’ ‘Kids want to go to school there, and think nowt of going on Saturdays as well as during the week. Bloody evening classes too.’ ‘Murray McBride, their unofficial mayor, says all we need to do to live as well as they do is to kick our politicians to the kerb and take control of our own lives.’ ‘Adalheidis that solicitor lass says that we don’t need to pay our politicians if we do the job ourselves.’ ‘The clever folk at Bearthwaite are offering to help to anyone if the entire community has the balls to see it through to the bitter end.’ ‘Their politicians’ wages and expenses are all paid direct to Beebell and they get paid the same as all other Beebell administrators. You can’t deny that’s more than honest.’ ‘I reckon old Enoch was right when he talked about rivers of blood.’(19) ‘Must be the only spot in the country where immigrants actually integrate and become the same as locals.’ It wasn’t looking good for the folk who’d made a very nice living thank you very much out of knavery hidden behind smoke and mirrors.
In the UK a candidate has to deposit five hundred pounds to stand in an election. If they receive five or more percent of the votes cast their deposit is returned to them. Receiving less than one percent of the votes cast as usual the Tory candidate standing at Calva had lost her deposit. The Green candidate had received two point odd percent and so he lost his deposit too. The LibDem candidate had received four point eight percent of the votes cast and so had lost her deposit. Despite numerous boundary changes over the years, Calva ward had been held by a Labour Party politician continuously since the end of the second world war, and the local Labour Party had come to believe it was their right to have a Labour candidate appointed as Councillor for Calva. However, the Labour candidate had been totally humiliated by only receiving less than ten percent of the votes cast, and having his deposit returned certainly did not make up for the knowledge that he either had to find a job or fill in the forms for public benefits. The shock on his face when the results were announced by the returning officer(20) had been wonderful to see, well it had been for the Bearthwaite folk watching on the television. Above the din and jubilations Gustav, who had acted as Ásfríðr’s election agent, shouted across the taproom, “Just keep pulling ’em, Dad. I’ll write the cost off as legitimate expenses somehow, or Chance will for me. If that’s not possible I’ll stand for the cost myself. Stan, Dave, give Dad a hand will you please?”
The media were in a feeding frenzy in their attempts to manipulate the pair of newly elected Councillors to say what they wanted to hear. If anything Ásfríðr was tougher and more bloody minded than Buthar which was completely at odds with her appearance. She hadn’t actually said anything when she walked out on them. The media hadn’t given her the opportunity to do so because they kept shouting nonsense after nonsense at her hoping she’d agree or at least nod in their direction, so they could say she’d agreed with whatever it was they’d said. Buthar’s reception from the media had been little different, but he had had the Bearthwaite community hall cleared of reporters before saying to Ben Gillis, the one he had invited back in, “That bunch of arseholes outside are a major reason why UK politics is the complete fuck up that it is. They have no desire to report the news, they wish to create it. If you ever wish to interview me again it will be necessary for you to print what I just said. You may blank out parts of my words, but it must remain crystal clear what I actually said. Is that clear?” The reporter nodded and thought that his editor was unlikely to comply with that, but he did have a well followed online news site where he would not bother to blank out anything. He explained that to Buthar who nodded and said, “If you actually do that I’ll see you have free access to both myself and to Ásfríðr when ever you wish. If you get fired as a result of your online material, come and see me about a job working for Beebell.” Six months later Ben Gillis was working as a reporter and publicist for Beebell.
In the bestside of the Green Dragon, Alice asked, “So how is married life treating you, Olive? Had your first major barney(21) yet?”
“No and damnation to the man I don’t think I ever shall. He’s bloody impossible to row with. Mind that’s just as well because I couldn’t keep my temper with the kids the way he does if he weren’t there. All he says is kids and sheep are both hard work and loosing your temper with either will not only not get you what you want it’ll just mek things worse. Mind it’s becoming a bit easier with time because I know he’s right, but it just ain’t in my nature. And there’re nine kids in our house and ten soon. Don’t look at me like that, Aggie. I’m not in the family way. I’m taking about Mêl his bitch, and there’ll be a pup soon too which at least the kids are all looking forward to. He’s going to name her Vor, apparently it means cautious. He’s got all eight of them learning how to work a sheepdog which at least gets them out of the house for some exercise. When they arrived they were terrified of the idea of going outside which thinking about it is probably why he has them working Mêl. He’s clever, but never makes owt of it, and he’s a excellent dad, far better than I am a mum. I’ve done well for myself, but I suppose it’ll be a gey lang time afore(22) I admit it to Julian.
“Marjorie, bless her has given me a break with the lasses the night. All five are sleeping over with her four lasses, and Þórunn(23) has teken all three of the lads off my hands, though she passed all five over to Finnegan as quick as she could and packed them all off camping. She telt me after they’d gone it was the only way she could catch up with her housework. She had a pile of mending to do because her two lads, Ægir(24) and Arnþór(25) are powerful rough on clothes. She telt me that these days she sews the leather patches on the elbows and knees before the holes appear. I helped her out by by doing her ironing whilst she sewed. Marjorie telt me that a big group of lasses on a sleepover was no bother because they looked after them selves, so it looks like I’ll be hosting a sleepover soon, but definitely not with the lads in the house. So I’ll have to find someone to tek mine and Þórunn’s lads. Probably Julian when he does some low level shepherding.”
There was a great deal of chuckling at that because Þórunn had only come to the same solution that many of them had. Lucy sipped her cognac and asked, “Tell us again about your children, Olive. I’m sure we’ll need telling a few times, but I’ve forgotten most of what you telt me before.”
“Chloë is the eldest she’s fourteen, then there’s Fletcher who’s thirteen, Alison is twelve, Drake is eleven, Jade is ten, Nina is nine, Imogen is eight and Lee is eight too but he’s seriously in need of proper feeding because he only looks like he’s six. They are all underweight and underdeveloped, you’d expect at their ages Chloë and Alison would be be beginning to blossom to look like young women, but there’s no sign of womanhood with either of them yet. Chloë has yet to reach menarche which Sun says is due to real poor feeding and he’s given me a diet sheet for all of them. He reckons a few months on a proper diet will put them all to rights. I hope so. I’ll give my old man his due, he’s a proper man all right. I wouldn’t want to be any of their birth parents if he catches up with them. I don’t speak High Fell, but I recognised some of the words he used and they weren’t nice.” Seeing some puzzled outsiders she added, “High Fell is what the shepherds and wallers speak amongst themselves. It’s a gey old tongue said to be near enough what the Vikings spoke. Julian is a shepherd.”
Ellen, Alf’s wife, a home spinner and weaver who also sewed, knitted and crocheted said, “When Annalísa bought those llama and alpaca beasties for the kids she also bought a couple of huge compressed bales of their fleeces, one of each. Her idea was that those of us who process sheep fleeces could get used to the fleeces off the new animals before we had no choice. They make good yarn especially alpaca which is gey soft. It’ll mek lovely clothes for babies. I was surprised at how cheap the bales of fleece were given how much yarn you can spin out of next to nowt when it’s compressed. I reckon it’ll be worth buying in some some more for lasses as could do with the extra income to produce stuff to sell to the visitors in the tourist centre. I heard Murray suggested she buy the animals, but still it was her as did it. Mind those peafowl she bought had better be gey tasty to mek up for all that screeching and screaming that they do. Auld Alan telt me the best thing about going deaf was he could turn his hearing aids down when he went outside.
“Where’s your missus the night, Gustav. She teken badly?”(26)
“No. Nothing like that, Alf. You all know that now the twins have settled in we were after some younger siblings for them. We were offered a baby by Social Services who must be under six weeks old because she’s not been registered. The parents died in a serious road accident and there are no other relatives. What we didn’t know to start with was she had a twin sister. When Harriet found that out she gan radge(27) at the indecency of separating a pair of sisters never mind a pair of twin sisters. Phone lines must have been melting. Germain Cameron as is our local director of Social Services was giving grief to folk in Social Services several orders higher up the food chain than herself and Harriet was giving worse to Max Steadings, our MP.(28) Harriet near bit a senior Social Worker’s head off when she suggested that Harriet was being a bit unreasonable and unkind for rejecting the baby she’d been offered just because she’d a sister somewhere else. I was three rooms away when I heard her shout ‘How dare suggest I’m rejecting any child. I want them both. I’m not going to be a party to either of them growing up and then spending ten years of their lives looking for a twin sister they have no memory of. That’s indecent.’ That was the least of it, but with the help of Germain’s rather more moderate ranting and Max Steadings who against his wishes Harriet shamed into helping we now have both of the lasses. They were brought round about an hour ago.
