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magiccath · 6 months

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A very Noble Christmas

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which Donna is really fed up with her love-sick best friends and calls in Wilf for backup

A/N: if you're looking for a Christmas song to go with this I suggest "Christmas Tree Farm" by Taylor Swift and a steaming cup of cocoa. Happy holidays! xx

“It’s so frustrating, Grandad,” Donna groaned, sandwiching her mobile phone between her shoulder and cheek so she could use both hands to fold laundry.

“They’re not even subtle about it! They’re so thick they can’t even tell the other one has feelings for them.” she folded a shirt in one swift movement, placing it with the others in her laundry basket. She truly loved her best friends, but this was getting ridiculous. Having to deal with your level of obliviousness every day was starting to frustrate her.

“Have you done anything about it, darling?” Wilfred asked. Donna could hear a slight breeze over the phone. He was probably sitting outside, looking up at the stars.

“That’s the thing,” she groaned, “I've done all kinds of things to push them together.” She finished folding her things and closed the dryer with her hip. She repositioned her phone to hold it with one hand and the basket in the other.

“None of it has worked. Not even in the slightest,” she continued as she made her way through the winding halls of the TARDIS back to her room.

“Have you tried a romantic candlelight dinner?” he suggested.

“That was one of the first things I tried. I made a reservation at a fancy Italian place so they could eat pasta and look into each other’s eyes lovingly.”

“And?”

“Aliens blew it up on the way over.” Donna rolled her eyes, even if Wilf couldn’t see it.

“It’s like I’m living in a horrible slow-burn rom-com,” she grumbled in exasperation. “I’ve done everything, Grandad. I don’t know how to get their thick heads to see it.”

“Perhaps it��s time for my expertise…” Wilf whispered, deep in thought.

“Huh?” Donna asked, frowning.

“Christmas is next week. Bring them over for dinner, I can handle the rest.” Donna could hear the mischievous smile in his voice. Before she could respond or protest he had hung up. She pulled her phone away from her face slowly, staring at the blank screen before letting out a small laugh.

She shook her head, there was no point in telling Grandad “no”. Plus, she really wanted to see you two together and her efforts hadn’t done much.

Christmas might be a week away for Wilf, but Donna could just ask the Doctor to take you there now. There were some benefits of living in a time machine. Decidedly, she made her way out to the TARDIS control room.

The Doctor was hunched over the console, fiddling with some buttons and switches. You were a little farther down the console, leaning against it. Your hands gestured wildly as you talked excitedly to him. The Doctor snuck small glances at you every now and then, a subtle smile taking over his face. It still baffled Donna that you failed to notice this, he was hardly incognito about it. The poor guy practically had heart eyes bursting out of his head.

“Can we go back to my place?” Donna asked, moving further into the room. “Grandad has invited us for Christmas dinner.”

“You hate Christmas,” you pointed out with a frown. The Doctor nodded in agreement, both of you confused. Normally, you had to coerce Donna into Christmas dinner.

“I like Grandad,” Donna shrugged casually. She hadn’t really thought about her distaste for Christmas when Wilf made the plans. She had figured that her biggest hurdle would be convincing the two of you to celebrate Christmas a week early, even if you both loved Wilf dearly. But, then again, the Doctor had no concept of when Christmas actually was. Hopefully, you wouldn’t see past her thinly veiled lie.

You exchanged a suspicious look with the Doctor, determining whether you should trust her. Donna was known to get you all into trouble, even if she meant well. Silently deciding there was no harm in a Christmas dinner, the Doctor agreed. He’d been meaning to check up on the old man anyway.

“Alright,” he drawled, moving to flick some switches on the console. You watched him move about, your eyes following him as he rushed around the room.

Donna really hoped that Wilf’s plan worked, she wasn’t sure she could handle another minute of this. It was like perpetually third-wheeling but so much worse.

The Doctor landed the ship with his usual flourish, turning to look at you with a wide smile, “The Noble residence, Christmas day,” he said dramatically.

He held his hand out for you and you took it without pause. Donna sighed before following behind you as the Doctor led the way out into the snow.

The streets were dusted with a coating of stark white powder, a few boot tracks the only indicator that anyone was around. The snow was still falling, a gentle and soft flurry floating down to the ground. You smiled brightly and started to spin around in the falling snow, catching stray flakes on your outstretched tongue.

Donna noticed the Doctor was watching you with an equally excited smile plastered on his face. He had a certain kind of smile that he only ever wore when looking at you. The best way Donna could describe it was lovesick, and it was starting to get pathetic.

“Let’s go in before I freeze,” Donna urged, tilting her head in the direction of the door.

The Doctor nodded, his brow suddenly furrowing. He moved closer to you, tugging the neck of your coat so it wrapped around you tighter.

“Don’t want you to catch frostbite,” he whispered, adjusting your scarf as well. He stopped for a moment to look at you, your face flushed from the cold. A small smile tugged on your lips and he felt his hearts skip a few beats.

“We should go in,” the Doctor finally said, pulling back from you. His hand rested gently on the small of your back reassuringly, guiding you towards Donna’s house.

Wilf greeted you all at the door, a childish grin plastered on his face. A pair of reindeer antlers perched on this head, the small bells attached jingling quietly when he moved. He pulled each of you into an excited hug, squeezing tightly.

“How have things been, Wilf?” the Doctor asked, instantly following him through the foyer.

You hung back with Donna for a moment, putting your coats on the hangers and shaking out the small flecks of snow that had stuck to you. You slipped your boots off before padding down the hall after Wilf and the Doctor.

In the dining room, the table was set with nice plates and Sylvia was busy setting numerous steaming dishes on the table. You smiled and sat down in front of a bowl of potatoes, inhaling their scent with a small but satisfied smile. You loved Sylvia’s Christmas dinners and couldn’t wait to eat this one. The Doctor took a seat next to you, still deep in his conversation with Wilf.

Slowly, the rest of the food came out while the traditional Christmas crackers were opened. Wilf wasted no time perching the paper crown atop his antlers with a big, silly smile. On the other hand, Sylvia deemed them childish, and Donna didn’t want to mess up her hair. Still, you and the Doctor put your crowns on proudly. Once you had placed the brightly colored paper on your head you turned to the Doctor for approval.

“It’s a bit lopsided,” the Doctor commented, gently shifting the crown on top of your head. You felt a flush creep across your face at the contact, but the Doctor didn’t seem to notice.

“Much better,” he grinned, leaning back to admire his work.

Donna cast a wide-eyed and frustrated glance over at Wilf with an exasperated sigh. Surely he could see how ridiculous this was. Wilf nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t do much else to ease her frustrations.

Dinner went by in a blur of smiles, laughter, and lingering touches between you and the Doctor. His hand would brush against yours slightly and hang there for a moment. You could even swear that the Doctor’s fingers brushed against the back of your hand in a comforting motion.

At one point, you even used your napkin to wipe a bit of sauce off of the Doctor. Donna practically got up and left the table at that. It was as if you were already a lovey-dovey couple!

Once more she looked over at her grandad, wide-eyed and aggravated. How could the two of you not realize?!

“Are you seeing this?” she whispered to him, gesturing aggressively over at the two of you. Somehow, you remained blissfully unaware of Donna’s angry whispers.

Donna could feel herself going more and more insane as the minutes crept by, and the two of you continued your usual longing glances. She looked over at Wilf numerous times for assistance or even reassurance, but he just nodded knowingly. As much as she loved her grandad, she was starting to lose faith in his matchmaking abilities. Perhaps it was a dauntless task after all.

When dinner was through, you and the Doctor helped clean up the dishes on the table. You stacked the dirty plates and bowls, all the while happily whispering and laughing to each other.

You carried the stack to the kitchen with the intent to help with dishes before Sylvia yelled at you to get out. The last time the two of you had done the dishes there were soapy bubbles everywhere and only a fraction of the dishes actually got done. She learned her lesson long ago to not trust the pair of you with important tasks.

As you sulked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, the Doctor paused slightly.

“What’s up?” you asked, noticing that something had caught his eye.

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling, and you followed his gaze. There was a small bough of mistletoe tied with a brilliant red bow hanging above your heads.

“Huh, I wonder why they put that up,” you questioned. Considering there were no couples in the house it felt a little silly. Still, you felt a thrill rush through you at the implications of the small herb.

“I believe the tradition is to kiss…?” The Doctor asked bashfully, a blush creeping across his cheeks. He could be quite bad at remembering Earth traditions, but he was fairly certain about this one. Honestly, he really just wanted an excuse to kiss you.

“I do think that is proper,” you flushed, averting your gaze. You would never admit it, but you wanted an excuse to kiss him too.

The holiday music drifted in from the other room, the soft and familiar tunes filling the silence between you. The twinkle lights in the hall cast a soft glow over the Doctor, making his handsome features more prominent. As far as mistletoe kisses go, it truly was the perfect setting.

The Doctor moved closer to you slowly, his lips hoving over yours while still giving you space to pull away. Gently, he pressed his mouth to yours lovingly. The kiss was short and sweet, over far before you wanted it to be.

“That was-” you gasped, your fingers drifting up to your lips subconsciously.

The Doctor looked at you worriedly, suddenly concerned he had done the wrong thing. Maybe he should have asked your permission before kissing you. Waves of anxiety crashed over him, his woes written all over his face.

You took in his pained expression and furrowed brows and shook your head quickly, cradling his hand in yours softly. You smiled brightly, halting his worried thoughts.

“Amazing,” you finished with a grin. The Doctor smiled back at you, a twinkle in his eye. It all felt like a Hallmark movie. The sort of scene that could only ever occur if it had been masterminded. It was almost better not knowing that it had been.

With a sly smile, you grabbed his tie to pull him in for another kiss, this one longer than the last. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him. You could have stayed there forever if it hadn’t been for Donna’s sudden appearance.

“Bloody finally!” she cried out.

You turned around in shock, the Doctor’s hands still resting firmly on your waist.

“Wha-?” you gasped, slightly embarrassed to be caught in the act. “What are you yelling about?”

“I’ve been waiting forever for you two idiots to kiss!”

You and the Doctor turned a deep shade of scarlet and instantly avoided your friend’s gaze. The Doctor’s hands slipped away from you and you took a small step back from him. You stared at the floor, flustered. Next to you, the Doctor fiddled anxiously.

Donna rolled her eyes in exasperation, of course, the two of you were still going to deny your feelings for each other.

“I give up,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air before stomping off in frustration.

You turned to the Doctor with a knowing smile before the two of you burst into bouts of hearty laughter. His hands naturally made their way back to your waist, pulling you into him.

“How much longer do you think it will take her to find out we’re dating?” He whispered into your ear with a grin.

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misspeppermint2003 · 9 months

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Can you do a headcannon about pat from postman pat please

Patrick Clifton, also known as "Postman Pat", is a main character of British stop motion animated children's television series from September 1981 to March 2017. He is the postman who lives in an English village of Greendale with his wife Sara and their son Julian and their pet black-and-white cat named Jess in the United Kingdom.

He works as a postman for the Royal Mail postal service in the fictional village of Greendale (inspired by the real valley of Longsleddale near Kendal).

He brought Jess with him to accompany him as he delivers the post through the valley of Greendale. Although he initially concentrates on delivering his letters, he nearly always becomes distracted by a concern of one of the villagers, and is always keen to help resolve their problems.

Notable villagers include the postmistress, Mrs. Goggins; farmer couple Alf and Dorothy Thompson; the Reverend Timms; PC Selby, the police constable; Jeff Pringle, the school teacher; Peter Fogg, a farm hand; George Lancaster, a chicken farmer; Miss Hubbard, an upper-class woman; Julia Pottage, who runs Greendale Farm and Ted Glen, the local handyman and inventor.

In the spin-off series, Postman Pat: Special Delivery Service, Pat has been promoted to Head of the SDS and is now called upon to deliver anything. Each episode follows Postman Pat on a Special Delivery mission, from rescuing a runaway cow to delivering a giant ice cube. In his new role, Postman Pat commutes to the nearby town of Pencaster where he collects his special deliveries from the Pencaster Mail Centre. Postman Pat now has a newer fleet of vehicles including a bigger van, gyrocopter, 4x4 Jeep and motorbike, complete with side-car for Jess. He has a new boss, Ben, who tends to give him instructions (whereas he was his own master before the "promotion"). Pat also seems to make more mistakes in his work since moving to SDS, largely because the new format is always based on one delivery, which has to go wrong somehow (thus often because of Pat's errors).

In the 2014 animated comedy film "Postman Pat the Movie", Pat is planning to take his wife, Sara on a late honeymoon to Italy. He tries to afford it through a bonus from his employer, the Special Delivery Service (SDS), but their new boss, Edwin Carbunkle, has cancelled all bonuses. He plans to make SDS more efficient by replacing its human workers with robots, thinking that being friendly is a waste of time.

When Pat gets home and tries to tell Sara about the fact that the honeymoon is cancelled because the new boss has cancelled all bonuses, his son Julian shows him a television talent show, "You're the One", hosted by Simon Cowbell, who states the next auditions are coming to Greendale. Cowbell also confirms that the person who wins the contest will be awarded a holiday to Italy and a recording contract.

