The Grumpy Old Men’s Society was quorate but not quite ready to start for it was still a bit early. They were all still on their first pint and the talk was mostly about the freshly decorated taproom. The décor was the same as it had been years before when last decorated, but it had darkened over the years. Mostly the darkening happened years ago from tobacco smoke in the days when virtually everyone smoked. Despite the law, complainers about the few who still smoked were not made welcome in the taproom of The Green Dragon. Now hardly any one smoked and the heat exchanger air fans put what smoke there was straight outside without cooling the room any, so it was anticipated the décor would stay bright and light for much longer.
There was some discussion of Gladys’ and Pete’s recent anniversary party. They all knew Pete had married Gladys as a forty two year old divorcee when she was twenty-one, twenty one years ago, and they’d recently celebrated the fact with a huge party in the new dance hall that was part of the extension they’d built not so much onto The Green Dragon as into it. The architects’ brief had been that it must not be possible to tell what was new and what was original, which had increased the cost considerably. The couple considered it had been worth the extra money, for The Green Dragon still looked like the old fashioned rural pub it had always been.
Daniel the previous landlord and Gladys’ ex-boss had died at eighty-four a couple of years ago, and Gladys had continued to manage the pub whilst the paperwork was sorted out. Daniel had no family in the area, he’d come from Devon, and he’d left a sizeable bequest to Gladys who’d worked for him since leaving school at sixteen. A fortnight after the reading of the will, she’d been offered the pub at a knock down price for an instant rather than a quick sale by the estate’s solicitors. She’d been given twenty-four hours to decide whether she wanted the place or not. Gladys had been terrified at the idea of a mortgage that size, but Pete had telt her if she used the money Daniel had left her as the deposit it was all doable. She’d nodded and said, “That’s probably what Daniel left it me for, and it’s entirely in keeping with the crafty old sod not to have said so, and he probably put that twenty-four hour clause in too.” Gladys had been very fond of Daniel and at the time was still struggling to come to terms with losing him.
When Pete had talked to Sasha about it Sasha had said he’d lend them the rest as a private mortgage at a rate one percent less than anywhere else because he didn’t want some stranger coming in and ripping the place apart to bring it ‘up to date’, and in any case that was still a better return on his money than most places were offering. They turned it over to the solicitors and the deal was done on the condition that no one else knew Sasha had put the money up. It was two years since they’d bought the pub which was a free house,(1) so it could sell any type of beers, wines, and spirits bought from where ever they liked, though the poteen and various distillates from eastern Europe and Russia kept behind the bar were not for sale to the general public. They weren’t for sale at all, but rather the private possessions of some of the taproom clientele.
The pub had done well under Gladys and Pete’s ownership and the extension was started a year ago. The extension to the taproom was Gladys’ anniversary present to Pete and the dance hall his to her. The rest they said was a present to the Dragon. Sasha had been delighted to put the money up for the extension under the same conditions as before with the stipulation that when the tap room was extended it had to be in the same style as the existing room with another identical fireplace. There’d been no problem about that because the taproom, complete with its sawdust on the floor, brass foot rail at the bar, highly polished but no longer used spittoons and dogs welcome here policy, was a major attraction in an area where most of the pubs were tied houses(2) and the owing breweries had completely sanitised and modernised them, which had done away with their taprooms. Most such in the area were struggling for trade to cover their exorbitant running costs. Sasha said after modernisation they were ‘soulless chromium plated gin palaces’, which Elle said was giving his age away.
There was talk of some of the pubs in the area closing, or in brewery jargon ‘being mothballed till a more favourable economic climate emerged’. The newly extended Green Dragon was seriously hurting other licensed premises’ trade because it was where the locals went for a night out rather than the often nearer establishments. Local being anyone who lived within a dozen miles, and it drew like minded souls and kindred spirits from much farther afield. It was traditional in that local men drank in the taproom while their wives drank in the best room, known as the lounge or the room, except of course on Sundays when freshly shaved men dressed in their finest would be ‘out on the arm’ with their ladies in the plush carpeted lounge with it’s velvet curtains, gold tasselled tie backs and equally sumptuous interior décor. Gladys had wanted a really big room for wedding receptions and the like because the demand was there, and the extended lounge with its folding doors opening into the dance hall was perfect. Her own anniversary party held there was its first use and was the icing on her personal cake.