“Harriet’s already taken the first dose of tablets to enable her to nurse them and a couple of the lasses with young babies are going to be helping her out for a few days. Susana the midwife with Mum and Brigitte are upstairs with her and I suspect we’ll have to organise a lot the night ourselves. Aggie’s sorted out a couple of barmaids for the bestside and Veronica is dealing with supper as usual and has found herself some kitchen help. It may be a bit chaotic the night, Alf, but we won’t run out of ale or chemic.”
“Well everything’s all right then isn’t it‽ Ale, chemic and supper are all in order and the rest doesn’t matter. These two little lasses got names then?”
“Not officially, like I said they weren’t registered. So we’ll have to get them registered pretty rapidly with Murray or Chance. Harriet has decided on Solveig(29) and Þórfríðr.(30) She always said she’d like a pair of Viking names if we were able to name our children. I didn’t have a say in it, so I kept my mouth shut. We don’t know who is the elder, so I’ll just have to explain that I wish to leave the date and time of birth blank till we track down who delivered them and where which may not help to determine who was born first if they can’t identify them. I sure as hell can’t tell them apart though all the lasses upstairs can.”
“Wise move that. Keeping your mouth shut I mean, Lad. You don’t seem to be over fashed(31) about any of it.”
“No point is there, Alf. It’s not our fault we don’t have all the information, and if they try to prosecute us for not registering them within the legally required forty-two days Jimmy says they’ll look like idiots in court and lay them selves open to a damages claim that will build to a tidy little sum for the girls when they get old enough to need it. Right now we don’t even know what date they were born on, never mind at what time. Jimmy said not to worry about it because there are legal mechanisms in place to deal with circumstances like these and even if the local officials aren’t aware of them the central registry is. Jimmy said if push comes to shove if we invent a birthday and put their times of birth down as the same, he suggested midnight, and either Murray or Chance includes a comprehensive explanation for the The General Register Office at Southport, Merseyside that keeps the UK family records we’ll be okay. Then we just leave it to them to deal with the Local Register Office, though he reckons they’ll just accept it and do nowt rather than risk upsetting the big bosses at Southport.”
Alf nodded and said, “He’s a cute(32) bugger Jimmy ain’t he?”
“So what exactly is for supper, Pete?”
“Due to the family situation things are a bit chaotic, Alf, so Veronica telt me she’d take over everything that Gladys and Harriet normally do as well as what she does, and Aggie is mekin sure all the temporary staff who are helping out know where stuff is and what to do with it. Gustav and I had no say in it, so we just let ’em get on with it and played out of sight. I heard talk of ratching out some mince and onion pie that they keep frozen for emergency situations like as this is. I saw half a dozen teenagers feeding the spud peeler and finishing them off, that’s tekin out any eyes left in ’em and dealing with any bits as need removing. Others were cutting ’em up into that bloody great big pan they use for taties. I had far too much sense to ask owt, and before any says it I’ll say it myself, not enough balls to either, so I presume we’ll be having pie, mash, gravy and some kind of vegetable. Knowing Veronica it’ll be either peas or green beans, probably beans because I know there’s a gey lot of ’em in the freezers. As for pudding I’ve no idea, and right now the kitchen is not exactly a safe place for a bloke unless he’s a teenager earning extra cash processing taties. Any as wants to know any more can tek their chance and go in there to ask for hiself.”
“Sounds like all is in order, Lad. Pretty normal really for when a lass is tekin receipt of a new un. It don’t mek any odds whether she’s in the straw(33) or like Harriet dealing with what are near enough newborns. Either road the womenfolk in the family are all out of circulation for a while and their friends all gather round, so as to mek sure the men don’t poison ’emselves by accident in the kitchen. It was just the same when Ellen was having ours. It’ll all settle down in a few days, a week at most.” There were noises of agreement going round the taproom because Alf had summarised nicely what happened when the womenfolk were distracted by new babies, and after all it was hardly a rare event, so all were familiar with the circumstances.
When Veronica entered the taproom she immediately said, “All is in order gentlemen, and your supper will be on the tables within half an hour. It will comprise minced beef and onion tray bake pie with a flaky pastry crust and mashed potatoes. The mince is local Hereford beef raised by Percy Armstrong, the onions are Bedfordshire Champion from the allotments. The pastry is made using local grown wheat milled by Phil with suet from Vincent and butter from the Peabody farm. I’m not sure what variety of potato you’re having because the label on the bag had dropped off. Alf, I suggest in future you and the allotment folk write the variety on the bags with a black marker pen as well as stick the label on. You don’t need to write all the information on the bag, but the variety would be helpful if the label drops off. Just so as we know whether they’re floury or waxy types really. You will also be served sliced green beans, Scarlet Emperor this time, and gravy made from bone stock. Most of the bones were from Elleanor’s bison the rest were from her dad’s Aberdeen Angus. Looking at the crowd here, we’ll need at least twenty loaves sliced and buttered, so I’ll have two dozen prepared. I’ll be putting out white sauerkraut made to Gustav’s mum’s receipt and Aggie’s pickled beetroot, both the cabbage and the beetroot are local grown at the allotments. If any wants owt else just say so. Aggie supervised the assembly of the bread and butter pudding. Sorry, there’re no sultanas or raisins in it, because we’re trying to avoid buying in stuff from outside, especially from abroad.
“There are, however, our own dried blackcurrants, dried seedless grapes which are similar to raisins and sultanas courtesy of the allotment hot houses, dried apples and various fruits that Harry was given in London at the fruit and veg wholesalers. All the fruits have been dried or preserved by Christine’s staff. We keep all citrus peel, which also goes to Christine for her staff to make marmalade with. However, they use a bit of it to make candied peel with. Some of which is in your pudding. The cholesterol level in the pudding due to full fat milk, double cream and butter is through the roof, but I dare say none of you are bothered, because the taste level will be through the roof too. As always like your bread and butter the bread is local, from seed sowing through to baked product, but this time the bread used was fifty percent granary slices containing some rye flour and soaked grains alternating with fifty percent white bread slices. The spicing is the usual blend, a lot of which, though not all, has to be bought in from outside. As usual the custard is in gallon jugs and we will have six ready for you and more can be made if necessary. Have the tables ready for us please. I’ll have a couple of youngsters who’ve never worked here before deliver your cruet, pickles and cutlery, and they’ll be clearing the tables after you have eaten. Please make things easy for them.” At that she turned and left in a hurry.
Dave seeing a couple of outsiders looking unimpressed at the prospect of bread and butter pudding said, “Don’t worry, Lads. It’s nowt like the shite you were served up with at school just to use up stale bread. Bread and butter pudding as prepared in the Green Dragon kitchens is a luxury work of art that we don’t get to enjoy as often as we’d like. It’s not a cheap dish to make, due to the fruit, butter, Jersey cream, honey and foreign spices that go in to it. I suspect it was put on the menu tonight to make up for the frozen pie which will be damned tasty, but the lasses in the kitchens consider that sort of thing to be a bit ordinary, what outsiders seem to call vanilla for some reason that has nowt to do with vanilla. Though a costly dish it’s also a relatively simple and quick dish to assemble which seeing as Aggie was probably supervising a young and inexperienced group of kids would have been appreciated. Trust me you’re in for a treat and there will be plenty of it.” At that the men looked much relieved.
“Christ almighty, Lads, family emergency or no there was nothing make do about that supper was there? That mince pie had mushrooms as well as onions in it. That made it different and gey tasty too. I normally reach for a bit of black pepper to grind onto owt like that, but it had just the right seasoning in it already. The beans and taties were excellent, but I’d better not say too much about them because I helped grow the beans and the taties were, if not grown by me, definitely bred by me. They were Bearthwaite Queen, my own variety. I’d better tell Veronica in case there’re any left in the bag. And that pudding was first class, even with no bought in currants, raisins and sultanas. The lasses have solved that problem haven’t they? Those dried black currants, black grapes and white grapes produced by Christine’s folks down at the Bobbin Mill were every bit as good as bought in currants, raisins and sultanas. Slightly different, but then every batch of bought in dried fruit tastes slightly different too. No need to buy either in again. Mind I think a few of us were glad of that extra couple of gallons of custard.”
