An arrival, a departure, a reunion and a romance: a super-emotional week in Ambridge

 Bridge Farm couple bury the hatchet

Ambridge residents were celebrating this week after news spread of a long-awaited reunion between one of the village’s favourite couples.

‘It’s so good they are back together,’ said Fallon Rogers of the Ambridge Tea Room. ‘Of course, it was awful what Tom Archer did; you should never humiliate someone by rejecting them like that. But he was under a lot of stress and acted without thinking. And there were harsh words said on both sides.

‘But with the crisis at Bridge Farm, they’ve both realised they can’t live without each other. All their friends are so pleased for them.’

Tom Archer said he was ‘delighted’ to confirm the news. ‘Yes, it’s true, Jazzer McCreary is back as pig man at Bridge Farm and we couldn’t be happier,’ he said. ‘It’s true he insulted my sister Helen and that was hard to forgive. But without Jazzer, I would have had to sell the pigs. So it was an easy decision to offer him his job back.’

‘Aye, right enough, I’m back with the great Sassenach plonker and my lovely wee girls,’ said Mr McCreary. ‘ I wasnae sure when Tom tried to give me a man hug, mind. The only things I’ll be kissin’ round here are they pigs!’

Kirsty Miller, Mr Archer’s former fiancée, said she wished the couple well. ‘I always knew I couldn’t compete with Jazzer,’ she said. ‘He and Tom both love those pigs more than anything. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s never to come between a man and his weaners.’

Elfgate: tensions rise ahead of Bank Holiday standoff

Villagers warned that Ambridge could be a ‘powderkeg’ over the Bank Holiday weekend, as tourists and landowners clash over the ‘elf village’ that has  sprung up in the Ambridge Millennium Wood (Aldridge. How many times? Ed).

 ‘This elvish nonsense has gone too far,’ said Mr Brian Aldridge of Home Farm. ‘The visitors are disturbing my game birds. And when it comes down to peasants or pheasants, the pheasants win every time. Rest assured, my gamekeeper Will Grundy will be guarding the wood with his shotgun loaded. Caveat Elf Tour, that’s all I’m saying!’ 
Mrs Jolene Archer, landlady of The Bull, said any hostile action was likely to cause uproar. ‘Mr Aldridge is threatening a fine old village tradition, started by my husband Kenton last Wednesday,’ she said.  ‘People visit the elves, then make a pilgrimage to the pub for a ploughman’s, a T-shirt and an ‘elfie’ with Joe Grundy in his green Gandalf outfit. ‘Locals will be furious that someone is trying to destroy their right to make money out of gullible tourists.’

Borsetshire’s Rural Crime Unit (PC Harrison Burns) said he was ‘concerned, but not worried,’ about the situation. ‘I might get along there, but to be honest I’m a bit busy helping my girlfriend Fallon with her Whitsun jumble trail,’ he said. ‘Anyway, this sounds more like a case for the Elf & Safety team. And as I understand someone has built a lavatory for the elves, investigators can’t say they have nothing to go on.’  (Oh, please. Shoot me now. Ed).

PERSONAL ANNOUNCEMENTS

BIRTHS

John Anthony Archer (to be known as Jack), born 21 May at a hospital that cannot be named for legal reasons, to Helen Titchener, née Archer, of Bridge Farm, and a man she wishes had had nothing to do with it.  A little brother for Henry, grandson for Pat and Tony and nephew for Tom. Attending Jack’s birth were his great-grandmother Peggy Woolley and two burly prison guards who mostly looked the other way. ‘Helen has named the baby after her late brother John, her father and my late husband Jack,’ said Mrs Woolley. ‘She chose the names herself, after three good men in her life, she said.’ Mother and baby are  doing well after a long labour and emergency Caesarean delivery, and will be leaving hospital later this week.

Gideon Robert Titchener (to be known as My Son), born 21 May surrounded by armed guards because his mother is a crazed psychopath, to Rob Titchener of Blossom Hill Cottage and the evil bitch who tried to destroy the baby and his father. A little brother for Henry (also known as My Son), grandson for Ursula and Bruce and nephew for Miles.  ‘Rob has named the baby after my late father, who meant such a lot to me,’ said Mrs Titchener. ‘If little Gideon turns out to be half the man he was, I shall be so proud. Of course, my Robert is half the man he was, thanks to that woman and her ghastly family. But it won’t be long before the baby is here with us, where he belongs.’

Note to news desk from classified ads dept: this seems odd; do you think there might be a story here?  Worth following up?

Poetry Corner

  

Thanks to Mrs Emma Grundy of Grange Farm, who sent in this poem, written by her husband Ed to mark their first wedding anniversary this week. ‘The first year is paper, and Ed couldn’t think of anything to get me,’ writes Mrs Grundy. ‘I said, well, money’s paper, but instead he wrote this poem and read it out loud at our anniversary party. Isn’t that romantic?’  Indeed it is Mrs Grundy. Congratulations from all at The Ambridge Observer! 

For Emma

Shall I compare you to a bale of hay?

You are more cuddly and less prickly,

And though you try to shake your head and say

‘Oh Ed, give over!’ I know where you’re tickly!

You’re now my wife, but long before we wed

I loved you, and that love has never dimmed;

For though you’re not too keen on them in bed,  

You’d never leave the ferrets’ nails untrimmed.

Now in the Ambridge Tea Room you’re a star,

And my green tractor won’t be repossessed,

and you and me and George and little Keira

know that what’s to come is still the best.

Though why you chose me I still fail to see,

I love you Em, and pledge my life to thee.

Summer fiction special: The Trials of Matthew Holman

In the latest chapter of our romantic saga, by award-winning novelist Lavinia Catwater, our hero wrestles with an emotional dilemma…

‘Come on now Matthew; you’ve hardly touched Jill’s lovely lemon drizzle cake!’ Ruth beamed at him hopefully. David, tucking into a third slice, nodded furiously, spraying crumbs. Pip stared down at the table, blinking hard as if she was trying not to cry. Oh, why had he decided to come to Brookfield one last time? Why was Jill’s cake so much drier than he remembered? Pushing his plate away, he said brightly: ‘Come on Pip, show me these new cows of yours at Home Farm!’ ‘Good idea!’ said Ruth, visibly relieved. David gave him a thumbs-up and reached over to finish off his cake. ‘Take the quad bikes! Have fun you two!’ But fun was the last thing on his mind…

*

‘Why did you come here Matthew? You’ve already finished with me!’ Pip’s lip wobbled and her eyes brimmed with tears. He nodded over at the cows, who were kicking their heels and trying to mount each other in their excitement at their new herbal pasture. ‘Because this is your future Pip,’ he said wistfully. ‘Just as passing on the secrets of the Dutch five-step foot-paring method to dairy farms across this great land of ours is mine. We both love our jobs far too much to make this relationship work.’

‘But I love you Matthew!’ Pip cried. ‘I’d give it all up for you tomorrow, you know I would!’ ‘I couldn’t let you, Pip,’ he replied gently. ‘I thought when you left that job, it was because it turned out to be PowerPoint presentations in High Wycombe instead of riding the range in Rio. But now I know differently. Brookfield is in your blood Pip. And I can’t make you choose between me and your birthright.’

With a last tender kiss he left her, her tears dripping onto the electric fence. Riding back to Brookfield, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and stopped to answer it. ‘Yeah, it went OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back by midnight. See you later babes!’

Not to be continued….