Pat decides to take part in the contest and his unexpected singing voice (Ronan Keating) wins the contest. Pat is to sing again in the finale, in a head-to-head contest with the winner of another heat, Josh. His Scottish-accented manager, Wilf, however, is very keen to make sure it is his client who wins at all costs.

The CEO of the SDS, Mr. Brown, and Carbunkle had been watching the contest on television. They say that they would like to use Pat in a publicity campaign including his own television series. Carbunkle also confirms that because Pat will be away participating in the contest, a robot replica of him called the "Patbot 3000" will be taking over his postal duties, along with another robot replica of Jess called the "Jessbot" as well.

After Pat and Jess are gone, the Patbot delivers the rounds like Pat normally does, but it behaves oddly and the people of Greendale are starting to complain about Pat behaving in such a way. Sara and Julian are starting to worry about Pat too. Meanwhile, Ben Taylor (TJ Ramini), the manager at the SDS, is fired by Carbunkle and is convinced that Pat doesn't want him anymore, not realising that Pat is a robot. Meanwhile, Wilf tries his schemes to stop Pat, not realising that the "Pat" going around Greendale is in fact a robot but they all backfire. The more Pat's family and friends become concerned, the more Pat feels guilty about coming on the contest in the first place.

And despite Pat's efforts to tell his wife the truth about why he entered the competition, he fails and starts to become fearful that he might have pushed his family away. It isn't until shortly after Pat's departure for the final competition that Ben and Jess discover that there appears to be more than one Pat and Edwin Carbunkle's true intent is exposed. It turns out that Carbunkle is in fact an evil megalomaniac and is making these robots to try and take over the world. Ben then rushes to tell Sara and Julian the terrible truth about Mr Carbunkle's plan.

Now fully aware of Carbunkle's plan, a desperate Sara informs the whole of Greendale about Carbunkle's true intentions and explaining that deep down, Pat has not changed. They all agree to head to London to support Pat, in an effort to thwart Carbunkle's plan. Meanwhile, Jess, who has stowed away on one of the SDS helicopter replicas that one of the Patbot 3000s used, manages to make his way to where Pat's performance, and he helps Pat escape after he is locked away in a dressing room by a Patbot and Carbunkle, who reveals that Pat's publicity was just to make people like him, so Mr Carbunkle could replace him with Patbots. They are then pursued by the Patbots and the Jessbot but manages to outsmart them all and get inside the theater.

Meanwhile, in the performance, a Patbot performs instead of Pat, unbeknownst to the audience. Wilf arrives, knowing it to be a robot (after defeating a Patbot with a magnet at the sorting officer earlier), uses a magnet to unmask the Patbot. Then, the real Pat interrupts the performance and gives a speech on what's really important and how he forgot to take time for those he really cares about. As Carbunkle releases the first few Patbots to kill off Pat, Simon and Brown, revealing that he has had enough of them hindering his plans, Josh saves them by using Carbunkle's phone to turn off all the Patbots before they can kill Pat, Cowbell and Brown. Little does Pat know that his wife and friends from Greendale arrive in the chaos.

After Brown fires Carbunkle and has him arrested, everything is back to normal. Unaware that Sara is listening, Pat expresses that he is only doing this competition to win the flight tickets for their honeymoon. Sara is suddenly heard calling Pat's name. Once Pat catches sight of Sara, Julian and all the people of Greendale in the audience, it dawns on him that Sara has heard the truth about why he entered the competition and is fully aware of Carbunkle's plan. Now fully aware that Sara has forgiven him. Pat decides to do his act but decides to change it slightly.

In the end, Pat sings Stevie Wonder’s Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours with Brown, Josh, Wilf and the people of Greendale joining in. Sara also takes part in the act. They both win the holiday to Italy but pass the recording contract to Josh, so Wilf is happy too, and all is forgiven.

#postman pat #fanfics #cartoons #films and tv shows

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petnews2day · 2 years

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RSPCA takes aim at callous south Essex puppy farm crooks

New Post has been published on https://petnews2day.com/pet-industry-news/pet-charities/rspca-takes-aim-at-callous-south-essex-puppy-farm-crooks/

RSPCA takes aim at callous south Essex puppy farm crooks

THE RSPCA has taken aim at the crooks who prioritsied financial gain over the wellbeing of the puppies they sold.

An RSPCA investigation found the group had sold 500 puppies, most of which had been sick, illegally to unsuspecting buyers in Billericay, Grays and Thurrock over a three-year period.

One of the gang, Stacey Hayward, 41, had previously been a legitimate breeder, but had her licence revoked by Basildon Council in 2018 after complaints about the dogs falling ill not long after sale. Her licence to breed dogs also expired in 2018.

However, she continued to sell and breed dogs, with adverts regularly posted online and old licence documents presented to buyers.

The RSPCA soon linked Hayward and Steven Foster, 42, both of Colliford Road, West Thurrock, to another address in Weymouth Drive, Chafford Hundred, where Kelly Bennet, 44, and Ricky Bennett, 42, lived.

Inspector Vikki Dawe, from the RSPCA’s SOU team, said: “The heartbreaking reality of puppy farming is that the welfare of the puppies comes second to making money.

“The sums of money involved are just eye-watering; and it’s another reminder of how unscrupulous this trade can be; and how dangerous poor breeding and trading practices are for dogs, pups and unsuspecting consumers.

“For anyone looking to buy a puppy, rather than adopt – we urge them to do their research, know the signs of an unscrupulous breeder.”

There was one happy ending for one of the puppies.

Wilf was just 10-weeks-old when he was rescued and went into RSPCA care. When he was 13-weeks-old he went to live an RSPCA fosterer in West Sussex.

“Wilf was scared of all noises and he had no doggy etiquette and didn’t know how to play nicely with other dogs,” the foster carer said.

“Despite his early challenges, he became available for rehoming on my birthday and so it was obvious that he’d be staying!

“He’s overcome his fears and is now a wonderful, cheeky chap. He loves his cuddly toys and is always carrying one around the house, and he loves to go for long walks in the countryside.”

Stacey Hayward, 41, of Colliford Road, West Thurrock, was sentenced to 47 months in jail.

Kelly Bennet, 44, of Weymouth Drive, Chafford Hundred, who the judge said had a “leading role”, was sentenced to 49 months’ imprisonment.

Ricky Bennett, 42, Weymouth Drive, Chafford Hundred, was jailed for 17 months for puppy farm related charges.

He was also given a sentence of 19 months – to be served consecutively – for assault charges, taking his total sentence to 36 months.

Steven Foster’s sentencing was adjourned to Thursday, November 10.

#Pet Charities News

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weshallc · 4 years

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Thank you so much for putting up with me, I feel back in a Bernie state of mind now (I was far too chilled). Let’s see where we go from here.

BERNS NIGHT (revisited)

This has been a Poplar-on-Tweaven production brought to you by the Crown Inn and sponsored by Mount Busby Farm based on original characters from Call the Midwife.

CHAPTER FIVE: Ae Fond Kiss.

“Who Shall Say That Fortune Grieves Him. While The Star of Hope She Leaves Him?” Ae Fond Kiss, Robert Burns 1791

“I Pictured A Rainbow, You Held It In Your Hands.” The Whole of the Moon, The Waterboys 1985

Bernie grabbed Val’s arm to steady herself. Paddy stood in front of her fidgeting with the cobalt blue fabric with a wide green check overlayed with a thinner gold and black one. His fiddling pulled at the kilt pin weighing the piece of cloth down at the knee. The tiny silver dagger bearing his clan crest caught the light from the hall where Bernie remained stood stock still in the doorway.

Paddy then reached for the frilly white lace jabot fastened around his neck, pulling at the lace with one hand, as if it was choking him. The other hand straightened the black waistcoat with the three silver buttons, matching the three on the sleeves of the Montrose jacket. They in turn matched those perfectly polished down the front of both sides of the centre of that waist length black jacket.

Bernie’s dropped jaw started to quiver as a chuckle threatened to emerge. Paddy shot a look of accusation at Val who intern nipped Bernie’s arm. Her friend regained her composure.

“I told you she would think I look ridiculous,” Paddy spat at Val as if Bernie wasn’t in the room. It was however Bernie who responded as Val’s confidence appeared to waver.

“No, you don’t. It’s just a bit of a shock. I am not quite sure what’s going on.”

“We..well some people thought it might be nice to put on a Burns Supper. Like we used to...before-” Paddy started to falter as he noticed Bernie’s eyes mist over.

“For your birthday.” Piped in Val, trying to help Paddy out and regaining her confidence. “I will leave you to it, I’ve left Jack behind the bar and well he is still pretty green, if anyone asks for a cocktail we may be in danger of losing our licence.”

On Val’s departure, Bernie moved towards Paddy. The forgotten scarf Trixie had placed around her friend’s shoulders fell to the floor. Paddy bent down to pick it up.

“Oops, be careful, good job there is no-one stood behind you.”

Paddy straightened up swiftly and stroked down the back of his kilt. Bernie allowed a relief filled giggle as she saw Paddy’s frown soften. Taking the scarf from Paddy, she sighed. The pattern matched the tablecloths downstairs. “My mother’s tartan, they haven’t missed a trick, have they?”

“Trixie was most put out when her attempts to discover the Mannion tartan drew a blank.”

“Mannion is an Irish name, sorry.” Bernie wasn’t quite sure why she was apologising for her name, but it felt appropriate.

“We all know that now,” laughed Paddy.

“How did you find the Home clan tartan?”

“Violet and Evie poured over hundreds of samples and narrowed it down to a few which they matched to old photos of Wilf’s kilt. They figured that was how the wily old bugger had got round it, using your mam’s tartan.”

“Everyone has gone to so much trouble, I feel like such a fraud. I just wanted an evening alone with you in Appleby Thornton.” Bernie blushed, feeling even more guilty.

Sensing her confusion, Paddy cupped her cheeks in his hands. “We can go out any night.”

Bernie raised an eyebrow at Paddy’s optimism. Even though Jack had turned eighteen and could now serve behind the bar, Paddy still found it difficult to let go. Most of their evenings were spent working or propping up the bar.

Any further discussion of their work-play balance would have to wait. The sound of familiar footsteps running up the stairs alerted them their presence was required in the bar. Paddy and Bernie followed Tim into a cacophony of noise, the sound of fiddle, banjo and accordion mixed with laughter and the pounding of feet on the wooden floor.

Tim grinned and nodded as Bernie asked, “Isn’t that the Bridges that come in on a Thursday night?”

“Apparently, before they were married, they used to go to Scottish dancing on Thursday nights.”

Kevin and the Tweaven Folk band sounded like a group of musicians who were enjoying a successful long awaited reunion, rather than strangers that had only met a few days ago. Apparently Kevin didn’t just play the Bagpipes but was going to town on the harmonica. Mac had found refuge in Reggie and had settled on a bench seat with the dog's head resting on the lad’s lap.

Alan Bridges and his wife Yvonne broke from each other and flew off in different directions to persuade, grab and drag the people sitting at the tables onto the makeshift dance floor. Fred was up first, taking hold of Vi who had pushed her nose out of the kitchen to sneak a peek at the fun. She protested, explaining she couldn’t leave her post, but Evie chased her onto the dance floor with a tea towel.

Bernie smiled at Patsy and Delia. She had never seen anyone quick step to the Gay Gordons before. Phyllis’ face was flushed as she tried to stay in time, partnered by a very light on her feet Lucille. Bernie grinned as Paddy dug his son in the ribs and Tim scowled, shaking his head in protest. Her smugness was short-lived when Alan Bridges took hold of her hand and dragged her onto the floor. She groaned to herself, realising she should have seen it coming. But she knew she wasn’t the only one who had been distracted and let their guard down. As Alan swung her around, she glimpsed a determined Yvonne pulling a very reluctant Paddy to the centre of the room. A massive cheer went up, and it wasn’t for his dancing prowess, but the first view of the crowd of Paddy in his Highland Dress.

Bernie couldn’t deny she felt a tingle as the lights dimmed and Paddy stood behind the tressel table. She could see how nervous he was, his thumb working against the forefinger of his left hand, the right hand turning over his phone on the table. Voices were hushed, sensing a level of anticipation in the air. She hoped he could see her reassuring smile. When he returned her wink she knew he understood.

Everyone instinctively got to their feet as the sound of the pipes flooded the room. Kevin slowly marched into the bar from the kitchen playing, Mac following at his feet, ears pricked. A few steps behind walked Violet, beaming proudly, carrying a silver tray with her pride and joy in prime position. She placed the dish in front of a very pale but focused landlord. Bernie noticed Vi gently touch Paddy’s hand after she had laid down her burden.

Paddy cleared his throat, and everyone sat. Bernie held her breath, she was relieved when he started reading from his phone in his own soft Northern English twang and didn't attempt a Scottish accent. He did struggle a little with more than the odd word and she noticed it was in parts an English translation of Burns’s Address to a Haggis. She did think her dad would be shaking his head and laughing if he was watching these antics held in his memory. As a shiver left her, she wondered if Marianne was also looking down with pride and amusement.