Igor, one of the men who’d initially been concerned about being offered bread and butter pudding said, “I have to agree that pudding was something special, and I can see why it’s so well thought of. It’s nothing like what I had at school. I don’t entirely agree with Alf though because I thought the dried fruit was better than what big industry produces for the supermarkets because they hadn’t been dried as much, so on rehydration they were a bit more like the fresh fruit they started out as. I preferred the taste, I’m sure others maybe have different tastes, but I’m only speaking for my taste buds, and I’m definitely not claiming that I’m more entitled to an opinion that anyone else. However, I’d rename it Bearthwaite Pudding because it deserves something to divorce it from the idea of the school lunch nightmare. However, I’ve a question. I’ve noticed that whenever supper is announced the ladies always give you a complete breakdown on the origin and history of just about every ingredient. Why is that, Dave?”
Dave looked thoughtful and instead of answering said, “I’ll pass the suggestion about renaming it Bearthwaite Pudding to the lasses, Lad. I reckon they’ll appreciate it. You want to pick up the question about the origins and sources of our meals’ ingredients, Sasha? You’d do a far better job of answering it than I would be able to.”
“Okay. The answer is complex and I may not seem to be answering your question at first, Igor, isn’t it? Your father was from Moscow I believe you telt us a while back?” Igor nodded surprised that Sasha had remembered that. “I shall get round to your specific question eventually, but you will need to be patient with me, for to understand my answer in its broadest sense you need to know somewhat more about us. We have a unique culture here which has taken us all a lot of time, effort and money to resurrect, promote and then to maintain and most recently to spread. Many Bearthwaite folk who have been involved were originally outsiders, I for one. Many Bearthwaite folk have not lived long enough to see the fruits of their labours. We are different from outside folk and we wish to maintain that difference, unless of course outsiders wish to become like us by taking control of their own lives too. I see smiles, but I assure you I am serious and we are working on that politically as I am sure you must all be aware from the media. Half the time the media seem to be amused by us and what they consider to be our ridiculous political ambitions and the other half of the time to be terrified that those ridiculous political ambitions may just come to fruition.
“I’m also sure you are aware that prices to locals here are much lower than to outsiders. That’s because employers here pay much less, so we earn much less. Our houses are cheap and only available for locals to buy, though most locals are now selling them to Beebell under a unique but totally legitimate form of equity release agreement, and all the rest have the intention of so doing as soon as our solicitors and their conveyancing clerks make the property and land owners aware that they have the time to spare to deal with the paperwork. Beebell for those who don’t know is the Bearthwaite coöperative organisation that all adults here have an equal share in. The result of that, which is a deliberate economic policy, is most of us don’t earn enough to pay any tax, yet we live well, some would say well beyond our means, but that is not so. The large organisations here that employ a lot of folk, like the Green Dragon, are run as charities and again that is deliberate to legally avoid paying tax. Many of those charities serve two functions and the tax money saved helps some of our own folk, but it also helps some of the homeless out there who then become some of our own folk. The money covers the cost of our teams who find homeless children and some adults too in towns and cities all over the entire UK, and the costs involved to bring them back here and settle them. We also take money off the government for settling some refugees here. I stress the word some, and we decide who is acceptable and who is not, which decision is based on do we believe they can become Bearthwaite folk. The second function that those charities serve, and I deliberately left it till after mentioning the refugees, is simply to increase our population as a bulwark against threats from outsiders that we are convinced we will face at some time in the near future. All of that only works because our social structures are based upon total trust. We don’t have to like all our neighbours, but we do have to help them when they need it, for we are all secure in the knowledge that they shall help us when we need it despite our possibly mutual dislike. Personal and civic relationships are entirely divorced here. I’ll also add if any of those homeless and refugees don’t become Bearthwaite folk we’ll discard them and put them out without a first thought never mind a second one.
“There is a lot more to it than that, but that gives you a thumbnail sketch of how things work here. A consequence of that economic policy is a phrase that may justifyably be considered to be a mantra here, keeping money local. That means not buying in goods or services at outsiders’ prices, but buying them from here at local prices including having all and any work done by local craftsmen and women. Anything we can grow, raise or make here we do, that includes a lot of our clothes including footwear. Most of us wear clothes made either by our womenfolk or at the factory in the Old Bobbin Mill. Eric makes virtually all footwear other than wellington boots and he’s looking into that. He already repairs wellies that have sprung a leak. Some time ago we bought out the last outsiders who lived here and we don’t sell property or land to outsiders. Indeed it has long been part of the Beebell agreement that all adults have signed that we may not sell to outsiders, that is legally binding upon all of us. If we own land or property here and wish to sell up and leave we are legally obliged to sell to Beebell. That has never occurred by the way, though some of us have left for a while to work outside. Those folk entrust their dwellings to Beebell to utilise to house others whilst they are away.
“All of us, including our children, are constantly striving to increase our level of economic independence from outside. One way of doing that is for all of us to be constantly aware of where raw materials come from, how they are processed, with what are they processed and who does that processing. In short is as much of the money as possible being kept local. It is perhaps worth mentioning that all significant sales to outsiders which bring in money are done via the aegis of Beebell so that Beebell receives the money which minimises any taxation liability. Much internal trade is done simply on the understanding that payment will be made, probably in kind rather than cash, at some future date when convenient to both parties. As I said that depends upon absolute trust. None will break faith here, for that would result in expulsion from the Bearthwaite community. That, though it has never happened with one of our own, would be easy to accomplish, for Bearthwaite is an impossible place to live if none will deal with you. You would have to seek employment outside and buy all your food and everything else outside at outsider prices. It’s the principle some of the pacifist religious communities in America use to discipline their folk. They call it shunning. Not I hasten to add that Bearthwaite is either a religious or a pacifist community. The nearest we have ever come to it with one of our own happened long before I came here. The bloke involved I’m telt was a violent abusive man who left of his own volition. I suspect before he received even more serious beatings than he’d already sustained in fights he’d started.”
Pete interrupted Sasha to say, “No need to protect the bastard, Sasha.” He nodded to the outsiders and said, “He was Bert my oldest brother and he’d never lived like proper Bearthwaite folk not even as a young child. He was always starting fights which he usually lost. Vincent’s dad Karl prevented his brother Vincent, yon Vincent’s uncle, from killing him for trying to rape one of his lasses who was fourteen at the time. Karl telt Vincent to leave it to others to deal with because that way none would be doing gaol time. It was Jim, Alf’s dad, who kicked seven shades of it out of Bert. It was a life altering arse kicking that scarred his face and gave him a serious limp. He’s never bin back.” Some of the outsiders, the ones who’d been regular Saturday evening attendees for years rather than months, were aware that Harriet was trans and that Bert was Harriet’s biological father, but that had added a bit more to the picture for most of them. It also added a little more depth to their understanding of Bearthwaite culture. The residents had clearly tolerated Bert till he’d finally committed an act that had proven to be the straw that had broken the camel’s back. Then decisive action had been taken. Violent, yet controlled, physical action against one of their own who from that point was no longer a Bearthwaite man.
Sasha nodded to Pete before continuing, “We know we can’t maintain our standard of living without buying some goods and services in from outside, we are not stupid, but we can minimise the haemorrhage of wealth out of our community. A good example of that would be the usage we make of solar power. Every building here has thermal solar panels on its roof for heating. We make and when necessary repair or replace those panels. We fit them and do all other necessary fitting work using the local workforce. It was a steep learning curve for some of our plumbers and fabricators, but it paid dividends. We do not use photovoltaic panels because they are a sophisticated, expensive technology dependent on exotic materials only available from abroad. Since we could neither make nor maintain them we were never really interested in them. We considered the idea, but rapidly decided against it. None were ever installed here because they would represent a large amount of money leaving Bearthwaite and none knows how long they will last. For us there are cheaper and better ways of generating electricity, and bear in mind that Bearthwaite has never been connected to the electricity grid. Yes we all have a top of the range smart phone, but we buy them in from abroad in bulk for a fraction of the price they are selt for in this country. Most of what we buy in is bought in bulk by Beebell.
