Shock as Elliott bails out of Berrow Farm
Justin Elliott, chairman of Borchester Land’s holding
company, Damara Capital, said: ‘These are always difficult decisions, but the
climate was just too challenging. I could cope with the Parish Council rejecting
my offer to fund the new village hall, and even turned the other cheek when the
vicar sent my Christmas hamper back.
‘But stumbling on Lynda Snell in the altogether at the
Calendar Girls photo-shoot was the last
straw. I haven’t been able to look at an udder since. The cows have to go.’
The Trials of Ruth Archer
Ruth Archer made a final note in her ‘Bilbo Baggins’
scrapbook and hugged it to her new All Blacks sweatshirt.
This flight was exhausting, but the journey she had
taken in her mind was so much longer. What was it the Maori elder had told her
on her pilgrimage to Tongariro? ‘I see cows in your eyes, my child. They are
your future.’. Descending through the night towards home, she wondered if
her revelation on the sacred mountain would lead to happiness, or tear her
family apart…
*
‘So you see, it’s like this!’ Despite her jet-lag,
Ruth’s eyes shone with passion as she surveyed her family: David, his face red
with the effort of holding in his gently swelling paunch; Pip, writing ‘M’ in
spilt sugar on the kitchen table, and Jill, carving a rib of beef with one hand
and stirring a pudding with the other. How she loved them all!
‘What I’m saying is, we need to stay in milk, but do
it differently!’ she urged. ‘Sell the herd, buy some new cows that cost less to
run – crossbreds, Norwegian Reds with Jerseys…’
‘Oh, I’m not sure I could knit jerseys for them all at
my age dear,’ said Jill. ‘Maybe the WI could help.’
‘Hmm; I’ll have to see what Matthew says,’ said Pip
dreamily. But David’s face was mottled now with rage. ‘Sell the herd! How could
you! That was MY idea!’ Turning on his heel, he stomped out of the kitchen.
Heartbroken, Ruth stroked the bronze sculpture of the
cow and calf, still half wrapped, that David had given her for their
anniversary. Would it be a symbol of new beginnings – or a memorial to their
marriage?
*
‘I thought I’d find you here.’ David was leaning on a
fence post, kicking its base like a sulky little boy as Ruth gently approached.
‘I know it’s a lot to take in, what with my having big ideas for the business
and that and just springing them on you.’
‘Yes,’ David said grudgingly. ‘I’d never do that to
you Ruth.’
‘I know pet,’ Ruth smiled knowingly to herself. ‘But
spending time with all those lean, bronzed sheep shearers with six packs in New
Zealand just made me realised how much it’s you I really want. Although a bit
less of your mum’s fruit cake wouldn’t go amiss!’
Playfully, she poked him in the belly and he grunted
like Ellie his favourite cow, who was guzzling silage, oblivious of the huge
changes that were about to happen at Brookfield Farm. ‘Dan and Doris; Phil and
Jill; you and me – we’re in this together!’ said Ruth, her eyes brimming with
happy tears. ‘Thank God! It’s been hell without you,’ beamed her husband. ‘I
still need a bit of help with my arm. And you won't believe what Toby Fairbrother
wrote on my plaster!’
Calendar
Girls hailed as a ‘triumph’
Despite rumours of a ‘disastrous’ dress rehearsal,
local impresario Lynda Snell described her production of Calendar Girls at Lower Loxley as a ‘triumph’. ‘Our ladies were
outstanding, especially when the heater failed,’ she said. ‘The company gave
their all and the audience got everything they came for, and more.’
‘It was certainly a lively introduction to Ambridge,’
said Dr Richard Locke, who attended every show. ‘Elizabeth Pargetter as Annie
was a real hottie... I mean, she gave a poignant and moving performance.’
However, a spokesperson for Jean Harvey, who played
Jessie, said she was considering legal action over the alleged sabotage of a
vital prop. ‘Someone unravelled my client’s knitting, leaving her without the
wherewithal to give a dignified performance,’ she said. ‘Compensation is due.’
• See our Arts Special for Tristram Hawkshaw’s review of Calendar Girls!
My Week, by Helen Titchener
Ambridge cheese maker, retailer and mum-to-be Helen
Titchener shares the highlights of her busy festive season.
Christmas Day
I had a rotten cold before Christmas so my husband Rob
brought me breakfast in bed: he spoils me! Our son Henry had already opened his
presents, which was thoughtful of Rob as he knew I’d over-tired myself wrapping
them. But he and Henry showed me a selfie, which was lovely.
Rob gave me a beautiful necklace – I don’t know how
much it cost, as he looks after all the finances now. And a new dress, but I’ve
‘bloomed’ so much it didn’t fit – so
upsetting.
Note to self: lay off the mince pies!
Tuesday December 29
We had our 20-week scan today. Rob was super-excited
to see the baby’s fingers and toes! ‘You’ve done all this before Helen, but not
properly,’ he said. ‘This is MY son.’ So sweet! Rob’s already had lots of ideas
for names: he likes Dominic and Julian. For some reason I don’t really want to
think about it yet. But I did try and contact my friend Ian about being a
godparent. We had a silly misunderstanding at his wedding but I’m sure we’ll
make it up soon! I feel lonely sometimes (oh, don’t put that in; Rob won’t like it).
Wednesday December 30
Such a silly thing happened at Bridge Farm shop today!
It seems I repeated the pre-Christmas fruit order, so we’re completely awash
with oranges and bananas. It was odd, because I’m sure I remember taking extra
care, but Rob said not to worry, it was just my hormones, or my cold, or
something. He’s right; I’ve been feeling really sluggish lately, so I decided
not to have any supper. I’m sure a
lot of busy mums-to-be feel the same!
Thursday December 31
Rob is such a modern husband: he’s persuaded me that
we should job-share at the shop, so I have more energy for him, the new baby,
and Henry. Isn’t that lovely? It means I get to relax at home (how did I get
through the day without Homes Under The
Hammer?!) and of course I’m not driving because I can’t be trusted on the
road. But Rob’s fine with me phoning people up, as long as I tell him first,
and if I want to go out, I just have to make an appointment! I simply couldn’t manage
without him. I’m so lucky. (Editor, you
will make sure you leave this bit in, won’t you? Thanks, Helen.)
Back to your usual brilliant observations after the Christmas break.... Can't wait for the slow unraveling of the Rob/Helen plot over 2016.... Thrilling...
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteSorry, poor proof reading - I meant to say 'Me too! And I can scarcely contain my excitement until Ian sees the light and pays Rob a 'visit' to settle some scores and avenge Helen and Henry!'
DeleteIn homage to The Omen, I think Titchener Junior should be named Damian - heh heh heh...
ReplyDeleteCan't wait for The Unmasking of Rob.
ReplyDeleteAnd I really mean I can't wait, as I'm finding it increasingly difficult to listen to the Titchenor domestic exchanges without punching the cushions!
The steady drip drip of poison emanating from Rob's lips is excruciating to listen to. Please can you hurry up and unmask this repulsive character! May it be in public, on the Green, with all victims present. And may Helen finally get a grip!
ReplyDelete