The newly built restaurante was popular with folk of all ages because it made no concessions to anything other than what folk wanted to eat, all suggestions were taken seriously, and the food was locally sourced where possible, superbly cooked and reasonably priced. Bar food was available to eat at the tables in the best room and the tap. All employees were local and the cooking was done by women and a couple of men with appropriate catering skills. They all had the ‘large family feeding without complaint certificate’, and most had no formal qualifications.
The Green Dragon was a local pub for local folk and there was a loyalty issue involved for the patrons that the large brewery establishments with their rapid management turnovers couldn’t tap into. Elle’s and Sasha’s diamond wedding was coming up and Gladys and Pete had decided they were going to threw the party of all parties, open to all just to see how many folk they could get in. Pete told Gladys he reckoned they would far exceed the fire limit, but what the hell. Gladys was already arranging staff to cook in one hour shifts, so all could enjoy the party. She was feeling smug now that the catering could be done entirely in house in the enlarged and modernised kitchens.
Pete started the evening’s proceedings by banging his tankard on the table and saying, “I’m going back to the days when Gladys and I were a lot more than friends but making our minds up about each other.”
“Stop being coy, Pete. You’re sounding like a teenage girl and it doesn’t suit you. Well it doesn’t if you’re going to tell em what I think you are. What Pete is trying to say, Gentlemen, is we were sleeping together, but I hadn’t moved in yet. That right, Love?”
“Yup. See, Lads, even when I try to be nice I get it threwn back in my face. It’s what happens when you take up with a bit of fluff young enough to be your daughter.”
“Oh, shut up, old man and tell the tale. And before you even think about it don’t ‘Yes Dear' me.”
“Yes Dear. It was a Sunday morning and Gladys had left the pub at three that morning. Danny wasn’t too well even then, and she was really managing the place not him long before it became official. I’d started work at six the previous morning and worked till gone midnight, so we slept in till about ten at my place on Glebe Street. Back of the old allotments it was. When we woke we were refreshed and a spent at least an hour on a matinée session before I went downstairs for coffee because we’d decided we were going to carry on till it was time to get up for lunch which we were planning on having at Oakhurst garden centre just outside Cockermouth. The food’s good and if the weather’s decent you can eat outside on that elevated balcony section that sticks out over the valley and into the tops of the trees. The birds and squirrels, red squirrels mind, are so tame some of them will take food from your hands. If you order soup the bread roll is home baked and arrives in the terracotta plant pot it was baked in, which is novel. When I went back upstairs, I was greeted by the ravishing sight of my belovèd’s naked backside as she peeped out between the curtains. I’d just put my hands on her when I was telt, ‘Stop it, Pete! Just look at this.’
“I looked out between the curtains to to see Fatty Johnson and Rolly Polly Tracy his missus, a pair of flag crackers(3) if ever I saw one. Fatty was huge. He only had a small frame, yet he was a big fat lad even when we were at school, but by then he was huge. Must have been thirty stone. [420 ponds, 190Kg] Now Rolly Polly Tracy was the female equivalent. She wore dresses that looked like marquees and when she moved her bosom looked like two little lads scrapping(4) in a sack. God know’s how but she’d had four or five kids, maybe even six, by then. No one I knew could remember ever having seen her pregnant, but hell she was that big you’d never have noticed.
"The car bonnet [US hood] was up and Fatty was leaning over peering in at the engine. There’s many a porn star would kill for a cleavage like that. As he leant over his trouser slid down a goodly bit and half his arse was demonstrating what a builder’s bum looked like on a bad day. I didn’t know whether to be impressed or revolted. It quite put me off the matter that my right hand had been dealing with which was a far more shapely backside than his. I turned Gladys round and asked, ‘How?’ You tell em what you replied, Gladys. It’ll be funnier coming from the horse’s mouth.”
Gladys smiled and said, “Why?” It took a moment for the penny to drop(5) that she was answering the question and not asking another and normal service was resumed after ten or so minutes
Gladys continued the tale, “Like Pete said we carried on having a good time and that was when I decided I was moving in for good and we’d get married. My family weren’t too keen on the idea because of our age difference, but all the blokes I’d been out with turned out to be idle scroungers who thought they’d get free drink because of my job, and at least Pete was working and wasn’t some male chauvinistic pig. Anyway I didn’t have to get married, but we thought it was a good idea because I’d discovered Pete wasn’t firing blanks. We’d been married eight months when Delia was born. My Pete’s a simple soul, all I needed to do to crack him up for months was say 'Why?' .”
Pete resumed, “I didn’t know Tracy other than to say good morning to, but Fatty was a decent bloke. Neither of them made it to fifty. Tracy died first, heart attack which didn’t surprise anyone. By the time Fatty died, heart attack again, three years later his kids were grown up, but I’ve never needed a reminder to watch my weight as I got older.”