“We also have serious concerns about the way a lot of food is processed outside. Food additives to enhance food flavour, colour and in particular food shelf life are added till someone demonstrates they are not safe rather than not added till someone proves that they are safe. That bothers us, so in the main we only eat locally produced food. Varieties of fruit and vegetables out there are bred and grown for the convenience of the long distance transporters and the supermarket warehouses. Varieties that are in some cases virtually tasteless. Most tomatoes selt in supermarkets have skins so tough in order to travel well that you need a damned sharp knife to cut them, and I mind a child from here years ago saying he couldn’t bite into one. Consider some of the tins of peas selt out there, that bright green colour they have has to be just that: colour, added colour. No pea ever grew looking like that. It’s probably referred to as verdant green or even vibrant green in the food industry. God alone knows what that dyestuff does to you, but maybe we’ll find out in future decades by which time it’ll probably be known as virulent green. Vincent, our slaughterman and butcher, will tell you that he stopped buying meat from outside markets because it was tougher and less tasty than the meat he could sell to our womenfolk that he obtained from local farms. He believes that to be due to what those animals were fed on. However, it doesn’t matter what it’s due to because he votes with his money and doesn’t buy it any more, because to use a technical term it’s shite compared with what he can buy here from local farmers.
“Many of our local farmers increased their production purely to meet his increased demand if your pardon the pun. We have a coney farm here run by three sisters, coneys are what some of you call rabbits, those coneys are not kept caged, but in large barns. They are fed on locally produced grass nuts and a lot of fresh green material provided by our children who wish to do so to enhance their pocket money. Those farmed coneys taste infinitely superior to imported, intensively farmed, caged rabbits from China that are selt in various places in the UK. Most of the food produced outside our community that we eat is fruit and vegetables that are given to us by the wholesale market traders. The markets are only open five days a week. If they have any doubts about whether something will keep well enough to be saleable after a day when they are closed, rather than pay to have it dumped if one of our lads is there delivering they give it to us. We regularly process and preserve twenty-odd tons of such which is a tiny amount compared with what we produce here. We do buy spices and such in small quantities, but even there we are working on growing some of them here.
“Luke, telt a tale a while back about buying some Cumberland sausages that were a really decent sausage from a high quality family butchers in Penrith. They got lost at the bottom of his freezer for three or four months along with some commercial sausages from a supermarket. When he took ’em out, the commercial sausage tasted fine or at least as good as it ever did, but the quality Cumberland sausage tasted rancid.(34) That puzzled him, but eventually he realise the Cumberland which was a far superior product to the commercial one had no additives, particularly no preservatives and antioxidants in it which the commercial sausage would have been loaded with. The butcher he’d bought the Cumberland sausage from had a big sign in the shop saying no additives. God alone knows what those preservatives and antioxidants do to you. Vincent said at the time that he adds nowt like that to any of his products and he recommends you don’t freeze owt that’s got fat in it for more than three months. I mind him saying you can cut fat off a joint, but you’re knackered if it’s in a meat product because all you’ve got is some gey expensive food for your pigs or hens.
“Covid was in many ways a boon to us, for none of us caught it and we turned the clock back at least a couple of centuries in many regards to increase our self reliance and to minimise our contact with the outside. That created employment, tastier food, and a greater sense of pride in ourselves, all of us. Those pork cracklings, toasted salted nuts and the crisps [US chips] that you buy over the bar as bar snacks are all produced in the kitchen here in small batches. No more than a few days’ supply at a time. Some of the cracklings are black because they come from local black pigs. The crisps are made by an electric gadget that I’m telt is called a mandolin that can spit ’em out by the million in minutes. The mandolin drops ’em straight into the deep fryer containing hot pure lard not oil because like chips they taste better cooked in lard, and that lard is rendered out by the lasses as work in the back of Vincent’s butcher’s shop. The spuds and other vegetables for the crisps are washed and checked over for any bad bits, but they’re not peeled because Sun, our local pill roller,(35) says it’s good for you to eat the skin because it contains most of the goodness, though he also says too much fried food will make you die early at a hundred and ten. The best nuts are collected from the trees up at the valley head by the children who sell them to the kitchen, though when necessary we do buy some in the shell in from abroad which won’t contain any additives. The bar snacks in the bestside are some sort of tiny ginger nut that tingles your mouth. They’re made on the premises and the ginger is now being grown in hot houses on the allotments. I’m not sure if enough is yet being produced for all our needs, but there will be soon.
“In short going back to your original question, Igor, there are two answers. The first is because if we are aware of exactly what we are eating one of us may think of a way to improve our independence from outside sources and the second is because Alf wants to know.” At that the roars of laughter from the local men took several minutes to fade. Even Alf was shaking his head in laughter as he started pulling the first of dozens of pints of Bearthwaite Brown Bevy.
“What did you reckon to the bread and butter pudding, Lasses? It’s a new recipe that uses no bought in currants, raisins, sultanas nor bought in sweetener. I supervised it, but it was assembled by six little lasses that were helping out. All six were only twelve to fourteen, and I reckon they did us proud. The men reckon it’s a goer and shifted a couple of hundred weights [100Kg, 224 pounds] of it along with nigh to an oil drum’s worth of custard. One of the outsiders was so impressed he suggested we rename it Bearthwaite Pudding, so as none ever compared it with what they served at school that was just to use up stale bread. I like the idea of calling it Bearthwaite Pudding because it’ll look a sight better on menus. What do you reckon?” All the local women agreed with Aggie and Lizzie Caldbeck said she’d let Jeremy know. Lizzie and Jeremy ran The Granary, a high end silver service restaurante that was a lucrative Bearthwaite business in the old granary building particularly popular with courting couples from outside that provided considerable employment for locals.
“Does anybody know if Elin will be joining us the night?”
Aggie was somewhat pithy when she said, “Give the lass a break, Alice, she only got married last Saturday and she’s still got Natasha to settle in. I know Natasha’s doing all right at school and has teken up wi’ Víðir, and we all know that there’s nowt like a bit of kissing with a gentle lad to settle an upset lass, but seemingly she lived through a nightmare that she probably will tek years to come to terms with.”
Elle changed the subject abruptly by saying, “I thought that skirt suit that Louise made for Elin to get married in was amazingly elegant. It was hard to believe that a white brocade, business suit with such a severe cut could look so romantic. I’ve heard that a few other lasses are thinking of having Louise make something similar for their weddings.” The conversation rapidly moved on from Tasha’s trauma, which only Elle there knew anything about, to discussions of wedding gowns and the like. A number of the local women recognised what Elle had done, though not why, and realised that Tasha was one of the group of children that they thought of as the openly hidden ones. They didn’t need to know any more and would play their part in damping down such conversations too knowing that eventually most folk would forget that Tasha had anything other than a history similar to the hundreds of other abused and neglected children taken in from the streets and elsewhere that Bearthwaite had provided refuges and families for. Such things were not often discussed out of respect for the children involved which helped them to be rapidly forgotten by most folk.
“How’re things going at home, Jenny? The kids all getting on, or still some jealousy causing issues?”
“All’s going a lot easier now, Aggie. Neither of my lads have ever been a problem. Maybe because Finley had no lads, but who knows. The girls were an issue from time to time, but it wasn’t so much my two squabbling with Finley’s two as all of them squabbling with the other three. I think if they’d all been mine or all been Finley’s it would have been just the same. Lasses can be like that. The lads think they’re all off their heads. Karen thinks it could be the harbinger of early puberty kicking in. They’re all of an age where it’s not that unlikely. Finley says if it is we just have to grit our teeth and bear it till they settle down, so we could be in for a few years of hell. I think that’s the man in him talking. I go to work for nine, for those that don’t know I’m the Bearthwaite optician, and I go home at about five. He is a teacher at the school and always seems to be able to find reasons to stay after most of the kids have left, and he usually stays till dinner time. He says being a history teacher involves lots of kids’ projects that have to be dealt with after school. I reckon he’s just avoiding the lasses. Still things are good in the main. Adalheidis won my unfair dismissal claim without having to take it to arbitration and sorted the army out over my widow’s pension issues and Jimmy dealt with Finley’s ex.” Seeing puzzled faces she added, “His first wife didn’t come from here and she walked out on him leaving him with the two girls when they were ten and eleven. Then she put in a claim for maintenance. After Jimmy, who is our family law solicitor, looked into the matter she was lucky to avoid gaol.”