Bernie bit her lip. This was the difficult bit, if trying to read a 18th century Scottish poem out loud wasn’t hard enough. She knew from years of experience Paddy had to keep reciting while removing the Sgian-dubh from his woolly knee-length socks. He then had to pull the small dagger out of its black leather holder and plunge the blade into the Haggis at just the right moment in the text. She went to hold on to her chair but was surprised when a long thin hand grabbed hers. Tim’s hand was cold, but sweaty at the same time, and she squeezed it back.

The verbal response of the audience to Paddy whipping the blade out of its sheath made Bernie giggle, and she heard a snort from her neighbour. The following stab and slash into the unsuspecting pudding received equal responses of gasps and murmurs. She felt the boy’s hand slacken in her own and his breath released from his chest at the same time she let her lungs relax. Bernie felt Paddy was doing the same, pausing as the crowd regained its collective composure. He dared to give her a quick glance, and she beamed in approval. She wished she could go over to him and push back the wayward kink of hair that had fallen over his face during the dramatics.

Paddy finished the poem with ease following the tricky bit. He didn’t seem to mind stumbling over some of the unfamiliar words. It wasn’t like anyone was going to correct him. There was much relief all around when he finally toasted the Haggis, and everyone could raise the complimentary whisky they had been nursing since the beginning of the festivities. Not everyone had been patient and some found they were toasting with an empty glass, supping air. A nervous Bernie would have been included in this number, but Trixie had passed on her dram so she could at least properly take part in the toast. Paddy received a standing ovation. He wasn’t deceived it was for his faultless performance, but more for effort or maybe they were just hungry and glad it was finally over.

The assembled guests ate their fill of Scottish Fayre. The whisky sauce may have proved more popular than the spicy offal and oatmeal pudding. Although Violet did remark that Poplar’s vegan population had seemed to increase dramatically overnight. Buckle’s Breweries Burns Bernie Beers proved very popular. Ale Fond Kiss, Red Red Rose Ruby Ale and Auld Lang Stout all sold out.

The dancing recommenced to the Tweaven Folk band and its newest member. The Bridges and the lead singer tried to engineer a ceilidh of sorts. This resulted in a room full of mostly English people flinging themselves and each other about in an attempt at the longest communal twizzy world record. The highlight being every time Paddy spun around in his kilt, a large cheer went up as it splayed out.

Eventually he refused to dance and Bernie gave up too. She found him outside smoking one of her roll-ups. She just grinned, knowing he deserved one. Bernie hugged Trixie’s scarf around her.

“Aren’t you cold in...erm that?”

Paddy smoothed the kilt under him, between his bare legs and the cool wood of Peggy and Frank’s memorial bench. Bernie grinned and went back indoors.

She returned with two Abhainn Dearg malt whiskies and one of the tartan tablecloths. She wrapped it around Paddy’s shoulders before perching herself on his chilly knees, flipping his sporran up out of the way. Paddy took over the blanket duties and wrapped the cover round her.

Cold fingers fumbled over sharing the dying cigarette and they sipped from the same whisky tumbler. From where she had placed them, Bernie could only reach one glass without leaving the warmth of the tablecloth and Paddy’s arms. Paddy had long since dispensed with the faffy lace ruff and wore a cream open neck Jacobite shirt, again courtesy of connections of Patsy. As Bernie playfully twisted the string ties around the fingers of one hand. She slowly ran the fingers of her other hand along the hem of the kilt.

“Is this Turner tartan, then?”

“No, the Turners are from Liverpool, probably some Irish in there somewhere too, but my mother’s family hailed from Fife.” Paddy softly answered.

Bernie wriggled on his knee, trying to gain a bunch of the fabric of the kilt in her hand, as the band broke into Deacon Blue’s, Dignity.

“So which clan...ayyyyyeah!” She quickly jumped up vigorously rubbing the flesh between her boot and the hem of her dress on her right thigh. Paddy stared at her in confusion and concern.

“Something bit me.”

��It’s January.”

“Am I bleeding, is there a bump?” Bernie turned her back to Paddy and lifted up her skirt. Paddy started to wonder whose birthday it was. He used his phone as a torch and took his time giving a thorough examination of her right thigh. The eventual diagnosis was no injury to her person, but there was a nasty snag in her new-on tights.

Paddy also identified the culprit pointing to the clan dagger attached to the front of his kilt. “I think you sat on this?”

“You stabbed me.”

“You stabbed you.”

She leant down and carefully unfastened the pin from the front apron of the kilt. She recovered her position now free from hazards. Scrutinising the tiny weapon in her hands under the light of Paddy’s phone,

“Aww, the crest is the world below a rainbow between two clouds. What does the motto say?”

“At Spes Infracta.”

“Oooh, you're getting the hang of these ancient tongues, aren’t you?” Bernie giggled, “what does it mean in boring old English?”

Paddy, who had been laughing with her, fell serious.

“It means Yet My Hope is Unbroken.” He gently tipped her chin forward with his thumb and forefinger and kissed her.

“That’s beautiful.” Bernie caught her breath. “What was your mam’s maiden name?”

“Hope.”

“Home and Hope,” smiled Bernie, partly to herself.

Paddy reached inside his sporran and handed Bernie a small tartan box with a gold bow on top.

“But this was my present.” She smiled, pulling on his shirt strings.

Paddy shone his phone torch on the box as Bernie opened it and carefully took out a silver brooch. She got hold of Paddy’s hand and shone it on a silver V bending inwards to make the shape of a heart with an emerald at the base just below the Home clan crest.

“That is a very fierce looking lion, why am I not surprised.” Bernie didn’t need the torch to see the glint in Paddy’s eye as he spoke. “I nearly got you the Hope rainbow one instead....but I wasn’t sure.”

Bernie smiled, “Maybe next year?”

“You are still very presumptuous after all these years. This was a one night only kinda thing,” Paddy choked, then swiftly changing the subject, “I liked the motto on the Hume crest, anyway.”

Bernie was impressed with his correct Scottish pronunciation of Home. She read aloud the words around the lion's head A Home, A Home, A Home, that is the slogan, but the motto is actually True To The End .”

“Well, I think the matriarchy has it tonight.”

“Do you know Robbie Burns was a great supporter of women's rights as well as being a romantic? He wrote a poem about it.”

“From what I’ve heard, he was very fond of women indeed. Counting the number of children he fathered.”

“Yes, that as well,” muttered Bernie, “but just for tonight I am going to be Shelagh Bernadette Mannion-Home and you can be Patrick Turner-Hope.

The traditional music of the Corries was now interspersed with more recent Scottish poetry, as the band played tunes by the likes of Travis and Franz Ferdinand. The Proclaimers, I’m Gonna Be 500 miles, filtered through the door leading to the beer garden. The accompanying laughter, the sound of leather and man-made sole stomping on polished oak convinced the two in the beer garden they weren’t being missed.

“One thing I can’t get my head around is how Val convinced you to do this?”

“She just reminded me of every time you have stepped out of your comfort zone for me. How many times you have had to embrace a part of yourself that you didn’t know existed or had thought you had left behind.”

Bernie rubbed her thumb over the slogan on her new brooch as Paddy continued.

“Basically how many times you have put me, us, our hope of a life, a home together before the person who you thought you were and believed yourself to be.”

“Val said that?”

“Sort of, maybe a bit more colourful and there was some violence involved, but I did agree with the sentiment.”

“I think our mams would have approved of Val.”

“Are you true to the end, Shelagh Bernadette?”

“Well, you just better hope this isn’t the end, Patrick.”

The sounds of Auld Lang Syne filled the night and Paddy leaned forward for another kiss, suddenly aware Bernie had very cold hands and had chosen not to replace the kilt pin.

#call the midwife #berns night revisited #to be continued #soon hopefully #home and hope #bless them

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softlass27 · 4 years

Text

Robert Week 2020 Day 3: Family A family dinner goes awry when revelations about the Sugden brothers' past come to light.

FYI, this is set in a slightly AU version of husbands era where Andy returned at some point and is living in Emmerdale again (I brought Adam back too, because why not).

Also, this fic refers to an old storyline that I must have watched but have no real memory of, considering how long ago it aired. So I've had to rely on gifsets and the Emmerdale Wiki, which you can see here:

https://emmerdale.fandom.com/wiki/Stephen_Butler https://isabellaofparma.tumblr.com/post/176241877331 https://robsugdens.tumblr.com/post/176241303211/i-didnt-have-it-easy

On a warm Saturday evening in August, the Sugdens and their other halves all gather round Diane’s table for their tea. Family time still isn’t a particularly common occurrence for them, but Diane and Victoria insist on it every now and then, and they mostly manage to get through the odd meal without any drama these days.

So as Aaron sits in his usual spot next to Robert and Seb, he doesn’t expect much more from the next couple of hours than some small talk with his in-laws over homemade shepherd’s pie and apple crumble.

Andy and Victoria are both in a nostalgic mood, it seems, tossing childhood memories back and forth as they eat. Nothing too heavy, thankfully, just funny – mostly farming-related – anecdotes from their youth.

At least, Andy, Vic, Diane and Doug seem to find them funny. Adam smiles and laughs easily along with them, but Aaron’s mostly left nonplussed. Honestly, the only thing getting him through it is the eye roll and small kill-me-now grin Robert shoots him whenever they catch each other’s eye. Aaron’s husband is clearly just as bored by the farm talk as he is, only chiming in when someone addresses him directly.

How many stories can you possibly tell about runaway cows, anyway?

As the first hour drags by and some of them start helping themselves to seconds, talk turns to Butlers farm and how the Sugdens had come to take it over back in the day.

“Who were the actual Butlers, anyway?” Adam asks, shovelling a forkful of mashed potato in his mouth. “Don’t think my mum ever said when we moved in there.”

“Just a bloke who was getting too old to keep up with things,” Andy replies with a shrug. “Will or Wilf, I think. And he had a son, too, about our age, right Rob?”

Robert nods as he wipes Seb’s mouth (he’s going through an incredibly messy phase of insisting on feeding himself) but doesn’t add anything.

“Drawing a blank on his name, though – ”

“Steve,” Robert interrupts quietly, turning back to his plate.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” Andy snaps his fingers as the memory comes back to him. “Steve… dunno what happened to him. We were mates for a bit but he moved away in the end. We’d fallen out, can’t remember why but – ”

Robert’s scoff cuts Andy off. Everyone pauses and turns to him as he finally lifts his head to stare at a confused-looking Andy.

“What?”

“Are you kidding me?” Robert asks incredulously.

Victoria tenses and glances warily between the two of them. “What’s the matter, Robert?”

“Yeah, what’s your problem?” Andy says with a frown.

“You seriously don’t remember what happened with Steve?”

“No… ” Andy’s bewilderment is quickly turning to annoyance. “Who cares, it was like, a million years ago. Do you remember everyone you fell out with when we were kids? Saying that, it’d be a pretty long list for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Boys, come on now,” Doug rumbles quietly. “Let’s not spoil the evening.”

Robert stays silent, but Aaron can see he’s biting the inside of his jaw. A telltale sign that he’s upset but trying to keep it together. He rests a hand on Robert's tense thigh under the table, ready to jump in to his defence if needed.

“Well, share with the class,” Andy drawls, ignoring Doug’s words with the beginnings of a smirk. Aaron has no idea what this is about, but he wants to punch it off his face. “What was it, then?”

Robert hesitates, eyes darting to Seb – who’s thankfully still oblivious to the tension – before shaking his head and stabbing at his food with his fork.

“What, nothin’ to say?”

“No.”

“Maybe we should just change the – ” Diane begins, but Andy speaks over her.

“No, come on, he’s started now. Spit it out, Rob, whatever it is that's got your back up.”

“I said no.”

No one else at the table would have caught it, but Aaron hears the wobble in Robert’s voice. He tightens the hand on his husband's thigh, trying to keep him calm, remind him that he's not alone at the table.

“What d’you bring it up for, then?” Andy isn’t taking no for an answer, apparently, and he’s starting to get on Aaron’s last nerve. “God, you always do this, always have to turn everything into some big drama, don't you? Come on, what was it that was so bad that – ”

“You found out Steve was gay,” Robert cuts Andy off, voice low but unmistakably clear.

Silence rings over the table as everyone freezes on the spot. Adam’s fork hovers in the air for a moment, before he sets it back on the plate with a clatter.

“Or, you heard rumours that he was gay, from that Ali kid. I dunno if he actually was, but that was good enough for you. You heard the rumours, you believed them – started passing them on to other people too, if I remember right – and after that, you wanted nothing to do with him.”

Aaron’s heart is thumping loudly in his chest, a familiar anger and defensiveness – for Robert, for himself, for this Steve kid – surging through him like wildfire. He watches Andy open his mouth uncertainly before closing it again, the irritation vanished from his face and replaced with shock. He looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“I asked you what the big deal was, why you cared so much if Steve was gay,” Robert continues with an air of apparent nonchalance, though Aaron knows better than to fall for the act, he knows Robert's fuming. Hurting.

