Mai Griffin
up to our Ruby wedding soon and we wouldn’t live
anywhere else,” he laughed. “It isn’t as quiet as it used
to be but folk can still let their kids out to play without
too much worry.”
Clarrie was aware that he had been trying to catch
a glimpse of the painting as she continually tried to
hold it away from her flapping coat, so when they
turned the corner into the terraced street, where it was
much calmer, she wasn’t surprised when he asked if
he could please see it. What did surprise her was his
look of astonishment and his words… “Well, I can see
why everyone is talking about it,” he said. “I don’t think
there has been anyone in the shop today, over the age
of fifty who hasn’t described it to us. I see what they
mean. It’s amazing. I thought it was your first visit to
the village. What made you decide on this view?”
“Well,” she replied, not quite sure how to take his
remark, “I was actually planning to drive on to Greater
Peasey – I didn’t know there was a Lesser Peasey and
was intrigued when I saw it signposted so decided to
stop for coffee. It seemed such a pretty place that I
couldn’t resist walking around, always being on the
lookout for interesting subjects.” A gust of wind almost
took the canvas from her grip and she was relieved to
find her lodgings were within sight. By the time she
was safely inside, there was no necessity for further
conversation and her neighbour departed with the
hope that he would see her later in the Wench’s Arms.
Clarrie recalled her impressions of the Pub on her
first drive through the village – a picturesque old
building with a thatched roof. She had stopped to ask
if she could stay there but there was no
accommodation for visitors because it was a family
home where the publican employed his three married
sons. Presumably they and their families all lived-in.
8