Nice sunny morning for us to recount our stories although low in numbers. Sue voted the best story.

"The Text" 26/6/17

The text of the sermon was "Love thy neighbour".

"Huh," thought Mary, "In the wider context that may be very well, but when it comes to actual neighbours, then that's a very different kettle of fish." The voice of the minister, Reverend Dave, as he liked to be called, began to fade into her distant consciousness, as she sourly contemplated her immediate neighbours.

Tolldene was a sleepy village at the foot of the Downs and had always been a delightful place to live, with most residents spending the rest of their lives there once they had discovered it.  Sadly, the local youngsters beat a hasty retreat once they were independent enough to do so, but that was natural.  Then everything changed, as far as Mary was concerned, when the Waymans arrived.

They had drawn up on the grass outside the cottage next door and started to spill out, first Mum and Dad, then the children.  Mary, who just happened to be in her front garden, watched open-mouthed.  They came tumbling out, tall and short, chubby and skinny, and she counted six of them, including a very grubby and chubby baby in the arms of its older sister.  To add to the chaos, three dogs followed, a couple of lurcher types with shaggy grey coats and lastly a bundle of energy, a Jack Russell, which ran round and round the whole group barking excitedly.  The most astonishing thing of all, though, was that their mode of transport was an old gypsy caravan pulled by a sturdy grey mare!

Mary rushed out of her gate, waving her arms in the air and calling, " No, no, no, you can't stop there, that's a private house and the new owners are due to arrive any day now!"

The big, shaggy man turned towards her and beamed, "Don't worry about that, love, we ARE the new owners and, as soon as the rest of our stuff has come, we'll put Danny and the rig away off the road.  There's plenty of room for him in the barn and paddock, and the vardo will look grand in the garden.  I'm Bill Wayman, by the way, and this is my wife, Lizzie.  I won't introduce the children as they're a tad difficult to remember at first, but you'll soon get to know them."  He stuck out a large brown hand and pumped Mary's vigorously up and down, beaming all the time.  Lizzie duly did the same and Mary whispered feebly, "How do you do," before retreating hastily to her kitchen.

A period of what could only be described as utter chaos ensued, for as the days passed a procession of vehicles of every shape and size pulled into the drive next door and, amid much shouting, laughing and joking, offloaded their cargo.

Finally they seemed to have assimilated everything into the large rambling cottage and relative peace ensued.  Mary remained very nervous, though, especially when various children knocked at her back door and asked whether she was all right, or whether she would come over for a cup of tea.  She always said she was just going out, politely, and firmly shut the door.

Mary walked slowly back from church, wondering what today would bring, and started preparing her solitary lunch.  Her mind must have been miles away, because suddenly the knife slipped and sliced deeply into her wrist.  Blood spurted out all over her and the work surface.  She slapped her other hand over her wrist and turned too quickly, suddenly felt giddy, and crashed to the floor, hitting her head as she fell.

The next thing she knew was a soothing voice saying, "Rest easy, my love, an ambulance is on its way and I'm just keeping your hand up in the air."  Lizzie knelt beside Mary and reassured her until the ambulance arrived and whisked her away.

After her wrist had been stitched and she had spent a night in hospital, just to make sure she was okay, she prepared to call a taxi.  Before she could even lift the receiver, a cheerful voice behind her said, "Are you ready to go, love, the car's outside," and Bill steered Mary out to Lizzie, who was waiting beside a gleaming Jaguar.  Mary's mouth dropped open in surprise and Bill and Lizzie roared with laughter.  "It's okay, love, we know what you thought, but we are perfectly ordinary people who just love to play gypsy sometimes.  We'll get on famously, don't worry yourself about that."

And they did!

Next month   "Her suggestion"  24th July Chez Nous