“You said he shouldn’t have kept it hidden from everyone, you had a right to know what sort of person you’d been hanging out with. You were also very keen to make sure everyone else knew that just because you’d spent time with him, that didn’t make you ‘queer’, as you put it.”

Diane and Doug both look on uncomfortably, while Victoria brings a hand to her mouth in shock.

“Andy, you didn’t… ” she whispers with wide eyes. Adam lays a hand on her shoulder, looking almost as taken aback by the situation as her.

“I… ” Andy flounders helplessly, head whipping to his sister then back to Robert.

“Steve ended up moving away from the village in the end,” Robert finishes, pushing his plate away and tossing his napkin on to the table. “I guess all the shit he got over it – the name-calling and bullying – became too much for him to cope with, so he got the hell out of there. And no one ever mentioned him again.”

“Robert… ”

“Any of this ringing any bells for you, Andy?”

Andy gulps loudly before giving the slightest of nods.

“I – I forgot.”

“That’s nice for you,” Robert lets out a hollow laugh, before abruptly pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “Sorry Diane, dinner’s been great but I don’t really fancy pudding. Lost my appetite.”

He scoops Seb out of his high chair and strides out of the room with a backward glance. Aaron rises quickly, muttering his thanks to Diane for the meal and following him, only stopping to throw a hard glare back in Andy’s direction. When Andy’s eyes meet his, he cringes and shrinks back in his seat.

Good.

“S’been a while since I’ve sat in on some proper Sugden drama,” Aaron say lightly, passing Robert a brew and Seb his sippy cup of juice.

Robert lets out a small huff but doesn’t speak, silently watching Seb playing with his toy cars on the rug. He hasn’t said much of anything since they left Diane’s and Aaron hasn’t pushed him. Not until now, anyway.

Careful not to spill their teas, he sinks onto the sofa and nudges Robert gently, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. Robert glances at him before sighing heavily.

“Probably gonna get an earful off Diane later,” he eventually mutters. “Causin’ a scene, spoiling a family meal again.”

“Somehow I don’t think she’ll blame you for this one. And if she does, she’ll have me to deal with.”

That gets him a tiny smile, at least.

“Gonna tell her off, are you?”

“I ain’t scared of her.”

Robert chuckles and leans into him, taking a slow sip of his tea. They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, before Robert begins to speak.

“I know Andy doesn’t have a problem with me, with you and me. I know he doesn’t think like that anymore, I wouldn’t speak to him if he did,” he says quietly. “We were just kids, and kids can be idiots, I get it. It’s just – it’s the fact that he didn’t even remember. To him it was clearly just a stupid bit of teenage drama, it didn’t mean anything. He probably never even gave it a second thought after Steve was gone. Whereas I… ”

Robert trails off, blinking rapidly and looking frustrated. Aaron reaches over to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently. As out and proud as his husband is now, it's still difficult for him to talk about his sexuality sometimes, about all the time he spent in hiding it.

“That day,” Robert eventually continues. “When Andy said all that stuff about not wanting to hang out with Steve anymore, I thought I was gonna be sick there and then. The way he acted like it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard… I don’t think I got a wink of sleep that night. I just lay there in bed, picturing Andy’s face if he ever found out about – about me. If he knew what Dad knew.”

He sets his mug down and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It wasn’t like I’d been about to come out or anything, this was a couple of years after Dad… you know.”

Aaron nods wordlessly, feeling the hatred he’d carried for Jack Sugden ever since he learnt about that day bubble rapidly to the surface.

“I’d already buried the fact that I liked boys, I'd decided I was just gonna pretend it wasn’t there. But – but hearing Andy say all that stuff about Steve, the way he reacted to even the possibility that his mate was… It was like like the final nail in the coffin, y’know?” Robert’s bottom lip wobbles as he shakes his head, sounding so resigned.

“I knew then, that I could never tell him. Or my friends, or anyone in this stupid village. Any hope I’d had, deep down, that being myself might be... I don’t know, not accepted but… tolerated, maybe? It pretty much died that day.”

Sometimes, Aaron is reminded of just how drastically things in Emmerdale have changed in recent times. His adolescence and Robert’s were only a few years apart; on paper the time seems like nothing. But the reality is that in terms of mindset and attitude, things couldn’t have been more different for the two of them.

He remembers the fear, the absolute terror of others finding out the truth about him all too well. But once he was out, once the dust settled and everyone knew… apart from the odd snide comment from some tosser he didn’t even know, people were fine with it. His family, Victoria, Adam, Ryan, Holly… none of them cared, no one saw him any differently. If anything, he became closer to nearly every person around him.

The fact that Robert not only believed that the opposite would happen to him, but basically had actual confirmation of it played out right before his eyes, breaks Aaron's heart.

He puts down his own mug so he can pull Robert into him and tuck him under his chin, Robert’s arms circling his waist as he buries his face into Aaron's chest.

“I love you,” he murmurs into his husband’s hair, hands stroking softly. “You deserved better.”

Robert clutches him tighter.

Later that night, Adam texts him while Robert’s in the shower.

so that was fun

Aaron readjusts a sleepy Seb in his lap so he can reply.

What happened after we left? Andy say anything?

not much. diane and vic gave him an earful, he left pretty sharpish. looked proper ashamed of himself too. vic’s been going spare ever since, i’ve had to stop her from going to yours 3 times. u both ok?

We’re fine. Tell Vic that Rob’s alright, I’ve got him

will do. night mate

“Well, you’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” Is the only thing Aaron says when he opens the front door to Andy the next morning, folding his arms across his chest.

Andy shuffles awkwardly on the welcome mat, a hand coming up to scratch his bushy beard.

“Is Robert here?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t step aside to let Andy in. When Andy realises that Aaron isn’t budging, he sighs heavily, shoulders slumped.

“Look Aaron, I uh… ” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry."

“Not me you need to apologise to.”

“No, I know, but I just wanted to say that I was a right idiot back then, really stupid. Ignorant. And I’m – I’m not proud of it, but I don’t want you thinking I’m still like that because – ”

“I don’t think you’re like that,” Aaron cuts him off.

“…Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t still be standing here if I did.”

Andy pauses and blinks, face twisting nervously.

“Right, well uh… good, I’m glad. So… can I…?” He gestures to the inside of the house.

“Wait here.”

He closes the door in Andy’s face (not exactly necessary, but he takes some petty pleasure in it) and walks through the living room to the back door, stepping out into bright sunshine and the sound of splashing and laughter.

Seb’s playing in his paddling pool in the garden, happy as a clam, while Robert sprawls on the grass beside it, occasionally passing him one of the bath toys they’d brought down to the garden. The front of his t-shirt is absolutely drenched.

“Alright?” He asks as Aaron approaches.

“Andy’s here. Asking for you.”

Robert stiffens, grin dropping off his face.

“Want me to send him packing?”

There’s a long pause, before Robert sighs and shakes his head. “No… suppose he can come through.”

Aaron returns to the front door and beckons Andy, leading him to the back garden.

“Andy!” Seb cries when he spots them. “Pool!”

“Wow, look at this!” Andy calls as he steps closer. For all his and Robert's issues, he adores Seb. “You havin’ fun, mate?”

Seb nods vigorously, his damp sunhat bouncing on his head as he smacks his hands into the water. Robert tilts his head up to stare at Andy.

“Alright?” Andy tries for a hopeful smile, which Robert doesn’t return, instead refocusing his gaze on Seb.

“Can we have a quick chat?”

Robert passes Seb a rubber duck.

“Rob, come on,” Andy pleads, looking down at him imploringly.

Robert rolls his eyes, before pushing himself up and wiping his palms on his shorts.

“Can you – ?” He asks Aaron, gesturing to Seb.

“Course.” Aaron gives Robert’s wrist a brief squeeze as he passes him, before settling down next to the paddling pool, flicking some water in Seb’s face to make him laugh.

As he plays with his son, he keeps an eye on the two brothers, watching as they walk to the deckchairs at other end of the garden, sitting sideways on them so they’re facing each other.

Aaron can’t make out exactly what’s being said, not over the sound of Seb’s splashing and yelling, but neither of them look angry, which is a good sign. He just hopes Jack’s name doesn’t come up, otherwise that could all change in a heartbeat.

Andy’s doing most of the talking, elbows resting on his bouncing knees as he leans towards Robert. The expression on his face is uncomfortable but earnest, as he offers what is clearly an apology – Aaron doesn’t need to hear them to know that much. It makes a change; Aaron’s never known anyone so keen to deny any wrongdoing as Andy Sugden – especially when it comes to Robert and their childhood.

Robert keeps his face blank, sitting ramrod straight and staring somewhere past Andy’s shoulder as he listens. But as Andy continues speaking, his face begins softens a little and he eventually begins talking back quietly. Andy fidgets and looks down, but he doesn’t interrupt except to nod occasionally, replying only when Robert finishes speaking. It’s probably the most the Sugden brothers have communicated in years.

Aaron wishes he could lipread. Or that he had a slightly quieter child.

“Daddy!” Seb cries for his attention, hitting him in the chest with a plastic bucket.

“Oh, sorry mate, did you want a shower?” He fills the bucket with water and tips it all over Seb’s head until every inch of him is dripping, causing him to shriek loudly.

“That’s what you get,” Aaron laughs at the indignant expression on his son’s face, before glancing up to see Robert and Andy have stopped talking in favour of watching the scene fondly.

Andy stands and stretches. “I should get going, then,” he says to Robert, who stands to follow him.

“Stay for a bit if you like? We’ve got lemonade in the fridge, lots of ice.”

“Nah, you’re alright. I’m taking Sarah shopping soon,” he claps Robert on the shoulder. “Another time, though?”

“Okay, yeah.”

“I’ll see myself out.” Andy leans down to tickle Seb under the chin. “Enjoy your pool, Seb.”

He starts walking across the grass, before pausing and turning back to them.

“Rob?”

“Yeah?”

“You – you’re my brother,” Andy chews his lip, looking serious. “My family. Family’s supposed to rely on each other, and I made you feel like you couldn’t. I really am sorry.”

There’s a long silence as Robert stares at him, unmoving. For a moment, Aaron thinks he isn’t going to say anything back, and then –

“S’okay, Andy. It’s forgotten.”

“Okay,” Andy nods, sounding relieved. “Oh, and please let Vic know that I’ve spoken to you, will you? Before she castrates me.”

Robert’s mouth twitches. “Can’t have that. I’ll let her know.”

“Cheers. See you, Rob. Aaron.”

Andy takes his leave, shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing around the corner of the house.

Robert sinks down onto the grass next to Aaron and lets out a long breath.

“Okay?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Robert smiles and presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m fine. We talked, it was good.”

That’s probably the most Aaron’s going to get out of him, for now at least, so he smiles back and snakes an arm around his waist. If Robert’s good, then he’s good.

“D’you want me to get the drinks from the – hey!” Robert splutters when he’s cut off by Seb chucking a bucketful of water in his face, giggling madly when he hits his target with impressive accuracy.

“Good aim, kid,” Aaron grins, ruffling Seb’s soaked hair.

#robertweek2020 #sugden brothers #robron #ALL THE FEELS #my writing

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sussex-nature-lover · 3 years

Text

Wednesday 13th January 2021

Entomology Anyone?

Entomology is the study of insects and their relationship to humans, the environment, and other organisms. Entomologists make great contributions to such diverse fields as agriculture, chemistry, biology, human/animal health, molecular science, criminology, and forensics

Author’s Note: no photographs of Spiders are included in this Blog and a warning will be given if links are likely to include any. Links will be safe to click through in the first instance

It’s great when the workers’ rights are championed

We saw this sign closing off a path around Sissinghurst Castle Gardens (see tab under the main Blog header for more info on National Trust properties)

And some time ago after climbing the renovated Tower, as seen below, I was charmed to spot a Ladybird, After all it was only March (2019)

Ladybird on the new shingles at the top of the Tower - see below. The shingles are hand carved from Oak as were the originals

On closer inspection, I’m assuming because of the number of spots, that this is the aggressive non-native Harlequin Ladybird, only in the UK since 2004, but now rampant. You can’t see the white triangle on its head from this angle, but the sheer number of spots suggests so.

Ladybird ID Guide

I found a really nice blog which will be of interest to Gardeners, called Pot to Pen and the author, Robyn, wrote at the time about the restoration work on the Tower, it’s well worth a look.

Not all bugs are quite as cute as a Ladybird, even the invasive ones. Don’t ask me why, but anything green and bug like always gets called Wilf in our house and when this one hitch-hiked on the mower, I had to look it up.

The Great Green Bush Cricket aka Tettigonia Veridissima

Apparently they’re common in this part of the country and they don’t stop at jumping on board local transport. This one was on our bathroom wall one evening. I didn’t know it at the time, but the link says they can nip (they didn’t though)

Oooh funny, Crow’s just seen the pics on my screen and said ‘is that that Wilf-thing?’ There you go, proved I don’t just make all this stuff up off the top of my head.

