Thursday, 26 February 2009

Ther's Nout as Queer as Folk!

Moving to our current location some four years ago, was a decision based on the quality of life we could achieve for both me my wife and ultimately our Children.

After trawling through various property agents details on both the Internet and the High Street, We managed to find a property which fulfilled the criteria we had set ourselves. A large house, to comfortably accommodate what is a large family, a large garden to accommodate the Children and my wife's green fingers, and an expanse of land to enable us to enter the World of rearing livestock.

Now I don't know about you, but when something seems to good to be true it invariably, in my experience, is too good to be true.

Prior to actually taking possession of our dream house, my Wife and myself ventured in to the local village some 5 miles away, for a celebratory meal, at the only public house within 20 or so miles, how quaint we thought, this shall become our local we thought, we shall meet and become as one with the locals we thought.

Our suspicions should have been raised at this first meeting with the local inhabitants, the meal was adequate, as was the drink, although expensive and the conversation limited to between ourselves with brief interspersion's from the waitress. The local pub goers were conspicuous in there avoidance of the unknown diners, avoiding eye contact at all costs, in fear the 'incomers' may start a conversation.
Towards the end of the evening, the waitress was hovering around our table in anticipation of payment and ultimately going home, as we were, and had been, the only customers all evening. It was a slightly unnerving feeling, and we began to feel a burden to the staffs routine.
"Hurry up dear, the natives are becoming restless", my Wife remarked. She too had obviously felt the same, what I would describe as ' Wild West' saloon bar feeling I had, in that we expected at any time the occupants of the establishment to form a circle, open a pocket watch, which would proceed to play an eery tune gradually slowing down as we all eyeballed each other to see who would draw first.
The waitress finally approached us "Everything alright for you Sir", with a hint of who do you think you are, hurry up and let me go home.
"Fine thank you, could we have the bill please" I replied with a hint of God let me out of here before I am drugged bound and taken to a cellar, destined to become tomorrows dish of the day.
"On Holiday" she continued as I fumbled for my wallet.
"Oh no, we have bought a house not far from here" my Wife replied, and proceed to give directions to its location.

A silence came over the entire room, and I could have sworn that a tumble weed passed by the window.

"The old Grants place" the waitress finally answered, as if from a Scooby Do cartoon."There's been a couple of Incomers in that place since the Grants left" she continued,"none have stayed, they don't know the ways".
What ways!, now I was getting worried, I half expected one of the locals at the bar to break out into a spine chilling laugh, and shout out "Your doomed, all doomed".
The waitress looked left and right and leant forward to speak to us, we also found ourselves looking left and right and leaning forward to meet her, we must have been within 3 inches of each other, in our ghostly huddle.
"They've never got on with us" she whispered, as if she should not have uttered the words, checking from left to right again she continued, "They never come down this far"
"Who?" I dared to ask.
"Your neighbours" she said leaning in even further.
"What No 5?, they seem so nice" I whispered back.
"No...all of them, they keep themselves to themselves, and we do the same"
I looked at my wife who appeared to be close to either crying, screaming or running out of the door. I turned back at the waitress who had rematerialised over at the bar, speaking with a couple of locals who between sentences glared over to our table.
"If things get nasty Ill take the big one with the single eye and 14 fingers" I attempted to reassure my wife, " While you make a run for it"
The waitress made her way back towards us with my credit card,"Will you be wanting coffee sir"
"Ohh no I don't think so, do you dear, No I didn't think so, that's all thank you" I spurted out.
"Will we be seeing you again Sir" She asked as if telling me not to darken the doors of this establishment ever again.
Nervously I managed to laugh, ", I'm sure we'll think about it, wont we dear" looking towards my wife for support, only to find she had put on her coat, and was making a hasty retreat towards the door. "Well thank you again for a lovely evening" I said as I also backed my way towards the door, managing to put my coat on inside out.
Once out of the building we briskly walked to our car briefly glancing back to see half a dozen pale faces pressed against the pub window watching us leave. I didn't know whether to wave back, or leave the car and run.

This was our introduction to our new life, interested in hearing more? Let me know....

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