Tableland (2 page)

Saw in the paper this morning that there may be an electricity strike in the next few days. Must organise some candles and, if possible, something to cook on.

Witty remarks made at my expense this morning due to the purple bruise on my forehead. Was particularly annoyed as Mr Woodnut, our regional sales manager, was in our office today and it made me appear somewhat undignified.

Had toad in the hole for supper but, as Julie is still persisting with this diet of hers, she only had “toad”.

Electricity strike is definitely going to start on Friday or Saturday according to the papers. Julie said she'd buy some candles from Staynes. Went into North Wales on my rounds today. Snow started falling and it was so cold that, instead of having the ham sandwiches Julie had packed for my lunch, I decided to pull up at a little pub called the King's Head and have a hot meal. Had a very delicious Lancashire Hot Pot, followed by apple pie, and saw large notice about an auction sale of furniture and effects, to take place on Tuesday January 20th at Plas Coch. Mine host saw me looking at this with interest and said, ‘It's a large house just down the road on the right, old Lady Morris lived there. Beautiful house in its hey day. You might pick up a good bargain or two, especially on a day like this – there won't be many people turning out today.'

Never averse to picking up a bargain or two, I thanked him, paid my bill, got into the car and decided to go to the sale.

“Just down the road” turned out to be an exaggeration. It took me a long time to find it. I turned right at the first large house I saw, but it turned out to be a girls' school, with a game of hockey in progress. However, after about five miles, I came to Plas Coch and, despite the weather, there were quite a few cars there. The house was monstrous, ugly and icy cold inside. You could have put the whole of Springcroft Meadow into it and still had room to spare. A man with a large moustache handed me a catalogue. I said, ‘Thanks very much' and was annoyed to find it cost me 25p.

I think all the good stuff must have gone in the morning because what was left was very shabby. Frankly I was amazed at the prices things were fetching. An old china chamber pot went for £15 and a wooden clothes horse, which was falling to pieces, for £17 – this went to a woman standing behind me and I heard her saying to her friend, ‘I shall make it into a Japanese fire screen.' Good luck to her, I thought.

I was just going to leave when I saw that Lot 270 was a PATENT UNSPILLABLE GLOWRANGE, one of the original Glover's Glowranges. The words seemed to come up and hit me in the eyes. With the electricity strike on my mind, it seemed just the job.

‘Who'll give me £1 for this excellent and practical heater – in full working order,' asked the Auctioneer. Someone must have winked at him, but I was determined to get this and, when he said £1.75, I held up my hand, and became the proud owner of the Glowrange.

‘I'll take it with me,' I said to the porter chap. He seemed surprised when I said it was Lot 270 and I soon realised why. Included in my lot were two iron bedsteads, a broken rocking chair, an enormous mirror with a crack down one side, three volumes of Missionary work in Bantu Africa and a wooden candlestick.

My main concern was that I shouldn't scratch my Vauxhall Viva. I drove home crouched under the bedsteads and arrived home with a stiff neck, but luckily the car seems to be alright. Julie took it all very well really.

The new television had arrived and, as I sat watching it in our “new” rocking chair (which is really quite handsome and which I will enjoy repairing), I thought how cosy we'd be during the strike. I felt quite satisfied eating my ham sandwiches.

Kippers for breakfast – tasted a bit “off” I thought and told Julie so. Had a bit of an argument about this. How could she know? She hadn't tested them anyway, as she has this idea that “fish is fattening.” She has threatened to join a badminton club, to help with her slimming.

Bruise fading, thank goodness. Felt bilious last night, due, no doubt, to the kippers. Roads icy. Had to go to the factory Lumberjobs at Long Ferry and took the director, Mr Swindlehurst, out to lunch locally. He asked me to call him Stan. The meal was disappointing, a greasy foreign concoction, but think I can safely say I made a good impression on Mr S.

Day started badly with another letter from Julie's mum wanting to know why we hadn't replied to her last letter. Hope to postpone her intended visit a little longer.

Put on new striped shirt for visit to the Downes', which we had been looking forward to all week. Julie's new home perm seems to have taken well this time.