We’ve never lived anywhere where we’ve had so many creatures invading the house. Then again we never lived anywhere quite so rural before. Some of the things we’ve seen have been just beautiful like this

White Ermine Moth aka Spilosoma lubricipeda

and this Broad Bodied Chaser in the garden

As you can imagine, I have no idea what all these things are - every day I marvel at having the internet at our disposal, although I never did establish what the snake was that we found underneath our stairs when all the doors and windows had been closed. I’m ashamed to say that rather base instinct kicked in and we evicted it with the aid of a pond dipping net (EVERY home should have one) and a very long handled sheepskin duster (ditto) With hindsight we really should’ve found something safe to put it in and done some investigation before setting it loose and these days we’d run for the camera first before anything. We’ve had Grass Snake in the garden, specifically in the grass compost heap where it was nice and warm. And we’ve encountered Adder up in the fields when we’ve been walking, so we could discount them.

At the time we’d had a few items of wooden furniture delivered, made in Indonesia or somewhere and I think I panicked that it was something weird that had come over hidden in that - unlikely I know, but not beyond the realms of possibility.

With the benefit of hindsight, perhaps it was actually just a rather large Slowworm Too late now, but I sincerely hope so.

Regardless of species, how it ended up where it was indoors is anybody’s guess. I’ve digressed again. This is supposed to be about insects and the reason I was inspired to write on that topic today was seeing a Tweet.

The National Insect Week Twitter account is always active despite Insect Week being a two yearly event and not taking place again until June 2022. They were promoting Manchester Museum’s free virtual exhibition.

* Arachnophobes: link safe to click to first page (only one mention of the word but no illustration) beyond that BEWARE.

Manchester’s own site quotes

“If we and the rest of the back-boned animals were to disappear overnight, the rest of the world would get on pretty well. But if the invertebrates were to disappear, the world’s ecosystems would collapse.”

Sir David Attenborough

Once I’d mentioned insects, Crow was on the lookout and saw a couple of mentions of Beetles on a nature account he follows. There was a particularly nice photo of the Violet Ground Beetle and then coincidentally he read about the £367M Dung Beetle and how it helps British farming, which I had been looking at as well. And strangely, bear with me, it linked to another topic.

Years back I’d had a little bit of a frosty run-in with a nearish neighbour. We were experiencing a problem with very large Hornets and there was a lot of press at the time about their impact on the Bee, particularly Honey Bee, population. We were not at all keen to share our home with these fearsome creatures, whereas the neighbour strongly objected to their eradication and insisted they are not a threat.

This one was found dead on our hearth,

Anyway, the neighbour moved away and I hope she took her Hornets with her.

It’s topical though, the health of and the threats to. our Bee population and some of that arises from the forthcoming parliamentary debate on relaxing an EU ban on pesticide.

Screenshot below via Twitter

Although according to this article last year, a ruling isn’t always a ruling, a ban isn’t always a ban.

I was also looking at this from Twitter The pesticide debate from a Farmer’s point of view...an experiment with natural predators.

BBC Sounds for Farming Today.

We started our own benign neglect effort last year and let’s face it, if doing good takes absolutely zero effort, we can all do our bit. Actually our lawns are more meadow than show pieces, so we always do our bit.

It’s marvellous how nature evolves. I’ve always had a slight interest in the back of my mind about gardening in accordance with the phases of the Moon and in symbiotic relationships in nature (including man’s) not in a hippy kind of way, in a let’s see if it works and let’s be as natural as we can way. To which end, I loved this article - Bees’ Natural Pesticide - Bees Use Poo and it’s made me feel all the more protective towards our Bees and it wraps up the beginning and end of today’s thoughts quite neatly.

What Have I Learned Today?

Everything above and the Basis for some cracking home school lessons

Link The learning resources can be filtered from age Early Years through to Adult and by topic Here

There are videos, activity suggestions, partner links, photography tips and crafts, so something for everyone. Don’t be shy, tell your friends.

Apart from screenshots, all photos today my own.

#nature naturephotography bees insects gardening England countryside

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nat-20s · 5 years

Note

Please, tell me more about Donna’s “Wild Past Before Doctor” I, like you, can spend all my time discussing these two dumbasses til my dying breath

Listen LISTEN Donna was not a chaotic smart dumbass because she was friends with ten, she was friends with ten because she was ALREADY a chaotic smart dumbass. She snuck onto a train to Scotland at age SIX like what do you expect her to do? be boring? i have to laugh

Some things I personally think Donna did pre-doctor:

-got really into “urban exploring” (fancy trespassing) for like three months and thus has been to SO MANY haunted locations

-stole her mum’s car at age 13 to get some chicken nuggets

-glitter bombed a church and thus has been banned for life

-gotten about halfway through 3 different bachelors before getting bored and deciding this was not for her

-successfully hid a pet mouse in her dorm room for a year and a half

-once bought ducks from a farm off of craigs list and snuck them into a movie theater for the express purpose of getting a photo with the theme of “getting your ducks into a row”

-placed a brick in one of the back doors of a planetarium on a school trip so that she could later sneak into said planetarium after hours. got a stern talking to by a night security guard, but also got surprisingly far into playing with the controls before she got caught

-gone on SO MANY road trips

-Got her actual scuba diving certification only to immediately go underwater cave diving, which you need a separate set of classes for

-has not used the Buddy system on many occasions that she was supposed to use the buddy system

-such as underwater cave diving

-had 4 distinct near death experiences that she is aware of

-helped smuggle an incredibly tiny wiener dog into a birthday party at an amusement park

-was an employee of said amusement park

-had many brushes with aliens without knowing it, including a blind date. it was FAR from the worst first date she’s ever had

-gotten arrested for disturbing the peace at a bachelorette party

-been actually fired on 6 occasions: 4 times for mouthing off at the boss, 1 time due to genuinely fucking up the job, and once on a bet to see just how much she could get away with

-took a tourist trap tour of the usa, specifically hitting only the tackiest of locations. The kind of museums that cost 4 bucks to get into, ya know?

-spent an entire night with every book of spells she could find in the library trying to perform witchcraft because hey at least it was something to do

-had a temp job as a ghost tour host. told a group of teenagers about how she made up SOOOO much shit. Did meet one ghost during her stint, but it was during her commute rather than on the job

-got an entire bar on new year’s to sing auld lang syne, but instead of lyrics was just “blah blah blah blah BLAH blaaah blah blah”

- set off professional fireworks during a camping trip

-dumped rocket fuel into the camp fire on the same trip

-drowned a minivans engine trying to drive through three feet of water on the SAME TRIP

-entered a blood pact with Nerys such that if any of them try to actually end the contentious friendship it will result in mutually assured destruction

-acquired a fake ID at age 16 not to get drunk but instead to adopt a cat without her mum’s permission. She named it “Wilf 2″ :)

#lovely-little-bubbly-bitch #donna noble #replies #nat talks doctor who

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gurguliare · 7 years

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this is just a compilation of pip’s 7 seeds reactions so far, it’s very worth it

Pip: Omg the winter ot3. Poor babies Gogol: they're so... ott but... it's cute i guess.... Pip: STRIKING YOUR BALL WAS MY DREAM Pip: I'm so happy that they are all dating each other Pip: Holy shit I can't believe they fridged Mitsuru Pip: Fridged her in the open air Gogol: a crane in the crisper pip: This poor guy is losing love interests left and right pip: But yeah this is stupid Gogol: the only upside is their ghosts are kind of cute pip: ...lol pip: Omfg puppies Gogol: I Will Name These Dogs After My First Threesome

pip: hey wanna hear a joke pip: 3 horrid children a mutant llama and 6 dozen kiwi pip: birds walk into a boat Gogol: hmm? Gogol: OH I FORGOT THE FUCKING, CAROL pip: carol. Gogol: CAROL! pip: the moron bird. and carol pip: carol, my favorite character Gogol: i love carol. i love animal friends pip: shes so beautyful pip: this is my favorite episode of the future is wilf pip: wild. pip: wildlife id like to fuck is not. what i was going for there pip: carol and i dont have that kind of relationship Gogol: .... Gogol: wilf is bad. i empathize though

pip: i love koruri i m so sad she didnt get to commit all the teachermurder she wanted to Gogol: SAME Gogol: SHE DESERVED IT SO MUCH Gogol: COME ON WOULD IT HAVE HURT TO LET HER HAVE ONE Gogol: A LITTLE HEALTHY ONE pip: RIGHT pip: PICK ONE OFF THE BACK OF THE HERD! pip: mmm i love these sociopaths pip: i love the fucking "no listen these unnecessary hardships will make GREAT ways to form Strong Human Adults, i mean, LOOK AT ME" Gogol: y e s Gogol: [me: a shrike's humansona, probably] pip: I WAS FORCED TO CANNIBALIZE MY OWN PARENTS OR SOMETHING AND NOW LOOK AT ME! I RUN A EUGENICS DEATH CAMP FOR CHILDREN AND LARGE PARTS OF THIS SECTION ARE BLATANT SWEENEY TODD KNOCKOFFS. pip: I TURNED OUT FINE! Gogol: yes! he's so well-equipped for the future!

pip: also gogol i want to know why i had to read so much ventriloquist sadstuck. pip: why was that. Gogol: I Could Not Tell You Gogol: i can't believe maria slept with him i... i mean i pip: that was bad and there was so much of it, oh god Gogol: i'm happy for them, but also pip: gkjsfksfd pip: y...es pip: everyone else was more interesgingg pip: Fake President, Baseball pip: the dog, pip: THE DEATH YEERKS, Gogol: omg i thought of you when the cow went crazy first after being fed human corpses because i was like OH, PRIONS but Gogol: ... Gogol: that's not actually how prions work Gogol: i still feel like it was a weird misdirect though pip: NO SAME I ALSO pip: i mean it ended up being very NEVER FEED A COW HUMAN REMAINS so like pip: i feel like that also counts in some way pip: even if for some godawful reason the author was like... prions... no........ TICKS pip: thanks! it's bad. Gogol: yes i was disappointed bc i really wanted it to be, you know ... Gogol: ... Gogol: just that much more explicitly "feeding your cow human remains is a dumb plan, actually" pip: me too :( Gogol: "your plan sucked, actually" pip: that also seems like a much better like Aesop'spocalypse Doom Moral as well Gogol: right pip: than like "britney spears has ticks" pip: the most realistic part of that arc is the teens killing everyone bc theyre bored and got their hands on a cordless drill pip: also "we screened everyone for smoking but they STARTED smoking???" mmm i have bad news for you about humans Gogol: YES Gogol: god the fucking... screenings.... pip: very very realistic. pip: right pip: my favorite is when they just are like... pip: ... pip: 'aw man be sure to pick up someone who makes good ramen' pip: honestly it's like they were just making a shit grocery list pip: and kept adding on things to the end of it pip: like it started out "broccoli, spinach" Gogol: LIKE... WHY IS ... WHY "a painter" Gogol: "a pianist" Gogol: "a hair stylist" pip: but then by the time theyve got to the bottom its like "novelty birthday candles" Gogol: yes Gogol: they only came up with ten actual foods Gogol: i mean, you can eat candles pip: RIGHT and my other fave thing is that some of the novelty birthday candles just ARE THE PPL WHO THEY SHOULD HAVE GOT TO BEGIN WITH pip: "idk, farm girl i guess" pip: "maybe more than one of those?" "NAH" pip: very bad. never let goverment men do anything or rich people. pip: i think my favorite thing about the artists though is how even though OBVIOUSLY THE PERSON WHO MAKES THIS MANGA IS IN FACT AN ARTIST when faced with "what do artists do, fundamentally, what would an artist's Job be, in a civilization like this" the answer is just... . . . c....cave painting graffiti ? pip: Haru Found A Stick! Gogol: HARU CAN ECHOLOCATE NOW Gogol: SIGNED, YUMI TAMURA

#7 seeds #pipistrellus #i love you babe i hope the stupidity of reading apocalypse manga at this point in time was swiftly drowned out by the stupidity of the teens #held within it #if you follow me.

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thalankycaver · 4 years

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NCHECC

Always a good weekend, but this year with a twist... I was driving! I picked up the bus and met the Musc lot at stores. A quick (sorry speed cameras) drive later, we were up at the farm. It was quite quiet so we got bunks. People started trickling in, and the pints went down easy. I found out Nathan, Jethro, and Tom were planning a traverse and jumped on the chance to join them. I turned in for the night, and rescued myself for the trip.

The next morning I awoke and had a quick breakfast. There was a short faff and then we were off to the cave. A brisk walk got us there, and I was first into the cave. Top sink was fairly dry, and we made it to the first pitch quickly. We avoided the deviation, and I was second down. Halfway down I noticed one side of the pullthrough didn’t reach the floor, so I tied the spare rope to it and carried on down. The next pitch came quickly and then the SRT kits got taken off. The next bit was fairly easy, with various ways through to limerick junction. From there we went up into Nagasaki, and through to the Easter grotto climbs. As stomp along the streamway to stop pot followed, and up into the upper series. It was here that the booze caught up to me and I decided I’d go out lancs instead. I plodded through the upper level to stake pot and climbed down to the stream to avoid overheating. Clambered back up at Fall pot, and ran into a group from ULSA. Sat for a minute then headed out. Met the Birmingham and Liverpool lot at the bottom of lancs, then ran up the rope to meet Rio, who had bottled it and needed a poo. We wandered back to the hut and I went for a nap. More drinks that evening.