Elin despite what Aggie had said earlier arrived in the bestside at twenty past nine. Aggie asked, “I think we’ve all heard about Natasha and Víðir. How’s that going these days, Elin? Still promising or what?”
“She took Víðir with her when she went to visit Elle. I think that was to see if he was acceptable. How did that go, Elle?”
“She is one tough and hard young woman, Elin, who without doubt knows her own mind. I went to the kitchen to make a pot of tea and she joined me to help. Which left Víðir on his own with Sasha. I feared for the worst, but they seemed to be getting on well when we returned. They were talking about Víðir’s desire to work in a major finance centre. He was particularly interested in the currency markets. Sasha telt him if he were still interested in that in two or three years he had a number of friends in various places who’d be happy to provide training opportunities and he asked Víðir if he’d like him to inform them of his interest now. Víðir said yes, and they started talking about how Natasha was settling in, especially at school. I think we can say Sasha is impressed and is pleased they are an item. We all knew that Víðir was a kind and respectful lad, but I too am happy he and Natasha are an item.”
In the taproom, Joel Williams who taught meteorology at the school said, “I was talking to Auld Alan the other day. The meteorological office are predicting a gey calt December and early January, but Alan reckons all the signs are there for the coldest, longest winter on UK record. He reckons at worst it could be far worse than the nineteen forty-seven, nineteen sixty-two and the nineteen eighty-two winters and at best it’ll be a bloody long, cold, miserable time for all of us. He reckons it may not be a one off, but a sign of things to come. The data I’ve been collecting for years, which ain’t official and I admit a lot of it comes from Alan, suggests that he could just be right. The reason I’m telling you is I reckon we should be prepared for a heller of a winter. After all if it doesn’t happen we’ll just have made sure that food and fuel are distributed in advance. No matter what happens the work won’t be wasted, but if Alan is right we won’t be trying to distribute fuel and food under potentially life threatening conditions. He’s bin ordering in extra livestock feed for a while and is going to have his family and staff bring all his stock off the fells home gey early. All our shepherds and farmers are doing the same because they trust his judgement far more than that of the met(36) office. May be it makes sense to prepare that way every year, because the climate is becoming more extreme every year that passes. I’ve asked Bertie’s lads to look into how deep our water supply pipes are because any less than three feet down need replaced. He’s got back to me and says all of the major and critical pipework is at least three feet down and he’s got Tony and his machine(37) working with a team of lads on the rest.”
John Finkel, the Bearthwaite conservation officer, indicated that he had something say. “It’s not a tale, Lads, more an update on our environment. I was taking a walk over Calva Marsh the other day just to see what’s there and if there’s owt we can do to provide any help to owt that’s struggling a bit. What I saw was amazing. Amphibians of every type to be found in the valley, even the ones that are gey hard to spot with patience and time, are spreading like hell on Calva Marsh which I presume is due to Bearthwaite Beck being full all the time and the watter(38) that percolates through The Rise into the marsh being enough to keep it as it should be for the wildlife and vegetation there which is greener than I’ve ever noticed it before. The area must suit ’em down to a tee. The number of herons, and bitterns too, to be seen hunting ’em and the small fish there is nowt short of incredible. Herons you can see anywhere if you’re quiet, and I’ve come across ’em in spots where they tek bugger all notice of folk, but bitterns are rare, shy and usually damned hard to spot. Not there they ain’t. I didn’t see any otter but there was evidence of ’em all over the place, footprints and spraint.(39) There was so much evidence I must just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“The visitors are going to love that, photographs will be easy to get, they’ll just have to decide which ones they like best. What’s really surprising is you’d think with more watter in the marsh it would be softer and more dangerous. It’s quite the reverse. The top six to twelve inch where the plants have most of their roots is nigh on impenetrable. Part of that I’m sure is due to the plants I’ve never noticed there before. All are marsh plants with well developed roots systems designed to hold them down in soft ground, but they probably didn’t do well enough to be seen when the marsh was as dry as it was. Now they’re thriving and the ground is like a really well bound together sod which I put down to the watter from the beck enabling all the plant roots to grow and bind it all together as tight as a bull’s arse in fly season. That means we ain’t going to have any headaches about visitor safety over there. I suggest we give it a few months, so I can have a few maps knocked up shewing any softer spots and take a few good aerial clips from a drone shewing some wildlife before we start making it known to visitors. Next spring at the earliest seems about appropriate. It may be a good idea to knock a few carved numbered oak sign posts into the sod to form a recommended walk for visitor safety, I’ll have someone mek ’em for me. Thinking on what Joel just said the extra watter in the marsh means it’ll be deeper and softer lower down so even if we do have a heller of a winter the amphibians will be safe deep under the frost. Their metabolisms slow right down in the cold and they can get enough oxygen by breathing through their skin. Anyway, the diversity and sheer numbers of the wildlife there is going up through the roof, which probably means Adalheidis will have another battle on her hands to bugger the wildlife do gooders off.” John smiled or maybe smirked before saying, “Still there’re two Bearthwaite solicitatoruses(40) now ain’t there, and I’ve heard they only feed in court rooms. I also heard that the females are much more dangerous than the males.”
Bertie said, “I’d like to hear from Peter about their latest developments on the Model Railway which should be of great interest to us all because I reckon those lads are on the edge of making some serious coin for us all.”
Peter looked across at Bertie. “We’re not quite there yet, Uncle Bertie. But the ring train is finally working kind of ish. The speed hasn’t been an issue for months, but controlling something moving at that speed has been a major problem requiring us to create all sorts of mechanisms, some of which are going to be making the money you were taking about, but we’re going to need a top of the trees patents solicitor to deal with that. The speed we were aiming for was Mach five. For simplicity lets just say that is five times the speed of sound though it’s actually much more complicated than it would appear. That’s three thousand eight hundred and thirty-five miles an hour. Scale that down to HO scale, which is one in eighty-seven and what our modelling is mostly done at, and you get about forty-four miles an hour. That is just short of twenty metres per second or sixty-five feet per second. A model moving through the air inside a building at that speed is gey dangerous and even more difficult to control.
“We are currently trying to make a half metre long, ten centimetre diameter, twenty inches long four inches in diameter if you prefer, flexible rather than articulated model train fly through the air and enter a ring no more than three hundred millimetres, a foot, in diameter. The rings taper down to half that over a length of three hundred millimetres which corrects any error in the flight path by centralising the model inside the ring. Too the rings are curved so as to force a change of direction when the model leaves their influence. The entry side of the ring attracts the model in towards its centre and the exit side of the ring repels the model away from its centre in the direction of the centre of the next ring. The models we are currently using have a mass of approximately four Kilogrammes and have rounded blunt pointed ends to enable them to move equally well in either direction. It is counter intuitive but a shorter model is not necessarily easier to control than a longer one. There are factors that trade off against each other. We are still determining what the optimum solution is. As a result the mass of the model may be anything up to ten kilogrammes for the final model though I suspect about six will prove to be the case.
“If even a four Kilogramme model hit someone at that speed if they were lucky it would kill them, so we only increased the speed gradually as we progressively improved the control. The most recent speed increase has taken us to about fifty one miles an hour which is about twenty two and a half metres a second or seventy four feed per second. You can call that roughly HO scale Mach five point seven. Most of the time we can control it perfectly and the model ring train does the complete circuit, which follows two interlinked imaginary Möbius loops defined by the positions of the rings, perfectly. A Möbius loop is a loop with a twist in it. That is done so we can utilise both sides of the loops and double the length of a circuit. The second time around, the models travel upside down as one will be able to see by the writing on the train sides. The seats in the model are to be gimbal mounted, so will remain the correct way up all the time which means the model folk in the seats will be seen to be the correct way up when the models are moving slowly enough for anything to be seen. For most viewers that will be when the models are stationary at a station platform. The linkage of the loops is under electronic control which at appropriate points switches a model from one loop to the other. The use of the term points is deliberate because they are the equivalent of points on a conventional railway system. Unpredictably every now and again we lose control of the models and they fly off in whatever direction they were heading in at the time control was lost. That invariably destroys them when they crash into the transparent safety shielding. I’m not sure how many hundreds of models we’ve trashed up to now, so we only build them so they work. We’ll only make them look like trains once we’re sure we’re not going to trash them any more. At the moment we call the trains the Viking Hypersonic series and the plan is to name each of the nine individual models after a Norse god or goddess, but we’re open to suggestions as long as they have something to do with the sǫgur.”