Gladys was back with a tray of full pints. “I’ll fetch the others in a mo. You going to finish the tale Pete with our wedding?”
“I’d forgotten all about that. Oh Christ, I take that back, Love.” The others were laughing at the hole Pete had just dug himself into. “Yes. Well. I went to the registry office to give the three days notice, I think it was three days, and the two of us went down three days later. Gladys’ family had cut up rough about us, so we didn’t tell them, and I hadn’t had anything to do with mine for years. Of course it was organised, that was till we realised we needed a pair of witnesses. Fortunately there was another couple there giving their three days notice. They were a couple of quid shy of the fee so I gave it to them and asked them to be our witnesses. Job done. They were on public transport so I took them back to Allerthwaite after the wedding and that was that. I can’t remember their names and we never met them again.”
“Their names will be on my marriage lines,(6) Love, where they signed, but they were just two random met people who were handy at the time. I’d better check the puddings,(7) steak and mushroom with carlins(8) for a change this week.”
The chat was idle till Gladys reëmerged to say, ‘Ten minutes and supper will be ready. Another round, Gentlemen? Or are you making that one last?’
“Set em up again, Gladys Pet, I’m in the chair,”(9) Dave telt her.
There was quite a crowd in the now extended taproom listening to the craic(10) and it was a while before Gladys and a couple of helpers finished serving. Half an hour later the plates had been cleared and and they were ready to continue.
The men looked around as to who was going to continue when Alf nervously said. “I’ve got something I’d like to tell you. It’s not very long and not exciting though.”
“Good lad, Alf.” Stan said. Alf had always admitted he wasn’t over bright and was intimidated by Sasha’s brilliance, but the others wouldn’t have dreamt of excluding him. He was one of them, he worked with them, drank with them and lived locally. He was also a very good mechanic who had helped them out any number of times. They teased him because they knew it made him feel included, and even if what he had to say was poor they would hear him out with no hint of condemnation, and God help any foreigner(11) who tried.
“You know I don’t lend tools. When I was an apprentice there was a sign in the workshop that said, You can tell the mechanic who lends his tools by the number of new ones he has. I didn’t get it till someone explained the ones he lent didn’t get returned, so he had to buy new ones. There’s a new couple moved in over the way maybe twelve month or a bit more back, incomers from Manchester I think. She’s nice enough to talk to and pretty in a blousy, big girl sort of a way, but she’s a bit dim. I know, but if I think she’s dim then she really is, right? She’s maybe early twenties, got a couple of little girls not at school yet. Ellen says they call her Stacy, but I don’t know her old man’s name.
“I hadn’t met him then, but he came round when I was at work. Wanted Ellen to let him into my workshop so he could borrow some tools, didn’t say what. She thought he was a wrong un from the word go and refused. Joke is she wouldn’t have been able to get in anyway. You have to know how and she’s not strong enough to push the doors.”
Pete who often worked with Alf interrupted, “The locks and locking bars have to be undone in the right order. It’s like a Chinese puzzle. Alf designed it and it’s damned clever, and those doors are massively heavy.”
The others laught and Stan said, “Keep doing, Alf.”
Alf nodded and continued, “He pressed her and she telt him to go or she have some of my mates pay him a visit. After she telt me that, I checked the workshop and beefed up the security. There’s no windows and light comes in via some of those clear plastic sheets on the roof, but there’re sixteen by eight foot pieces of half inch steel reinforcing mesh with six inch squares, the stuff they put in concrete floors, underneath the sheets. I'd welded the pieces of reinforcing mesh together and it’s held in place by expansion bolts into the walls. The walls are cement block built and the door jambs and lintel are nine inch RSJs.(12) The doors are half inch steel plate welded onto a three inch angle iron frame to stiffen the plate up a bit.”
“How the hell did you improve on that, Alf?” Asked Gerry.
“I fabricated some hinges from half inch plate and welded them on both sides. The big door bars which slide locking the two doors together are already eighteen mil [three-quarter inch] bars and have recessed locks but I put new hinges and locks on the man door to the same standard as the big doors. I’d not long finished when the bloke came round. He wanted to borrow my oxy rig.(13) I reckon Ellen was right, scum if ever saw it. I laught at him and said, ‘Put a two thousand quid(14) deposit on it and you can borrow it for as long as you like.’ He said, ‘You’re joking.’ and I telt him he’d started it because that’s how much money’s worth he’d asked to borrow. He said he only wanted it for half an hour, so I said hire places did a minimum of half a day, call it fifty quid, or I’d do the job for a ton.(14) I telt him I didn’t lend tools to friends I’d known all my life and I hadn’t known him five minutes.