Woke up and decided not to cave on Sunday. Then I looked out the window and decided I did want to cave. So I got a MUSC group (Julia, Vincent, Levi, and Alex) together and off to lancs we went. I was first down and waited while all the others descended. Then it was off towards fall pot, but then up into Wilf Taylor’s instead. Alex struggled a little with a tight corner, but made it through alright. Then there was some pretty crawling, until we met the water coming from bull pot of the witches. From there we went down Wilf Taylor’s, singing merrily. I fell in a pool and moaned about it. Then we got down to the streamway. I say streamway, it was more of a lake. Water was very high, but slow moving. After a few minutes deliberation, and Alex jumping in to test it, we decided to bite the bullet and run up to fall pot. Off we waded, nice and cold. We got to fall pot and clambered our, wet and bedraggled. A hasty pace was had up to lancs, and we found Leo and Emmot comings down. There were two ropes rigged so we tandemed out, a very fast and efficient trip. All in all, a fun weekend.

#speleology #caving #mytrips

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weshallc · 4 years

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This is so exciting, can’t wait to see what happens next! (No, I honestly do forget)

Berns Night (Revisited) 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Call the Midwife AU (Crown Jewels, everyone but Paddy and Bernie at Mount Busby)

Chapter Three: OF MICE AND MEN

“The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men. Gang aft agley. An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain. For promis’d joy!” To A Mouse by Robert Burns 1785.

“Liars and Lovers Combine Tonight, We’re Gonna Make A Scene.” The Captain by Biffy Clyro 2009.

The largest reception room at Mount Busby Farm would have once been very grand, with Queen Anne furniture and Regency coffee tables. The only thing that remained unchanged was that the original fireplace still gave up warmth and light provided by nature, and the windows let in the light from the same star constellations and the same moon.

The Two Loves preferred antique furniture of a later period and in their 80s comfort was paramount. The room was stocked with love seats, chesterfields, recliners. bean bags, generous cushions, and a rather charming gold settee that suspiciously looked pre-war. Just no one was sure which war. Everyone mocked it, but everyone fought to sit on it as it was very comfy. Patsy often talked about replacing it, but Delia wouldn’t hear of it. “You don’t throw your memories out with the rubbish and there are more memories than just ours hidden within these cushions, Cariad.” That was always the end of it.

The most current occupants of that particular settee to be making memories were Tim Turner and Lucille Anderson. Phyllis looked over at the awkward teen, who was no longer as awkward as he had once been. He sat comfortably chatting to his companion, both of them laughing at intervals. Lucille often finishing Tim’s sentences or him proclaiming, yep that’s it or knew you’d get it when they appeared to reach a level of understanding. Of course, when she asked the student nurse about her new friendship, she would just reply, brushing the older nurse off. “Oh, he is a dear boy; He makes me laugh.”

He was certainly doing that from where Matron Crane was sitting on a leather tan Whitworth dining chair, probably by Frank Hudson. Years of heavy lifting before the introduction of patient hoists and transfer boards had taken their toll on the matron’s back. It was why she had found herself in a more managerial role much earlier than she would have planned. She looked at Student Nurse Anderson and thought maybe the NHS was in more tender capable hands than the shitstirrers would have them believe.

“I am wondering if we should start,” youth minister Tom Hereward was on his feet. “I am not sure how long baby will sleep in a strange house.”

“I have been called many things in my time, but not sure strange is one of them,” laughed Delia.

“Oh, I have Deals, it’s fine,” reassured Patsy.

Tom turned pink. Trixie leaned over to him, “They are joking,” and sat back onto the giant purple pouffe she was sharing with Valerie. “I know, I live here. I have to put up with it all the time.”

“So. Erm who is in charge, who has the most authority here.” Tom was still trying to create some sense of order.

“Well, Julia is the vicar,” chirped in Bobby, trying to offer her husband some support.

“But this is not the church,” Rev Julia responded with a warm smile.

“Another shock there then, it’s all coming out tonight, Patsy.” Delia couldn’t help herself when she had an audience and a bottle of Prosecco was being passed round.

“Matron Crane is on the council,” Lucille reminded everyone.

“No, I don’t think that matters lass, it’s not a council matter.” Phyllis shook her head.

“Well, someone needs to take the lead,” Tom said with a hint of irritation.

“I will! On the authority that I am a young woman on her only night off of the week,” struck up Val, “but I have agreed to come here and discuss plans for Bernie’s birthday instead of having two for one sex on the beach.”

“It’s a cocktail, and its happy hour in the Fourteen Teacups on a Tuesday,” Trixie interpreted for everyone.

“That’s ambitious having a happy hour in the Teacups, isn’t it?” said Fred, who had managed to wedge himself into a deep red Chesterfield.

“Yeah, apparently Ursula gives you the right change, that’s why they call it happy hour,” Tim smirked.

“As I am representing the Crown. I will continue,” said Val and she did, “we want to put on a Burns Night for Bernie’s birthday like in the old days. Now Tim has told us Paddy is half Scottish.”

“Why isn’t he here?” asked Bobby.

“Well, he said it would look suspicious if he left Bernie on her tod behind the bar on a Tuesday night,” Vi explained sitting on a scarlet love seat next to Fred.

“Yep, in case our two Tuesday night regulars rush the bar at once,” snorted Val.

“I think it’s more that it would look suspicious if he actually just left Bernie alone for five minutes,” Trixie corrected.

Lucille felt Tim squirm in the seat beside her. She knew he thought the world of Bernie, but didn’t like to hear her relationship with his father discussed in public. This was inevitable being a small village with one pub, one church and two of the village's most popular inhabitants linked to both. She tried to ease his tension.

“I think it’s lovely, just shows as my grandma used to say there may be snow on the roof, but there is still fire in the grate.”

As everyone surrendered to laughter, Matron shared a smile with the vicar, both of them confirming Lucille might be familiar with the saying, but maybe not its meaning.

Delia was the first to keep a straight face, “But they are only bairns, wait until they are mine and Pats age then the fire may need a little bit of stoking.”

“Yes, Deals, but remember we have never required the use of a poker.”

Val swiftly continued, “Paddy doesn’t wish to be involved.”

“Why?” Reggie asked, perched on his wooden stool.

Val motioned towards Tim, who was still recovering from the last topic of conversation.

“Because it would look ridiculous, his words not mine.” Tim continued, “and I quote, Wilf had the works, I would look like I was trying to pull a stunt to impress Bernie by looking like I was dressing in drag and taking the piss.”

Tim looked at his knees, and Lucille gave one a quick squeeze. She knew this wasn’t easy for him.

Everyone else also looked at their knees. The mood was solemn.

“We can all understand Paddy’s reasons.” There were a couple of nods and sighs in response. “But we aren’t putting up with any of that nonsense,” Val added with a grin.

This was met with a very large and unanimous cheer.

“Well, I’ve already looked up the Turner tartan,” Trixie handed an iPad over to Patsy via Val.

“That’s very smart,” approved the artist.

“Sorry I hate to throw a spanner in the works, but how are we going to afford all this?” butt in a pensive Vi.

“We’ve already thought of that,” grinned Delia, ”Mount Busby will cover the cost of the costume.”

“That’s very generous,” sniffed Evie, who had nearly dozed off in a leather recliner.

“Not really,” explained Patsy. “I have a friend that works for Kilts 4 U and they are very interested in looking into the possibility of making an alpaca lined sporran.”

This was news to Reggie who followed anything relating to his charges with great interest, “What’s a sporran?”

“It’s where he keeps his spare change,” Fred enlightened, or at least tried to.

“It’s the little purse that men wear at the front of the kilt, Reggie,” Violet elaborated. He seemed reassured by this.

“So anyway, in return for a few samples,” Patsy continued, “my friend will be happy to hire out the full regalia for the evening.”

“It’s not long now until Burns Night have you got some sort of prototype ready?” quizzed Evie.

“Lady K is working on them as we speak. She loves nothing better than fiddling with a bit of alpaca wool,” Delia replied gleefully.

“Lady K?” Phyllis queried.

“Yes, she is very creative,” reassured Trixie.

“I don’t doubt it, Trixie, but she is one of Bernie’s clients. What if the lass sees what she is up too”

“Don’t fret Phyllis,” Patsy interjected, “I find that Antonia is much less forgetful when she has an occupation to challenge her and I am certain she won’t let the cat out of its proverbial bag.”

Jack sat on the floor accidently banged his head against the fire surround he was leaning against, “Can’t imagine Berns thinking; oh look Lady K is sticking bits of alpaca wool to a man’s bag he hangs in front of his todger. That must be something to do with Paddy and my birthday”

Vi was quick to admonish Jack, but when even Tom started to laugh, she decided to let it go.

“What about the little knifey thing they keep in their sock that he stabs the Haggis with?” Fred was beginning to get excited.

“Sgian dubh,” corrected Vi.

“All part of the traditional dress,” Patsy added a tone to her voice to reassure everyone that she had thought of everything.

“So that’s the gear sorted. Me and Reggie are in charge of the beer. What else?” Fred’s eyes were wide, thinking they actually might be able to pull this off.

“Well, myself and Evie have created a menu, pretty much on the lines of what we used to do in Wilf’s day.” Violet opened a small notebook and put on her reading glasses.

Clearing her throat she read, “Cock-a-leekie soup, Scottish salmon and tattie scones or scotch egg for starters.”

“Cock a what?” shouted up Jack.

“Chicken and vegetable soup to you, young man. There will be a just vegetable option too.” Violet’s voice began to take on the air it adopted when addressing an audience. “Then we have the Haggis or vegan Haggis, neeps and tatties and a whisky sauce.”

“What about those that might not wish to partake in the Haggis?” Tom asked nervously, as he might.

Evie spoke up before Vi could respond. “There is always the Fourteen Teacups for the likes of those that don’t wish to have Haggis. It’s a Burns Night. If you don’t want Haggis, then stay at home and order in a pizza.”

“What’s for pudding?” Bobby struck up, squeezing her husband’s hand.

“Cranachan which is raspberries, cream, oats and whisky, or Clootie pudding with whisky sauce or whisky ice cream or a Scottish cheese board with oatcakes.”

Murmurs of approval were aimed in Violet’s direction.

“That’s a lot of whisky?” Lucille remarked.

Violet agreed, “Yes, we need just a house whisky for everyone for the toasts Val, I will leave that to you, but you need to pay the piper with a good quality malt.”

Silence broke out in the previously buzzing, over occupied living room.

“Piper!” Several people groaned at once.

Fred, who was not going to let anything get in the way of this Burn’s Night declared, “Look, we will just have to bung on a recording.” Turning to Tim and Jack, he said, “You lads look up the Red Hot Chilli Pipers on your phones.”

Tim reached for his phone, swiping the picture of Lucille and him with Alpaca Colin. But Lucille touched his hand, making him hesitate.

“I don’t think that would be very suitable, Mr Buckle going to all this trouble with such a delicious menu and Mr Turner all dressed up in the finest regalia and then having some squeaky din coming out of an iPhone.”

“Your right lass, it just won’t do,” supported Phyllis.

“Well, does anyone know a piper?” Fred replied wearily.

“Surely we can find a professional one online?” contributed Julia

“A professional piper that’s free on Burn’s Night at this late notice,” chided Phyllis.

“I know a piper.”

The voice came from the back of the room. Everyone turned to look at the slight dark-haired woman sat on a dining chair. “Well, I think we all do.”

“Do we, Jane?” Julia asked.

“Yes, the busker that stands outside the town hall in Appleby Thornton.”

Everyone started talking at once;

“I only go into town every second Tuesday to get my hair done.”

“Same here I only go through if I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Well, it’s the cost of the parking isn’t it, it’s free at Tweaven Retail Park and more shops.”

“You can get it on t’internet delivered to your door.”

“I haven’t been since Marks and Spencers closed.”

“Debenhams is closing next week such a shame, that shops older than me, always been a department store in Appleby Thornton.”

“It was one of the first in the country to have a lift, you know.”

Jane cleared her throat. “There are a lot of good things about Appleby Thornton that are not always obvious.”

“Here, here!” chimed in Val, “there is still a Primark.”

“Oh well, let’s be grateful for small mercies,” stung back Trixie.

Much to Delia’s disappointment, Val bit her lip. The ex-nurse and market gardener loved a full house. She cherished her quiet times with Patsy too, but she was the more sociable of the pair. The farm was large enough for Patsy to have her office and art studio and not be disturbed while Delia fussed the alpacas with Reggie. Trixie moving in had been Patsy’s scheme, but Delia was the one who had benefited most from their new project, even if she would never let their new employee know she was a project.

Delia enjoyed listening to Trixie’s anecdotes and gossip. She felt reconnected with a world that was moving so fast. The Two Loves were business women and technology hadn’t passed them by. It was the music, the celebrities, the trashy telly that Patsy despised and Delia loved that made having Trixie and her friends around delight Delia.