An outsider in his thirties, who had not been seen before, asked “Sorry for the interruption, but what are the sǫgur? I’m Bill by the way.”
Peter replied, “No problem, Bill. Sǫgur is the plural of saga. Sagas is incorrect and not a word that is used here. The sǫgur are old tales of our ancestors which have recently become of interest to historians and the media alike. The recitation of them is called sagasay which is an ancient story telling tradition of saying them verbatim as they were centuries ago. Some of them are twelve hundred or more years old, but the most recent saga is less than a year auld, and I believe there are others still in the making right now.” Before continuing Peter passed his glass to Alf who to the surprise of a number of the outsiders filled it with an innocuous looking liquid known to be poteen of considerable strength. Peter took a drink and continued, “We have a reasonable idea what the control problem is and are confident we’ll have ironed out all the bugs in a few months. Bertie was right about this making money for all of us because a couple of thousand folk have worked directly on the ring trains speed and control mechanisms, though few understood what they were doing, and maybe another four thousand on the layout.
“Violet telt me that over five hundred folk helped to make the hangers and the runways for the Silloth airfield. The mountains, Skiddaw and Criffel, were created by similar numbers of folk including some of Jack Levens’ joiners who built the primary supporting structures. Initially our most serious difficulties concerned starting the ring train models from stationary at a station platform which involved elevating them into the air and then accelerating them up to travelling velocity before they entered their first ring, all using high precision electromagnetic fields. Even worse was the reverse process of negatively accelerating them after they had left their last ring to halt in the air before allowing them to gently lower down to the platform at another station. The two issues took us months to solve, and to our embarrassment both problems had the same solution which was not only easy to implement it should have been obvious to any number of us, especially me. We’re all hoping that the ring train technology makes loads of money, for all of us, especially the modellers some of who have spent hundreds of hours on what at many times seemed an impossible task, because developing the technology has been a rather expensive business so far, and we’d like to repay our financier, which is Beebell.
“The animated scenery seems to interest a lot of folk, not just the modellers. Before we even started planning the layout Jeremy telt me about a channel on Youtube that had some good stuff to watch called Ranoak. He was right there was a lot of inspiration there, but we were all keen to avoid just copying someone else’s ideas. I’d had some ideas and soon found more. Others provided a lot of input too. So far we’ve completed modelling the twin swing bridges at Barton that go over the Manchester ship canal, all with vehicles and vessels that move under control. One carries the Bridgewater canal the other the B5211 road. We’ve also completed modelling the offshore, sixty windmill, Robin Rigg wind farm and moved it higher up the Solway also with sixty windmills all of which are animated. Two of the prototypes in the Solway never worked properly virtually from the word go. We’ve done better than that. All ours work. The model of the The Salford Quays Millennium pedestrian lift bridge is may be half way completed. The model of Silloth harbour has working dock gates and folk are working on having the water modelling tidal behaviour so that ships can enter and leave the harbour from and to the Solway. A water mill is being designed again to utilise water as it turns. Let me see, what else? Numerous tractors working in fields and a sand quarry with working sand shovel machines based on Armstrong’s quarry at Aldoth, a complex set of traffic lights and a working blacksmith’s workshop with a power hammer and a smith hammering on a piece of metal on an anvil. I’m sure I’ve left something out but that’s all I can remember for the now.”
“You said that mostly you model at a scale of one in eighty-seven, HO scale. What did you mean by mostly, Peter? You want me to fill your glass, Lad?”
“Please, Cyanobacta this time, but just half a glass please, Uncle Tommy. Far away stuff appears smaller in real life especially big things like buildings, so we’re recreating that effect too. In places right at the back of some of our back drops we are modelling things that are thirty miles away, so the paintings, photos and low relief buildings that back onto the vertical back drop need to be much smaller than HO scale to look convincing. For some of the ultra low relief buildings we print several copies of the photo onto glossy photo quality paper which we stick to card of various thicknesses. Thicker card for stuff that’s nearer to the viewer and as the model is representing farther away things we use progressively thinner card. For the really far away stuff we just use the paper. We cut the buildings out of one copy and glue them onto themselves on another photo. Then from another photo we cut out bits that in real life would be in front of the main building like door and window frames and even extensions and glue them on to the already glued on building. We sometimes have four or five layers glued on top of each other to give a three dee effect. We touch up the edges of the card with appropriate colour to enhance the three dee effect. Chimneys cut out of thick card and glued on enhance the effect on houses. Sometimes we stick a low relief building onto a built up backdrop. That was a trick that Jeremy taught us. Some of Auntie Elin’s paintings and photos that form parts of the back drop are amazing because they have a changing scale within them and though you can’t tell most aren’t vertical. They are curved and lie back on to the vertical back drop scenery behind them, so that from where you view the scene they are totally realistic.
“It is possible to use various sized commercial stuff in scales of one to two twenty, one to one twenty, and one to one four eight, one fifty and one sixty, all of which are available sometimes on Ebay. However, mostly we make our own special scale models. We calculate what scale will give us the effect we want for where we want the object and three dee resin print the article the way Auntie Elin shewed us. It takes longer, but we get exactly what we want and once we’ve written the program, which takes almost as long as waiting for something to arrive from China, we can produce as many as we want for pennies in any scale we want. An example would be a herd of cows in the distance. If we want a herd of sixty cows in a big field we can produce them in a range of sizes to be placed progressively farther away as they become smaller. Some of the club members spend their time painting models because it’s what the enjoy most. Buildings in front of the stuff right at the back can be to a bit bigger scale and as things come towards the main layout they gradually increase in scale up to HO scale. Technically all these tricks are called forced perspective.
“However, again Auntie Elin uses a trick she calls forced perspective by manipulating the vanishing points to assist in that transition which makes it all much more realistic. I don’t know exactly how it works, but it makes things get smaller more rapidly as they get farther away than they would normally do. It works on anything. We’ve used it on a forest of trees and several rows of houses and other buildings too. Your eyes see them getting smaller and your brain assumes they are getting further away, but what it does is to enable a larger distance to be compressed into far less space than it would normally take up at HO scale. The end result is we can model a much bigger area on the layout. However the main layout is HO scale with a small number of things right at the front in OO scale which is one in seventy-six point two, so things are slightly larger. We use OO scale figures right at the front rather than HO figures. I suppose that’s the reverse of what’s been done at the back. A six foot man in HO scale is twenty-one millimetres tall, but in OO scale he is twenty-four millimetres tall. The difference is barely noticeable but the effect overall is, although most folk would not be aware of why.”
Joe announced, “The lads and I are finally the proud custodians of the Beebell Blaw-Knox asphalt paver.(41) The joke is it’s a nearly new, top of the range one in good condition that we used to use when we worked for Cumbria County Council Highways. As I suspected the two new Councils that replaced the County Council Highways department have got no lads left working for them who know what to do with one. Alf had a look at it, we knew what to tell him to pay close attention to, and as a result we picked it up gey cheap for what it was. Still not cheap mind, but well worth it. We’re thinking of getting aholt on a road scutcher.(42) Then if we bought some vibrating road rollers of various sizes we could contract to do entire resurfacing jobs, tekin off the top layer of knackered black top or asphalt,(43) relaying it with new and rolling it down. We’d then have road planings available. They’re easy enough to sell, for there’s a high demand for ’em, but it may be worth using some to tarmac the lonning with.(44) It’s got to be worth thinking about. Murray’s office is turning away work for the paver already because we haven’t got enough lads and we’re all agreed we only want to hire Bearthwaite men, no outsiders. However, things are looking up, Lads, because I’ve just teken on sixteen youngsters that Arathane recruited from hell on city streets, some from Aberdeen, some from Dublin and some from Norwich. Seems there’s no limit to where hell can be found. They’re all between sixteen and twenty-two and gey keen to get a start. I’m feeling chuffed(45) about things, so I’m in the chair.(46) Peter, start pulling a round on my slate,(47) Lad, don’t forget to include one for yoursel. I’ll wash a few glasses.
