The Norfolk Long Drop

Wussername · May 12, 2015

I may have posted this before, can’t remember, the old brain is somewhat addled these days and so is my computer………………we are both challenged.

A Norfolk Tale.

It was late in the afternoon when the train from Liverpool Street London pulled into platform three, at Thorpe station, Norwich.

An announcement came over the loud speaker that the train had arrived, and on time. The trains crew disembarked and punched the air with cleft fists. Station staff high fived the jubilent crew.

From a first class carriage alighted a well heeled gentleman, from the “cut of his jib" one could see that he was a man of presence

.

Timothy Ponsoby-Smythe had arrived.

Clutching a small case and an immaculately folded umbrella he made his way to the taxi rank and having duly found himself a taxi, settled himself on the back seat and instructed the taxi driver where he wished to go.

The driver was pleased that he was not obliged to enter into an inane conversation about the when he first started his shift, when his shift would be ending, and what was his country of origin.

The passenger looked out of the window as the winter day finally came to a close with a mixture of sleet and rain as a curtain call. He could not help but remember his late grandfather, a Norfolk man, telling him all those many years ago "When the wind is in the East ‘tis neither fit for man nor beast"

As darkness fell the taxi continued its journey along the narrow country lanes. At last it reached its journeys end. The gentleman paid the taxi driver and made his way towards a small single story building with a corrugated iron roof. The bitter wind and the distant sound of the surf reminded him that he was a long way from his normal habitat.

He was comforted by a sign outside the building stating proudly that it was the village hall, underneath it informed that the Women's Institute met on a Wednesday . The Scouts every Monday and that once a month, on the first Friday of the month at 5:30pm was held the very meeting which he had travelled all this way to attend. The sign also said that the hall was also available for hire on the remaining days . But nobody ever did.

He passed the main entrance door and made his way on a badly lit path to a side door. On opening the door he immediately found himself in a place of warmth, of light, and a large number of local men all laughing and joking amongst themselves. A happy place, a convivial place, a meeting of like people. Their complexions were ruddy, weather beaten, men of the land and sea for the most part, and without exception, talked with accent of country people.

Timothy Ponsoby-Smythe, soon identified a man of authority, of substance, and in a very cultured voice introduced himself to the master of ceremonies. Who better to grant his request.

Good evening my man, delighted to have been invited, what,what!

Well that be nice of yer to cum, he said. His big red nose like an over ripe strawberry.

Afore we start is anything I can do for yer, cup a tea or suffin?

No no dear chap I am tickerty boo, but wouldn't mind a visit to the little boys room don't you know!

Well thars no problem. Wot yer gotta do is go down the path, roite to the end and on the roite hand side there's a shed with a green door thas in there. I'll put the light on so you can see where you're a goin.

After some considerable time Timothy returned. And upon opening the side door and entering the hall his spectacles immediately misted up. Gazing through a fog he could just make out the red nose of his new found friend.

How'd yer got on boy? Did yer find it all right?

Yes I did, and I'm eternally grateful to you.

But I do have one small comment to make.

Wus that me old mucker?

Well, there was no lock on the door.

There was a slight pause.

Dunt you wurry about that old boy, we int had any on it pinched yet!!

Old Wussername