Delia’s carer probably wasn’t as up-to-date with pop culture as Trixie and her friend. Val was now a frequent visitor to Mount Busby, as she and their new lodger had struck up quite a friendship. Nurse Bernie always looked a bit behind the door when the other two were in full flow about some reality TV show.

But since Trixie had moved in, Nurse made Delia’s blood pressure check the last visit on her rounds and she drank tea, sitting and chatting with Trixie. Bernie didn’t need to watch Love Island. She had her own romantic paradise in Poplar-on-Tweaven and Delia couldn’t be more happy for her.

Val had bitten her lip, her new friend was still a bit of an enigma to her. She did know Trixie might talk as if she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but in the last few months she had gleaned enough to know that spoon had been tarnished sometime ago. So in spite of all her bravado, Trixie was as familiar with Poundland as she was with Prada.

It was Julia who cut through the chatter. “I believe I am familiar with the young man you are referring to. He has a small dog with him if I am right?”

“Yes, Reverend.” Jane was beginning to believe she had dreamt the piper and maybe also Appleby Thornton.

“He’s rather good, as I remember.”

Jane was beaming as she nodded.

“So problem solved,” Fred rubbed his hands together with glee, “tot of whisky, a bowl of water for the pooch, bob’s your uncle, sorted”

“No, it certainly is not.” Trixie’s tone caused everyone to alter their gaze, “this man is a professional musician surely, if he has a regular spot he has a license. I am sure Chummy is well acquainted with the gentleman and his story. We can ask her.”

Inspector Noakes had been unable to attend the meeting because of work commitments, and Peter’s Tuesday evenings were spent running a youth football team that Jack and Timothy had both enjoyed being a part of. Alas, Tim had become too rangy and prone to injury, and Jack had become too lazy and prone to chips.

Trixie continued, “He deserves an appropriate wage for his efforts.” She turned to Val. “I believe the Crown has an entertainments licence.”

Val nodded and smiled reassuringly at her friend, “Paddy does, leave it with me and I will also make sure he and the mut are fed and provided with transport both ways.”

Trixie relaxed and shared a smile with the aromatherapist sitting at the back of the room. “Do you know his name?”

“Kevin.”

Fred let out a huge sigh. “So we are all sorted then?”

“It would appear so,” replied Lucille, grimacing at Tim.

“Apart from Dad.” groaned Tim.

Followed by an echo of sighs.

“Leave your dad to me, Chick.” winked Val.

#call the midwife #berns night revisited #january 2020 seems like a lifetime ago #hope it has a happy ending #hate those angsty slow burn au fics

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hallamex-blog · 6 years

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Communicator #132

NEXT REUNION. For our mid-year, afternoon meeting, many venues have been explored – including those used by the Military Police, Guards, Paras, RNA and RAFA. However the most central, now that they have their reduced fees – is for us to return to Farm Road Club. If well attended, we could use it for future reunions. Therefore, please note that our next gathering will be Farm Road Social Club, Farm Road (off the corner of Granville Rd/Queens Road, Sheffield. S2 2TP. 1.30pm on Tuesday 10th July. They just need us to buy drinks.

Nothing sorted yet for our Christmas reunion, but will wait to see what response there is to our Summer meeting. I need your views on the preference of venue.

“BIG SHIP LEAKS.” As you will have seen in the press, they have made big headlines “propeller leaks on HMS Queen Elizabeth, causing serious concern amongst the general public. As we all know, it happened during sea trials – which are intended to find out faults before the ship goes into service. Most ships need their engineers to regularly monitor propeller glands, As an example, it often happens that when purchasing a car, it is necessary to return to the dealer to sort problems. Acceptance trials, sea trials and shake down cruises are all intended to meet the old criteria by the Admiralty, commencing “being in all respects ready for sea…”

However, my main concern is “who leaked the information to the press, and caused panic? No longer the ‘silent service’. Most likely some service chiefs in some fit of jealousy over how the defence budget is allocated in a time of severe cuts. For instance, the Army want the RN to get rid of the Royal Marines and their amphibious landing craft Albion and Bulwark, without understanding their role. The RAF want to scrap the Fleet Air Arm and exclusively use their pilots on board the new carriers. We are supposed to have an ‘integrated armed force”, but some want a bigger slice of the cake than the rest.

LIST OF MEMBERS. Over leaf is a current list of our members past and present, in case you want to contact anyone direct. It probably needs updating, therefore, if you know of any discrepancies kindly let me know.

Although our website is being updated, for data protection purposes, it will not include members’ addresses.

TERMS IN COMMON USE OF NAVAL ORIGIN.

Skylarking. As mentioned in a previous edition, the highest yardarms were “skyscrapers”. In old English, playing is “lac”, and a form is still in use in the Barnsley area, as “laking”. The RN just combined the two. To avoid boredom the captain might send his seamen aloft to chase about and “skylark in the rigging”.

Hammocks. Well almost RN origin. These were phased out in new constructions from the mid ‘50’s. The first Europeans to enjoy them were on Columbus’ Santa Maria in 1492. Following a terrible Atlantic crossing, he came across Caribbean natives using what they called “hamada’s”. He had one installed on his flag ship, until that fatally ran aground during his three-month exploration of the islands (possibly having a too comfortable snooze). He transferred his flag – and hammock- to “Nina” and took the idea back to home, word soon went out across the continent, and the new facility adopted by all European fleets and their sailors. Nelson, however, preferred a cot.

EARLY DAYS OF RNR (then RNVWR) IN SHEFFIELD. In the mid ‘50’s drill money was small but of little concern. The main attraction being to pre-National Servicemen, allowing a foot in the door for Royal Navy admittance. Providing the interview, educational and medical tests were passed, candidates would be taken on for training, and required to learn Morse code to least 12wpm. There would be the occasional lessons in procedure, organisation, voice and an introduction to typewriters. One important communications subject that could not be covered was crypto. West Street was not regarded as a secure building, the safe was only cleared to contain Britex and similar. Crypto and intense Morse consolidation, needed to be learned during basic training. Members such as Wilf Turton, Allan Bamford, Bob Charters, Barrie Howarth, Brian Wadsworth and myself had to journey down to Plymouth (a few went to “Victory” Barracks – now called “Nelson”) for this, plus kitting out, basic training, marching and shooting.

Accommodation was in RN Barracks “HMS Drake” – the entrance so foreboding that Allan and myself walked past the main gate before daring to enter. The PO in the guard house was no help, “Here for two weeks training? That’s what you think, haven’t you heard there is a Suez Crisis on?” Happily, he had no jurisdiction over us – the key phrase being “we are Reservists”. Proceeding through “Drake” the ‘J’ blocks looked depressing – still with their obsolete hammock frames at the time. Fortunately, were billeted in a hut by the sports field – with a fine view of Brunel’s Tamar railway bridge. The actual training was a service boat ride across the Hamoaze to the pierhead of St. Budeaux Signal School. That place was divided into two. One section for Wrens, and the other for National Service men under training (at the time such classes alternated between Budeaux and Mercury.)

Kitting out took place in Drake. No measurements taken, instead a Jack Dusty stood people against a wall that had a few chalk marks. The uniform fitted surprisingly well, although it was of rough serge, no zips and of war time issue. The caps were of canvas and required Blanco, which ran down tunics during the ever present west country rain. Happily, within 48 hours, the barracks emptied of several thousand personal to man all the flotilla bound for the Med. Queues to the dining hall suddenly reduced from thirty minutes to a more acceptable five-minute wait, and we were able to take advantage of other facilities such as the beer bar, NAAFI and cinema. Before embarking on the trip, we had been warned to insist upon getting 200 duty free cigarettes – not the 100 tobacco coupons that slops would try to palm reservists off with.

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loraagrs · 7 years

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My 16 ideas and information for my YouTube channel and Tumblr!

This are the Novels and Stories i am working on. 1. The crazy adventures of the two sisters (novel) •This novel is based on a true story of two girls. This novel is mixed with fantasy and reality with the real world. You will see the two points of view of this girls but mostly the main protagonist who is telling you the story. This novel is being re writing and it has 14 volumes. (This project is in process) •A novel that will he selled globally. •There will be a YouTube series about it with seasons and episodes, it will only be on my channel! •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. 2. Rare creatuees saga (novel) •This novel is about different types of creatures that they all meet together and decide to live in harmony together. The war of each of there kind with one another is over. So it's safe to be together again. But there still does who says otherwise. (This project is in process) [Inspired by my dreams] •A novel will be selled globally. •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. 3. A Equality world (equality 2017 story) •This is a story of different types of people from all over the world trying to fight for there rights will come together to form the perfect world they want to live in. But they all each learn a valuable lesson that will lead them to there goals. (This project is in process) [Inspired by my dreams] •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. 4. Dark blood (creepypasta story and gore) •When a happy family turns into a murdering nightmare, she has to learn to face her fears and solve the mystery of her mothers death an disappearing of her father. She will learn that even the most evilest creatures, demons and monsters will still be human inside them and that not all evil is bad but beautiful. (This project is in process) [inspired by my dreams] •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. 5. To live or die? (Vegan story) •When a little cow escapes from a slaughter house she finds that being alone in the outside world is scary. But with the helps of her farm friends and the rescuers that saved her life she finds happiness in her life. She still wishes the world will stop what she had witnesses in does fields. Because of her desire to save her other members life she made a deal with a spiritual goddess to become human and send a vegan message to the world, she made progress but fails so many times. Will she ever figure this out? (Story finished but still in process the project) •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. •This will be a fully Animation and will only be on my channel! 6. Wolf song (Chaxy Louphie story) •Long ago in the ancient types there has been a war with God and his people. In the war they all wanted revenge on God because of a mysteries event that accurate that had to do with Chaxy. So she hidden her away from them to protect her. In the cave she lived in a mother wolf found her and raised her as her own. She knew she wasn't part of her pack because she was different. She was a fox and can turn human at will. She discovers a hidden temple inside her home cave and without knowing used her powers to open the doorz, just by singing the songs of the wolfs. Will she ever solve the mystery? Will she ever be found by does bad people or someone special? (This project is still in process) [inspired by my dreams] •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. •This will be a fully animation and will be only in my channel! 7. Morena’s adventures (novel) •She was found as a kitten and was given as a gift for a special little girl. They grew up as close best friend but when a incident in a park happened, the cat was kidnapped and was taken away to become selled in the black market. Trying to escape she manage to break free but ended up in Puerto Rico in the Old San Juan. Along the way she finds new friends who helps her get back home to Canada. (Story finished but still in process the project) •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. •A novel will be selled globally. •This will be a fully animation and will only be on my channel! 8. The kingdom of unity (MLP story) •When the six friends discover a map of a new kingdom they quickly couldn't wait to go. But when they discover the kingdoms they find all new adventures and the all the missing puzzles of the real truth of equestria. •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. 9. Adrien’s new best friend? (MLBCN Fanfiction) •A new adventure for a girl who finally graduate from high school and is about to go to her in college in Paris. Her family has a birthday gift gave her own miraculous. As she steps in for the first time in Paris and explores the new country she bumps into Adrien Agreste and they be came best friends like brothers and sisters. But she isn't fully being honest with him. Marinette isn't liking her one bit especially being aeound Adrien and some how knows so much about Chat Noir. Jealousy maybe? Or does she really know what Arielle plans? •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. 10. Live in a dream (novel) •Would it be nice to live in the real world or in your dreams? Find out about all of my experience and adventures when i jump in into my dream world! •There will be artworks about the scenes of the story. •This will be selled globally. •Comics and Animatics will also be included. 11. Mother earth's Green Diamond (Steven Universe Fanfiction) •When Steven and Connie spend time together exploring the temple and areas they find a gemstone cracked, as they fix it they discover a soldier gem from long ago. As this soldier seeks for there wilf they manage to find the rest of her friends. And they discover what really happened to Pink Diamond and discover a new diamond who was never mentioned in the first place. So much mystery and missing puzzles. Steven then meets a Rose Quartz who escaped from being bubbled forever. Will he know what his mom truly was back then? (This project still in process) [Project belong to me and my best friend] •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. 12. The witching hours (musical) •Going back in time and find out what you used to be isn't easy to take in that quickly. But at least you know who you truly are and especially when your generation of past life was witches. The story of all witches from each time period telling there own stories! •Speed paint, Speed draw, Comics and Animatics will also be included. •A music video will be created like a musical theater act. 13. Recipes! •I will share to you guys some food recipes for all of you to enjoy and have fun cooking them woth friends and families! 14. I will be selling artworks and books of mine. I will let you all know when i wimm open commissions. I will put on a page all the stuff I will be selling. 15. I will be working with other people and YouTubers along the way. 16. I will do in the nearest future social videos where you will find out how i look like and how i am. This is all the information and ideas i will be doing from now on!

#mine #my ideas #my information #my video #my channel #my tumblr #my projects #what i am working on #list #to do list

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weshallc · 4 years

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BERNS NIGHT: CHAPTER THREE.