Popped across the road at 8.30. The other couple were already there and we were introduced to Alan and Sue Uppe. They live in a house called The Nest in Feather Lane and Alan teaches at Weston Comprehensive – it's nice to have a chat with somebody in the teaching profession, seems very knowledgeable about world affairs. While we chaps discussed cars (Alan has a Ford Escort), our respective jobs and a political programme seen on television, the girls went to see Una's new duvet, which she had seen advertised in a Sunday colour supplement. Mentioned that Julie was thinking of joining the local badminton club but for some reason, as a topic of conversation, it seemed a “no go” area. I intercepted a quick look between Steve and Alan – what sort of look I couldn't really say. When I asked if either of their good ladies belonged, Steve said that Una had given it up and Alan muttered something about ‘Sue not being really interested' and, as if to change the subject quickly, out of the blue he asked Steve, ‘Got your sporran polished up for the 7th then?' Steve laughed but didn't explain and, at that moment, Una arrived with a laden tray.

We were having our coffee and eating little bits and pieces, which I noticed Julie enjoyed, and having a very pleasant time when the lights went off.

Must confess I had for the moment forgotten about the strike. Una and Steve lit some large religious candles and we all said how cosy it looked but somehow the atmosphere was broken and, after rather a long silence, I said, ‘Well, we'd better go and see if Trev's alright.' Thanked them for a delightful evening and returned home to find, to our annoyance, Trev had lit all Julie's supply of candles, which were stuck in jam jars all around the house. Looked like Aladdin's Cave and he seemed hugely pleased with the effect.

Have decided to build rose arbour in back garden from off-cuts I can get from work – one of the “perks” of being in the timber trade. Went into garden after breakfast to plan it but couldn't concentrate due to the noise coming from next door. Mrs (Vi, I believe) Butt and their teenage daughter, Diane (not an unattractive girl), quarrelling loudly but I couldn't make out what it was all about. Door slammed and Mrs B took their white poodle off down the road.

Ju1ie wrote to her mother in the evening and suggested she comes to stay “sometime in March” when it's a little warmer. Hope she won't bring Bri with her. Hope Julie omitted to mention new supply of extra beds.

Another electric cut today just when Julie was cooking the roast, so had cold ham pie for lunch with pickles – not very warming. Due to having night storage heaters, do not have any heat loss during the day so have not used our Glowrange yet but no doubt will before long.

Collected off-cuts from timber yard. Was unloading the boot when heard a voice behind saying, ‘Evening squire.' It was Steve, who helped me carry the wood into the back garden – very decent of him. Described the arbour I hope to build and he said I could borrow his new drill.

My birthday three weeks today. Mentioned this at breakfast but the information aroused no great interest. Avery has heavy cold. Dream meringue pineapple pudding for supper – very delicious. Special offer at Staynes this week. Julie abstained. No electricity cut today.

Avery off work. Had to take over some of his rounds, which threw my schedule. Phone message from Stan Swindlehurst waiting for me when I got back to office. Wants me to have lunch with him at the Tosca, which I've heard is very smart, next week – rang him back to say ‘Yes, thank you' – arrived home late at seven o'clock, what with one thing and another, to find Julie and Trev trying to light the Glowrange by the light of a candle, as there was a fault in night storage heater in the sitting room.

‘Leave it to me,' I said but after one hour twenty minutes had to admit defeat. Felt cold, tired and hungry. Julie made ham sandwiches and had remains of pineapple pudding. Bed early to keep warm. Just settled down to sleep when electricity, TV, lights, etc. came on again. Felt very annoyed and drafted a strong letter of protest to the Daily Clarion in my mind.

Tinned kipper fillets for breakfast and very good too. Wrong newspaper delivered this morning. Interested to see The Recorder prophesied an end to power cuts on Saturday. Rather a good paper incidentally but must tell Julie to tick off “Balls” for making mistake – matter of principle. Avery still off.

Delicious kipper fillets for breakfast again. Avery back, looking remarkably fit.

Had letter from G.P.O. at last this morning – pleased to say we will have telephone installed next month, vital in my work. Unfortunately, may be on a party line but this better than nothing and also will be cheaper.