“He looked upset. He was maybe six foot two but I reckon I’d got two or three stone [28 or 42 pounds] on him so I wasn’t bothered. I didn’t like him, or I’d have offered to do it for him as a neighbour. I don’t mind doing someone a favour. A couple of winters ago a bloke knocked on the door when it was hammering it down hard enough to knock holes in the road. Asked if he could borrow a jack. Said he’d got a flat, but the jack wasn’t in his brother’s car. He had a spare and his missus was in the car. I telt him I wouldn’t lend him the jack, but I’d do the job for him. I know Ellen thinks I’m daft sometimes, but I’d hate to think nobody would help out if it were her in that car. I took the small trolley jack out of my Izuzu, the pick up, and changed his wheel. His missus looked like she was eight month at least. I got piss wet through doing the job, and he asked me what he owed me. I telt him to do someone a favour someday.
“Another time I saw a woman walking with a petrol can at the canal bridge. It was about two in the morning and raining hard too. I stopped and asked her where she needed to go. She’d been to the twenty-four hour petrol station and got a gallon and her car was four miles down the road. She was going home to Kendal. A gallon wouldn’t get her that far, so she was planning on driving back to the petrol station, filling up and then going home. I took her to the car telt her to put the gallon can, which she’d just bought with the petrol, in the boot [US trunk] and poured a jerry can into the car. That’s twenty litres [Five and a half US gallons] which was enough to get her home. I telt her to do someone a favour sometime. But that bloke from over the way I didn’t like so I just told him to bugger off.
“And Ellen was right about him being a wrong un. He was that bloke in the paper that beat his missus up so badly she was in hospital a month and he threatened the kids. He got locked up for three months and came home. Apparently some of the neighbours objected to what he’d done and didn’t think three months was enough. They dragged him round the back of the houses and gave him some hands on counselling. It was a fair pasting, so they say. I heard they telt him to disappear and never come back or he’d get worse next time. He took off and hasn’t been seen since.”
“I heard you were one of the lads giving him the hiding, Alf,” Pete whispered so no outsiders could hear him.
Alf smiled and whispered in return, “Not true. I held him down. I was the only one heavy enough to keep him still enough to make sure the others didn’t hurt him too badly.” Back in his normal voice Alf continued, “The lass has started divorce proceedings and is seeing James, Ellery’s lad. That’s Josh and Sally Ellery with the chip shop not Frank Graham’s missus Ellery the lass who has the hairdresser’s. James is a decent bloke. Does dry stone walling and is built like a truck. If that ex of hers come back he’ll regret mixing it with her new man for sure. Ellen says she’s pregnant and they’re just waiting for the divorce to be absolute to get wed. That’s it, Lads. Sorry it wasn’t much of a tale.”
Denis telt him, “Bollocks. Good one, Alf. It’s your round next but you telt the tale, so you don’t pay. I’ll get em in. Dominoes, Lads?”
Key to Word Usage
1 Free house not owned by a company that limits who they may buy from and what the may sell.
2 Tied house one owned by a company that limits who they may buy from and what the may sell.
3 Flag cracker, pejorative term usually, but not exclusively, applied to women. A grossly over weight person who is so heavy that she cracks the paving flags when she puts her feet down when walking. A Paving flag is usually two to two and a half inches thick and made from granite chip concrete.
4 Scrapping, fighting.
5 Penny to drop, old term from coin operated mechanism that did not function till the coin had dropped to the bottom, indicating thinking time. It took time to realise.
6 Marriage lines, wedding certificate. In the UK, the property of the bride.
7 Puddings, savoury suet pastry pudding, often steak and kidney, steak and onion or steak and mushroom. Without further description the default the is steak and kidney. A northern English dish.
8 Carlins, carlin peas are a small, hard brown pea known by many other names, such as; maple peas, pigeon peas, brown peas and black or grey badgers and were first recorded during Elizabethan times.
9 In the chair, paying, only used in connection with a round of drinks.
10 The craic or crack, a term for news, gossip, fun, entertainment, and enjoyable conversation.
11 Foreigner, outsider, someone not known to the locals.
12 RSJ, rolled steel joist. An I section steel girder.
13 Oxy rig, oxy-acetylene welding and cutting equipment, also known as a gas axe.
14 Quid, a pound in money.
15 Ton, a hundred.