Murray was grinning as he said, “I’ve found us a swimming and water games instructor for the school. His name is Matthew Webb and he too is a noted cross channel swimmer. He is not a qualified teacher, but he has worked professionally for his current employer, an out reach organisation that specialises in enhancing deprived kids’ educational experiences, for several years with kids from the east end of London and he has had the enhanced police checks required of teachers done. He is married with three kids and his wife Elaine is from Mawbray on the Solway coast. She wants to come home to live near the kind of folk she is used to. She used to work in a small bakery, so may be she’ll fancy working at Alice’s bakery at the mill. He is from Ayr in Scotland. And before anyone gets it in, he is not a captain and he has nothing to do with matches.(48) They’re living in London and are sick of it down there and the constantly rising prices are undermining any standard of living they once had. Their kids don’t seem to be receiving an education worth a damn and he was more pleased that his kids would have a decent school to go to than he was about owt else.”
Hamilton held his hand up for some silence and said, “We’ve got the DNA results back on the Bearthwaite Water charr. They are clearly not Cumbrian charr at all, but from Lough Neagh(49) in Northern Ireland where they have now been extinct since about eighteen forty-four, which was long before Lord Alfred Challacombe was born, so unless other evidence turns up from somewhere we are no wiser than we were as to who stocked the reservoir with charr or when it was done. Doubtless the Lough Neagh Partnership(50) will wish some breeding stock, but we’re not parting with anything till our charr population is completely safe, and we’ll want something of equal value in return. None of us know what we’ll want off the Irish for charr breeding stock yet, but trust me we’ll be thinking hard about it. So far we’ve only netted six when trawling for the trout. As we’ve always done they have been tagged so we know they are six different individuals, four cockfish and two henfish. Two of the cockfish were mature specimens the other four fish were barely adult. There have been suggestions that we trawl other sections of the water in case they have a preferred habitat other than where we always trawl. I don’t like the idea of that, and nor do any of the others involved in our fish management. In any case I doubt if that would prove to be informative because I opine that the charr population is low everywhere in Bearthwaite water because as far as we are aware none have ever been caught by the anglers. All it would do is possibly damage the water floor where the fish spawn which we were not willing to risk by introducing carp, so trawling there is a non starter.
A much more contentious issue, or at least one none of us are totally in favour of, but we can all see the possible benefits of, is running the trawl at spawning season continuously where we normally run it till we net at least one female and one male charr. We would release all other fish and strip the charr of eggs and milt on the boat. The stripped charr would be immediately returned to the water and the mixed eggs and milt returned to the hatchery to attempt to raise more charr to a size where they could be released, at say nine inches to a foot. [225-300mm]. We are sure we could raise the young charr, hopefully a few thousand per henfish if the eggs came from older more mature henfishes who produce more eggs. Those numbers by the way are based on the assumption that charr reproduction is similar to salmon which is a close relative. There are a lot of unknown factors involved, but we opine the major problem is netting the charr in the first place. We’re still discussing the matter.
Hamilton hadn’t said anything to anyone, but he wanted to introduce European wild cats back into Ireland to broaden their survival prospects. They had been extinct in Ireland for some three thousand years, but that he considered was no reason to deny them their ancestral hunting grounds. Maybe he pondered the Irish would consider agreeing to that in return for the charr. Then again if they disagreed the matter was irrevocably closed, so it was probably better to just release the cats without saying anything about it to anyone. He knew their best chance of thriving with minimal chance of discovery was in the wilderness of County Mayo in the west of the Republic which with the deliberate rewilding that was going on there was becoming more and more of a wilderness with every season that passed, and in the unlikely event of one being seen most folk would just assume it was a feral tabby cat. He smiled as he considered how easy it was to do it using the ferry if a van were hired in Ireland in advance, or perhaps it would be better to assist Adio to land on the coast.
Alf had expressed interest in Julian’s Land Rover. “Julian, Bertie reckons that Detroit diesel in your Rover could be converted to start on bio diesel and run on rape seed oil with no bother. He’s already got aholt on a couple of others in serious need of some tlc(51) to play with. If it works would you want him to sort yours out too?”
“Bertie can do what he wants with it, Alf. I don’t need it to earn a crust any more. It’s a damned good vehicle and has done me proud over the years, but it can’t get to most of the spots Mêl and I want to get to these days. You need legs for that. As long as I can get a lift if I want to go somewhere and Olive can get to go shopping with the kids and the lasses whenever she wants Bertie can have it for me, Lad. In any case I’ll be getting my state pension soon and I can live handsomely off that here.”
“You got a problem if he has the lads strip it down completely, has the chassis galvanized(52) and has it rebuilt completely with a lot of more modern kit on it?”
“Whatever, Lad. It’ll be kind of good to know that the old lass will have another lease of life. Feel free. I’ve got what I want and need. A missus, kids, a decent home for us all, a job and Mêl with the prospect of a pup or two to train too. What the hell do I need a beast of a truck like that for? Going to call the pup Vor by the way. I’d like another bitch pup, but if there’re twa on ’em(53) available I’ll call t’other un Morpeth.”
Alf was amused at that, for Morpeth was the county town of the neighbouring county of Northumberland which lay to the east of Bearthwaite and it seemed a strange name to give a bitch, but the shepherds were known to be an eccentric bunch of folk at best.
Stan was partnering Dave and they’d just lost badly to Pete and Sun, “Well bugger me, Sun! How did you get to be so much better so quickly? I’d never have guessed you’d have kept that last domino. Most would have played it a couple of turns since. I’ll get ’em in, Bearthwaite brown or Clarence’s latest IPA?”(54)
“Brown please. I’ve been practising, but remember I’m Chinese and we’ve been playing strategy games for more than four thousand years. Good players enjoy high status even in remote rural villages.”
“I’d no idea you were that old, Lad. Four thousand you say?” After the laughter faded Stan asked, “Who did you practise with?”
“Just myself, but playing my left hand against my right. Dominoes is an intellectual endeavour after all. It’s just a matter of, to paraphrase a biblical expression, never letting the left hand know what the right hand is doing.”(55)
Elle had gone upstairs with Gustav to see the little girls which left Pete, Sasha, young Peter and a bottle of Lagavulin keeping company in the taproom. Even Adio and Alerica had gone up to their suite. “Is there owt we need to discuss other than the merits of this malt, Sasha?” Pete asked with a grin on his face.
“Probably not much, Pete. Buthar and Ásfríðr seem to have the matter of local politics sewn up nicely between them. They’ll need advice, help and money eventually, but not for a while. They both know they’re all available, but their main concern at the moment is getting their faces recognised and a few key Bearthwaite policies so well known that they won’t need the publicity from the media any more. Buthar did us all a service when he took a chance on Ben Ellis. When Ben’s editor sacked him he put that all out on his website and everywhere else he had access to and it went viral. A reporter who wouldn’t bow to pressure or money. That did his reputation no harm at all, and as his employers we looked good too. His editor lost a lot of credibility and advertising revenue too, but like I said we can leave it to Buthar and Ásfríðr for the while.
“We’ve recruited a lot of folk of all ages from all over. Harwell made a good decision when he put Arathane in charge of the recruiters scouring the nation for homeless Bearthwaite folk. He’s found hundreds. A lot of them need hid, especially some of the kids, but that’s easy enough done and has been taken well in hand months ago. Grayson the educational psychologist has put together a team to deal with all issues connected with kids. He’s working with Sun’s team and it seems to be highly successful. Joel is looking into what we can do ready for a bad winter and a worse spring and there’re a dozen or more folk helping him, folk from all disciplines. What was it John Finkel called the lasses? Solicitatoruses? Well they’ve been preparing for war against the so called wildlife protectors interfering in our affairs on all of our land not just the Calva March ever since Adalheidis was last in court against RSPB,(56) so all is in order there. Fill my glass up please, Lad. We may as well see the bottle off, after all chemic does a little bit better in a glass than a bottle.”
Pete grinned and filled their three glasses up saying, “If Elle is much longer, Sasha, I’ll fetch another bottle. The only thing that strikes me as significant that needs done, and Murray’s started on it, is we need a bloody good patent’s lawyer for the modellers’ discoveries. Jimmy, Adalheidis and Annalísa all say it’s a specialist field and they’d be no better at it than you or I. I’d hate to see my grandson ripped off. Other than that I reckon it’s just gossip and malt, Lad. Peter pour some more if you would, Son.”
