LIFE IN THE ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE

Just because it’s a quiet village, it doesn’t mean that nothing underhanded ever happens.

……..

Frank and Vera bought a thatched-roof cottage on the edge a small English village, surrounded by miles of green fields. Their next door neighbours were Tom and Alice who’d lived in the village for years.

Frank had reached senior management, and their two fully grown children had flown the coop long ago. Vera was lonely sometimes, especially with Frank’s long days at work and the occasional night away, but over the 18 months since they’d bought the house, she’d diverted her unused energy to the large back garden, transforming it into a botanical rainbow.

Tom and Alice were almost twenty five years older, and after a few years in retirement, had settled into a home-based regular routine.

Frank liked his neighbours. They were quiet and had kept mostly to themselves during winter, except for when Tom popped around seeking a hand with some chore at the weekend, or visa-versa if needs ever arose.

Then as spring became summer, Frank would spend most Sunday afternoons with Tom in his shed, often doing nothing much more than sharing a few beers and talking their life-story men-talk.

Tom had been a hard working dairyman and ‘tough-as-old-boots’ farm labourer most of his life, and Frank had been a ‘ suit-and-tie’ salesman of one sort or another, so their vastly different worlds led to some amusing and enthralling tall stories.

Alice was the quintessential old fusspot, but she and Vera had spent lots of girly-talk kitchen time together, and Frank appreciated the resulting fine country-style cooking.

One day, Vera asked old Alice to clear up a mystery which had been bugging her for quite a while.

“Why do you sometimes call Tom ‘deedee’, is that like a nickname or something?”

Alice had laughed and whispered the secret out of the side of her mouth.

“It’s our little code for when I’m feeling frisky and to give him fair warning… that tonight he’ll be growing a donkey-dick. But it’s all for me, so don’t you be getting any fancy ideas, mind.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” replied Vera, astonished and intrigued, but after, found that sometimes she did.

…….

Then, one sad day near the end of that summer, Alice keeled over and died.

Almost everyone in the village attended the funeral, commiserating Tom on his heartbreaking loss.

“Seventy two,” Tom bemoaned to Frank at the wake. “I thought she’d outlast us all.”

……….

The next day, with Frank at work, Vera decided she’d better pop next door and check on old Tom. It would probably be the first day he’s been on his own for years, she surmised. She didn’t want him to do anything stupid.

“I’m gonna miss the old girl,“ Tom lamented, “not having a woman around the house. And then being on me own at nights, that’s gonna be the worst part,” he continued. “Anyway, I was thinking, you could look through her clothes and see if there’s summat you’d like.