Snowed during the night. Took Trevor sledging on nearby slope, met Alan Uppe returning from the shops – Sue in bed with tummy bug. Had interesting discussion on politics. Alan obviously an intellectual type. At lunch, Julie weakened over the potatoes and helped herself to two. ‘Cold weather makes me hungry, d'you know what I mean?' she said. Smiled to myself.

Noticed in Weston Advertiser that art show was to be held all day today in town hall in aid of Life Boats. We decided to “give it the once over” and walked round to the hall about three o'clock in wellingtons. Hall very crowded, hot and noisy. Tea being served on the stage so decided to have a cup first. After queuing ten minutes sat down at small table and surveyed busy scene over piping hot, strong cup of tea. Then started tour at pottery and sculpture corner. Trev fascinated by very modern piece called “Hope” consisting of fuse wire, milk bottle tops and what appeared to be a lavatory chain. Afraid this modern stuff's beyond me. Some nice watercolours – views over Welsh Hills done by local artists, a few portraits – some grotesque in my humble opinion. Surprised the owners allow them to be shown.

‘Nobody could look like that,' Trev said loudly, pointing to one of a white-faced fat woman with red eyes and beige hair. To my horror, a replica of the picture was standing near it talking to friends. Sincerely hope she didn't hear and dragged Trev off to find Julie. She was standing staring at what she called an abstract – she's the cultural one in our family.

Just going when large gentleman by exit shouted at us, ‘Last chance to get your raffle tickets now. Raffle being drawn in five minutes – lovely prizes.' Pointed to table – prizes consisted of large box of chocolates, bottle of sherry, chocolate cake, something else, I can't remember what, a very tasteful framed watercolour view of Conway Harbour (this is what tempted me) and an enormous and hideous painting of yellow splodges. ‘I'll take three – all in a worthwhile cause,' I joked.

Lost Trev at this point – he had gone to the toilet. By the time we were all together again a man on the stage rang a little bell and everything became quiet.

‘The first prize-winner of our raffle can choose his prize from our existing selection,' he announced. Went through five prizes. ‘And the last winner is a pink ticket number 217.' Julie poked me, looked down to check and couldn't believe it – have never won raffle before – but it was true, 217 it was and pink. Hoped the Conway Harbour was left, but felt I wouldn't mind a bottle of sherry.

‘And this lucky winner will be the proud possessor of this amazing controversial oil painting – Yellow Fever by Saffron O'Malley.' I really thought of denying all responsibility and slipping through the exit but Julie gave me a shove so, in a daze, I went to collect prize. Felt very embarrassed. People cleared gangway for me coming back and clapped. It was awkward to carry. We walked straight into the snow and Trev offered to carry it for me. Should have stayed and wrapped some newspaper round it, as when we arrived home found paint was not yet dry and Trev's hands were coated in yellow and orange paint – had terrible job getting it off. Had to borrow turps from the Downes'. Put painting in garage while deciding what to do with it. Funnily enough, Julie seems very thrilled – keeps saying, ‘original oil' and insists it must hang in the sitting room over the television. Hope it will blend with new pale mauve wallpaper, but doubt it.

Very satisfactory to have kept up my diary for a whole month – must keep up the good work. Kipper fillets for breakfast. Hoping to have good hot lunch owing to end of electricity cuts, but Julie said, ‘I thought I'd get some cold meat pie to be on the safe side.' As it was snowing outside, I felt cold meat pie to be rather cheerless. However, we rounded it off with a strong cup of a new brand of instant coffee with a teaspoon of powdered cream added – delicious.

Julie said, ‘If I just curtain the middle pane of glass in the kitchen window and leave the side two bare, it will save enough money to buy a badminton racket.' Always astonished at her way of seeing things. I had to agree. The ancient sewing machine was brought out of the spare bedroom and she hammered away noisily at the nylon net all afternoon.

Steve and Kevin called just before tea with their sledge and took me and Trev to a good slope where half the population of Weston were gathered for an afternoon's jollification. Must say, I enjoyed the sledging myself too.

Showed Steve our new acquisition when we arrived home, propping it up against the wall. ‘What do you think of our abstract painting?' asked Julie and Steve replied, ‘It's very interesting' but we couldn't tell if he really liked it or not.