By the time Elle came down stairs Pete, Sasha and Peter were finishing the extra bottle he’d fetched. “Elle took one look at the three of them and said, “Don’t even try to tell me that that is the same bottle. And encouraging Peter to keep up with you is reprehensible. Home, Sasha.”
As Pete locked the doors and Peter checked the windows Peter said, “Granddad, I reckon I know how we can make sure we’re not ripped off, but my head isn’t quite as clear as it will be tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll tell you about my idea then. I’m off to bed.”
Pete smiled and thought, ‘That’s my boy.’
23266 words
1 Nasturtiums are extremely sensitive to frost and only a few seconds of frost are required to cause their cells to rupture and the plant to die. They are used by many gardeners as an indicator of the first ground frost, the first killing frost.
2 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 flavour and odour to potatoes that is reminiscent to Bearthwaite folks of their childhood.
3 Craic, the gossip, camaraderie involved when having an enjoyable time.
4 Whitehall, the seat of UK governance.
5 The new unitary authority [county] of Westmorland & Furness decided not to have a single administrative centre, but what are referred to as anchor points in Barrow, Kendal, and Penrith.
6 A pillar box is a type of free standing post box found in the UK. The implication here is wearing a complete head to toe covering with just a slit at the top to see through, or in the case of a pillar box to post a letter through. It is a commonplace English English insult concerning women wearing a burqa.
7 Turbine, commonplace English English pejorative reference to a turban.
8 Thick as a brick, expression meaning stupid. Thick in UK English means unintelligent.
9 Suit, pejorative term for an office flunky, or indeed any man who doesn’t work with his hands.
10 EFL, English as a Foreign Language.
11 Yance ower, dialectal once over, often associated with children’s bed time stories as once upon a time.
12 Woad, a plant from which a blue dye stuff may be produced. According to age old stories ancient Britons went into battle naked with their skin painted with woad. Annalísa’s use of the reference is symbolic rather than literal.
13 There has been a recent change in the GCSE grading system. It now goes from 9 to 1. (9 is the highest grade and is higher than the old A* grade. A*, A star, was a higher grade than an A.
14 GCSE, General Certificate of Secondary Education. Examinations usually taken by 15/16 year olds in the UK.
15 TA, Territorial Army, the UK’s part time reserve military.
16 Ásfríðr, Oh s free thur, the th as in the. IPA, aʊsfri:ðr.
17 The remark is based upon Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto’s sleeping giant quotation in the film Tora! Tora! Tora! regarding the 1941 attack upon Pearl Harbour by forces of Imperial Japan. The quotation is portrayed at the very end of the 1970 film as: ‘I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.’ Whether he actually said the words is the subject of much debate for there is no evidence other than hearsay to suggest that he did.
18 A prescription in the UK at the time of writing [March 2024] costs £9.65 per item to have filled regardless of the cost of the drug involved. A PPC, prescription pre-payment certificate, can save money. The certificate covers all NHS prescriptions for a set price. You save money if you need more than 3 items in 3 months, or 11 items in 12 months. A PPC costs £31.25 for 3 months or £111.60 for 12 months. The story is clearly set at some time in the future.
19 The so called Rivers of Blood speech was made by British Member of Parliament Enoch Powell on the 20th of April in 1968, to a meeting of the Conservative Political Centre in Birmingham, England. His speech made various remarks, which included strong criticism of significant Commonwealth immigration to the UK and the proposed Race Relations Act, which made it illegal to refuse housing, employment, or public services to a person on the grounds of colour, race, ethnic or national origins in the country. It became known as the Rivers of Blood speech, although Powell always referred to it as the Birmingham speech. The former name alludes to a prophecy from Virgil’s Aeneid which Powell, a former classical scholar, quoted. As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see the River Tiber foaming with much blood. The speech still resonates with many in the UK to this day. Many see it as a racist speech, but close examination of the text by any of intelligence refutes any such accusations.
20 The returning officer plays a central role in the democratic process. His role is to ensure that the elections are administered effectively and that, as a result, the experience of voters and those standing for election is a positive one. Amongst his many duties is to announce the election result.
21 Barney, disagreement.
22 A gey lang time afore, a very long time before.
23 Þórunn pronounced Th oh run, th as in thin. IPA θoʊrᴧn.
24 Ægir pronounced Eye yire. IPA ˈaiːjɪr.
25 Arnþór pronounced Arn th oh r, the th as in thin. IPA arnθoʊr.
26 She teken badly? Is she ill?
27 Gan radge, gone (with) rage, become enraged. Commonplace Cumbrian dialectal form.
28 MP, Member of Parliament.
29 Solveig, pronounced Sol vague, IPA sɐlveig.
30 Þórfríðr, pronounced Th oh r free thr, Th as in thin, th as in then. IPA θoʊrfri:ðr.
31 Fashed, worried or bothered.
32 Cute in this context means crafty or astute.
33 In the straw, in labour.
34 See GOM 35.
35 Pill roller, or baby catcher refers to a doctor.
36 Met office, meteorological office.
37 Machine, in this context refers to a JCB or other digger, [US a back hoe machine].
38 Watter, water. The standard northern English pronunciation in many places not just Bearthwaite. IPA, watə.
39 Spraint, droppings.
40 Solicitatoruses, a portmanteau word coined on the spot to imply a combination of solicitors and large carnivorous dinosaurs as in tyrannosauruses. John is referring to Adalheidis and Annalísa.
41 Blaw-Knox asphalt paver, a tarmacadam laying machine for laying down roads.
42 Road scutcher, properly speaking a road planer. A machine that evenly planes off worn out road surfaces, typically up to four inches at a time,so a new layer of asphalt may be laid without increasing the height of the road.
43 Asphalt and blacktop are both made from crushed stone and bitumen. Different compositions set asphalt and blacktop apart. Blacktop has more stone and a different binder type, influencing appearance, suitability for light traffic areas, and grip, whereas asphalt, designed to withstand heavier loads, is favoured for industrial uses and high-traffic roads.
44 Road planings are typically reused, for they come off hot and will reset, but they can in addition be reheated and even have a little more hot bitumen and raw stone added for a better surface. Typically reused on roads that receive far less wear than most public highways they produce a good road for light duty, but they need to be rolled out with a vibrating roller to consolidate them into a good surface.
45 Feeling chuffed, feeling good, happy.
46 To be in the chair, to be paying for a round of drinks.
47 On my slate, Joe is saying he’ll pay for the round. Years ago such reckoning was recorded literally on a slate.
48 On the 24th of August in 1875, Captain Matthew Webb of Great Britain became the first man to successfully swim the English Channel without assistance. He was used as a celebrity image on Bryant and May’s matchboxes and thus became a house hold name not just within the UK.
49 Lough Neagh, is a freshwater lake in Northern Ireland and is the largest lake on the island of Ireland and in the UK. It has a surface area of 151 square miles (392 square kilometres) and is about 19 miles (31 km) long and 9 miles (14km) wide.
50 The Lough Neagh Partnership is a stakeholder organisation that was established in 2003 to help manage and protect Lough Neagh. The board of the partnership is made up of elected representatives, landowners, fishermen, farmers and local communities.
51 Tlc, tea ell see Tender Loving Care, a widely used expression in the UK.
52 Galvanization or galvanizing is the process of applying a protective zinc coating to steel or iron, to prevent rusting. The most common method is hot dip galvanizing, in which the parts are coated by submerging them in a bath of hot, molten zinc.
53 Twa on ’em, dialectal two of them.
54 IPA, India Pale Ale.
55 Matthew 6:3 But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing. NIV, New International Version. The meaning is to be quiet concerning your generosity. Nowadays the more general meaning is just to keep matters to yourself, or to compartmentalise who knows what. Sun is here implying not to let what he knows about the dominoes in one hand influence what would be his best move with his other hand without such knowledge which is not as easy as it may appear.
56 RSPB, the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds. In 2021/22 the RSPB had revenue of £157 million, 2,200 employees, 10,500 volunteers and 1.1 million members (including 195,000 youth members), making it one of the world’s largest wildlife conservation organisations. The RSPB has many local groups and maintains 222 nature reserves. It should also be noted that RSPB has been accused of being an institutional bully and there is a view that no charity should be allowed to have so much land, money and power, and that they should be taken over by the government. It is doubtful that would change anything, for all governments are the biggest bullies of those they govern and they hate competition.
