Village Life

Years ago, when I used to travel on business, I used to stay in hotels up and down the country. On one occasion, I was due to work in a city up North and decided that instead of staying in a hotel  I shall stay with some friends I knew who lived in a village not so far away. About ten miles from the city I was due to work in. I stayed with them for about ten days or so.

Imagine a small rural village community consisting of one main road they called grandly the High Street, and 200 houses or so dotted around housing about 500 people. And that was your village. At the end of the road there was a butcher, a baker, but no candlestick maker. Instead they had a newsagent selling various goods including ironmongery, a grocery shop, a small pub and a farrier. A blacksmith who made horses' shoes and cared for horses hooves; and he also made metal gates and fences and little metal ornaments.

In a small village where nothing exciting ever happens, not even the changes in traffic lights, because they had no traffic lights, then everyone knows everyone else's business and the local community becomes tightly knit all knowing each others goings-on. This may or may not be a bad thing.

I had only been there a couple of days when everyone knew of my arrival. I was the stranger in town. I'd be walking in the street when people would say, "Ye'd be stayin at Theobold's cottage ye be!" Or they would say, "Ye're fellow be stayin with the Theobolds be  drivin that girly pink car, aren't ye?"

I'll have you know it was a last-minute hired car because mine had developed a fault and this was the only one available.

I used to smile in response to the villagers' comments and wish them a good day.

John and Irene Theobold were a lovely couple in their fifties who had retired from high-life in the city and decided to take it easy in a small rural community in the countryside. They'd been there for a couple of years and greatly enjoyed it. I envied them.

One evening I was in my bedroom reading a financial report late at night when I heard from the bedroom next door that the Theobolds were getting a bit friendly. Perhaps they'd forgotten they had guests or maybe they did not realise that their amorous encounters could be heard next door.

By the way ... as an aside, this reminds me of the day we went to the zoo as a family and we heard nearby a sound like "Hein ... Heiiin ... Heiiin ... Heiiin ..." We walked round to investigate and it was the tortoises enclosure. There were two mating. The male had mounted the female and was making all these noises as if proclaiming, "I made it", whilst the female looked bored reading a fashion magazine.

Anyway ... back to the Theobolds.

In order to save them embarrassment I decided to sneak out of the house for a few moments. It was not easy because the stairs creaked and there were one or two loose floorboards which betrayed my presence too. But they were too busy playing Monopoly so I put on my coat and left the house quietly.

It was almost midnight as I went out and walked towards the end of the road. Coming towards me I saw a farmer smoking a cigarette followed by his dog. The dog was not on a lead but just following faithfully.

When they reached me, he said, "Bit late be goin fer walk in't it, boy?"

Without thinking I replied, "I'm going to the shop to buy some milk!"

"It be midnight ..." he said, "shops be closed right now, they be!"

I waved without answering and cursed myself for saying something so stupid. I walked for a few more yards then looked behind me to check he'd gone. Then I turned back to the house hurriedly and quickly slipped into bed.

The next morning I got up at seven and went to the newsagent for my morning newspaper. He said to me, "We be open from seven in't mornin 'till six in't evenin should ye be needin anythin. And so's 't butcher and grocer. 'T pub's open 'till ten at night!"

I smiled and said nothing. As I made my way back I met the farrier. He asked me, "Ye got a horse boy?"

"No," I replied perplexed, "I have a car!"

"Don' xpect me te change yer tires at midnight. I close shop at six and go 't pub! And I do horses not cars!" then he laughed a loud rural laugh lasting a few seconds.

When I got back to the Theobolds, Mrs Theobold served me breakfast and said sweetly, "I have bought an extra pint of milk in the fridge in case you need a hot drink at night, dear!"

Within a few hours of my nightly escapade the whole village knew about it.

A couple of years later, when I visited the Theobolds again, a man recognised me in the street and said, "Hello ... ye be the Midnight Milk Boy, ye be!"