So much love to the most patient person in the world @lovetheturners and all you folks who are willing to take on another chapter.

A Call the Midwife AU in the Crown Jewels Series.

Chapter Three: OF MICE AND MEN

“The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men. Gang aft agley. An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain. For promis’d joy!” Robert Burns, To A Mouse 1785.

The largest reception room at Mount Busby Farm would have once been very grand, with Queen Anne furniture and Regency coffee tables. The only thing that remained unchanged was that the original fireplace still gave up warmth and light provided by nature and the windows let in the light from the same star constellations and the same moon.

The Two Loves preferred antique furniture of a later period and in their 80s comfort was paramount. The room was stocked with love seats, chesterfields, recliners. bean bags, generous cushions and a rather charming gold settee that suspiciously looked pre-war. Just no one was sure which war. Everyone mocked it, but everyone fought to sit on it as it was very comfy. Patsy often talked about replacing it, but Delia wouldn’t hear of it. You don’t throw your memories out with the rubbish and there are more memories than just ours hidden within these cushions, Cariad. That was always the end of it.

The most current occupants of that particular settee to be making memories were Tim Turner and Lucille Anderson. Phyllis looked over at the awkward teen who was no longer as awkward as he had once been. He sat comfortably chatting to his companion, both of them laughing at intervals. Lucille often finishing Tim’s sentences or him proclaiming, yep that’s it or knew you’d get it when they appeared to reach a level of understanding. Of course, when she asked the student nurse about her new friendship she would just reply, brushing the older nurse off. Oh, he is a dear boy; He makes me laugh.

He was certainly doing that from where Matron Crane was sitting on a leather tan Whitworth dining chair probably by Frank Hudson. Years of heavy lifting before the introduction of patient hoists and transfer boards had taken their toll on the matron’s back. It was why she had found herself in a more management role much earlier than she would truly have preferred. She looked at Student Nurse Anderson and thought maybe the NHS was in more tender capable hands than the shitstirrers would have them believe.

“I am wondering if we should start,” youth minister Tom Hereward was on his feet. “I am not sure how long baby will sleep in a strange house.”

“I have been called many things in my time, but not sure strange is one of them,” laughed Delia.

“Oh, I have Deals, it’s fine,” reassured Patsy.

“So. Erm who is in charge, who has the most authority here.” Tom was still trying to create some sense of order.

“Well, Julia is the vicar,” chirped in Bobby trying to offer her husband some support.

“But this is not the church,” Rev Julia responded with a warm smile.

“Another shock there then, it’s all coming out tonight, Patsy.” Delia couldn’t help herself when she had an audience and a bottle of Prosecco was being passed round.

“Matron Crane is on the council,” Lucille reminded everyone.

“No, I don't think that matters lass, it’s not a council matter.” Phyllis shook her head.

“Well, someone needs to take the lead,” Tom said with a hint of irritation.

“I will! On the authority that I am a young woman on her only night off of the week,” struck up Val, “ but I have agreed to come here and discuss plans for Bernie’s birthday instead of having two for one sex on the beach.”

“It’s a cocktail, and its happy hour in the Fourteen Teacups on a Tuesday,” Trixie interpreted for everyone.

“That’s ambitious having a happy hour in the Teacups, isn't it?” said Fred, who had managed to wedge himself into a deep red Chesterfield.

“Yeah, apparently Ursula gives you the right change, that's why they call it happy hour,” Tim smirked.

“Why isn’t he here?” asked Bobby.

“Well, he said it would look suspicious if he left Bernie on her tod behind the bar on a Tuesday night,” Vi explained sitting on a scarlet love seat next to Fred.

“Yep, in case our two Tuesday night regulars rush the bar at once,” snorted Val.

“I think it’s more that it would look suspicious if he actually just left Bernie alone for five minutes,” Trixie corrected.

Lucille felt Tim squirm in the seat beside her. She knew he thought the world of Bernie, but didn’t like to hear her relationship with his father discussed in public. This was inevitable being a small village with one pub, one church and two of the villages most popular inhabitants linked to both. She tried to ease his tension.

“I think it’s lovely, just shows as my grandma used to say there may be snow on the roof, but there is still fire in the grate.”

As everyone surrendered to laughter, Matron shared a smile with the vicar, both of them confirming Lucille might be familiar with the saying but maybe not it’s meaning.

Delia was the first to keep a straight face, “But they are only bairns, wait until they are mine and Pats age then the fire may need a little bit of stoking.”

“Yes, Deals, but remember we have never required the use of a poker.”

Val swiftly continued, “Paddy doesn’t wish to be involved.”

“Why?” Reggie asked perched on his wooden stool.

Val motioned towards Tim, who was still recovering from the last topic of conversation.

Tim looked at his knees and Lucille gave one a quick squeeze. She knew this wasn’t easy for him.

Everyone else also looked at their knees, the mood was solemn.

“We can all understand Paddy’s reasons.” There were a couple of nods and sighs in response. “But we aren’t putting up with any of that nonsense,” Val added with a grin.

This was met with a very large and unanimous cheer.

“Well, I’ve already looked up the Turner tartan,” Trixie handed an iPad over to Patsy via Val.

“That’s very smart,” approved the artist.

“Sorry I hate to throw a spanner in the works, but how are we going to afford all this?” butt in a pensive Vi.

“We've already thought of that,” grinned Delia, ”Mount Busby will cover the cost of the costume.”

“That’s very generous,” sniffed Evie, who had nearly dozed off in a leather recliner.

“Not really,” explained Patsy. “I have a friend that works for Kilts 4 U and they are very interested in looking into the possibility of making an alpaca lined sporran.”

This was news to Reggie who followed anything relating to his charges with great interest, “What’s a sporran?”

“It’s where he keeps his spare change,” Fred enlightened or at least tried to.

“It’s the little purse that men wear at the front of the kilt, Reggie,” Violet elaborated. He seemed reassured by this.

“So anyway in return for a few samples,” Patsy continued, “my friend will be happy to hire out the full regalia for the evening.”

“It’s not long now until Burns Night have you got some sort of prototype ready?” quizzed Evie.

“Lady K is working on them as we speak. She loves nothing better than fiddling with a bit of alpaca wool,” Delia replied gleefully.

“Lady K?” Phyllis queried.

“Yes, she is very creative,” reassured Trixie.

“I don’t doubt it, Trixie, but she is one of Bernie’s clients. What if the lass sees what she is up too”

Jack sat on the floor banged his head against the fire surround he was leaning against, “Can’t imagine Berns thinking, oh look Lady K is sticking bits of alpaca wool to a man’s bag he hangs in front of his todger, that must be something to do with Paddy and my birthday”

Vi was quick to admonish Jack, but when even Tom started to laugh, she decided to let it go.

“What about the little knifey thing they keep in their sock that he stabs the Haggis with?” Fred was beginning to get excited.

“Sgian dubh,” corrected Vi.

“All part of the traditional dress,” Patsy added a tone to her voice to reassure everyone that she had thought of everything.

“So that's the gear sorted. Me and Reggie are in charge of the beer. What else?” Fred’s eyes were wide thinking they actually might be able to pull this off.

“Well, myself and Evie have created a menu, pretty much on the lines of what we used to do in Wilf’s day.” Violet opened a small notebook and put on her reading glasses.

Clearing her throat she read, “Cock-a-leekie soup, Scottish salmon and tattie scones or scotch egg for starters.”

“Cock a what?” shouted up Jack.

“What about those that might not wish to partake in the Haggis?” Tom asked nervously, as he might.

Evie spoke up, before Vi could respond. “There is always the Fourteen Teacups for the likes of those that don’t wish to have Haggis. It’s a Burns Night. If you don’t want Haggis, then stay at home and order in a pizza.”

“What's for pudding?” Bobby struck up, squeezing her husband's hand.

“Cranachan which is raspberries, cream, oats and whisky, or Clootie pudding with whisky sauce or whisky ice cream or a Scottish cheese board with oatcakes.”

Murmurs of approval were aimed in Violet’s direction.

“That's a lot of whisky?” Lucille remarked.

Violet agreed, “Yes, we need just a house whisky for everyone for the toasts Val, I will leave that to you, but you need to pay the piper with a good quality malt.”

Silence broke out in the previously buzzing over occupied living room.

“Piper!” Several people groaned at once.

Fred, who was not going to let anything get in the way of this Burn’s Night declared, “Look we will just have to bung on a recording.” Turning to Tim and Jack, he said, “You lads look up the Red Hot Chilli Pipers on your phones.”

Tim reached for his phone swiping the picture of Lucille and him with Alpaca Colin. But Lucille touched his hand, making him hesitate.

“I don’t think that would be very suitable Mr Buckle, going to all this trouble with such a delicious menu and Mr Turner all dressed up in the finest regalia and then having some squeaky din coming out of an iPhone.”

“Your right lass, it just won't do,” supported Phyllis.

“Well, does anyone know a piper?” Fred replied wearily.

“Surely we can find a professional one online?” contributed Julia

“A professional piper that’s free on Burn’s Night at this late notice,” chided Phyllis.

“I know a piper.”

The voice came from the back of the room everyone turned to look at the slight dark-haired woman sat on a dining chair. “Well, I think we all do.”

“Do we, Jane?” Julia asked.

“Yes, the busker that stands outside the town hall in Appleby Thornton.”

Everyone started talking at once;

“I only go into town every second Tuesday to get my hair done.”

“Same here I only go through if I have a doctor's appointment.”

“Well, it’s the cost of the parking isn't it, it’s free at Tweaven Retail Park and more shops.”

“You can get it on t’internet delivered to your door.”

“I haven’t been since Marks and Spencers closed.”

“Debenhams is closing next week such a shame, that shops older than me, always been a department store in Appleby Thornton.”

“It was one of the first in the country to have a lift, you know.”

Jane cleared her throat. “There are a lot of good things about Appleby Thornton that are not always obvious.”

“Here, here!” chimed in Val, “there is still a Primark.”

“Oh well, let's be grateful for small mercies,” stung back Trixie.

Much to Delia’s disappointment, Val bit her lip. The ex nurse and market gardener loved a full house. She cherished her quiet times with Patsy too, but she was the more sociable of the pair. The farm was large enough for Patsy to have her office and art studio and not be disturbed while Delia fussed the alpacas with Reggie. Trixie moving in had been Patsy’s scheme, but Delia was the one who had benefited most from their new project, even if she would never let their new employee know she was a project.

Delia enjoyed listening to Trixie’s anecdotes and gossip, she felt reconnected with a world that was moving so fast. The Two Loves were business women and technology hadn’t passed them by. It was the music, the celebrities, the trashy telly that Patsy despised and Delia loved that made having Trixie and her friends around delight Delia.

Delia’s carer probably wasn’t as up-to-date with pop culture as Trixie and her friend. Val was now a frequent visitor to Mount Busby as she and their new lodger had struck up quite a friendship. Nurse Bernie always looked a bit behind the door when the other two were in full flow about some reality TV show.

But since Trixie had moved in, Nurse made Delia’s blood pressure check the last visit on her rounds and she drank tea sitting and chatting with Trixie. Bernie didn’t need to watch Love Island. She had her own romantic paradise in Poplar-on-Tweaven and Delia couldn’t be more happy for her.

Val had bitten her lip because even though her new friend was still a bit of an enigma to her. She did know Trixie might talk as if she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but in the last few months she had gleaned enough to know that spoon had been tarnished sometime ago. So in spite of all her bravado, Trixie was as familiar with Poundland as she was Prada.

It was Julia who cut through the chatter. “I believe I am familiar with the young man you are referring to. He has a small dog with him if I am right?”

“Yes, Reverend.” Jane was beginning to believe she had dreamt the piper and maybe also Appleby Thornton.

“He’s rather good, as I remember.”

Jane was beaming as she nodded.

“So problem solved,” Fred rubbed his hands together with glee, “tot of whisky, a bowl of water for the pooch, bob's your uncle, sorted”

“No, it certainly is not.” Trixie's tone caused everyone to alter their gaze, “this man is a professional musician surely, if he has a regular spot he has a license. I am sure Chummy is well acquainted with the gentleman and his story, we can ask her.”

Inspector Noakes had been unable to attend the meeting because of work commitments and Peter’s Tuesday evenings were spent running a youth football team that Jack and Timothy had both enjoyed being a part of. Alas Tim had become too rangy and prone to injury and Jack had become too lazy and prone to chips.

Trixie continued, “He deserves an appropriate wage for his efforts.” She turned to Val. “I believe the Crown has an entertainments licence.”

Val nodded and smiled reassuringly at her friend, “Paddy does, leave it with me and I will also make sure he and the mut are fed and provided with transport both ways.”

Trixie relaxed and shared a smile with the aromatherapist sitting at the back of the room. “Do you know his name?”

“Kevin.”

Fred let out a huge sigh. “So we are all sorted then?”

“It would appear so,” replied Lucille grimacing at Tim.

“Apart from Dad.” groaned Tim.

Followed by an echo of sighs.

“Leave your Dad to me, Chick.” winked Val.

#call the midwife #a turnadette au without turnadette #al's fics

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