(8/13) At Home in Thrush Green Read Free Page A

ecstasy.
    She sighed with deep contentment, and made her way after the others. It was good to live in the country. It was good to have so many friends. It was good to feel warm and in splendid health.
    She paused by the kitchen door to pick the bright bud of an Albertine rose to thread in her buttonhole.
    'Perfect!' said Dimity, entering the house.

2 Problems at Thrush Green
    THE hawthorn blossom along the hedges gave way to the showy cream plates of elder flowers, and sprays of wild roses, pink and frail as sea shells.
    The gardens of Thrush Green were bright with irises and peonies, and the air was murmurous with the sound of lawn mowers.
    But not all was idyllic.
    Albert Piggott, caretaker, sexton, and erstwhile gravedigger at St Andrew's, found the June heat a sore trial, his nature being inclined to melancholy and excessive self-pity. But it was the mowing which gave him his present reason for complaint.
    Some years earlier, Charles Henstock had decided that the tombstones of the Thrush Green forefathers should be moved, with due reverence, to the edge of the graveyard, and the turf flattened, so that a mower could keep the area tidy with the minimum of effort.
    For too long it had been an eyesore. Albert, whose job it had been to scythe the grass over and around the mounds, was clearly beyond the work, and it seemed impossible to get a replacement.
    There was some opposition to the good rector's proposal, but eventually it was accepted, and now, years later, it was generally agreed that the churchyard of St Andrew's was an exceptionally pleasant place, and the change had been quite successful.
    Albert did not agree, as he told his long-suffering neighbour, Mr Jones of The Two Pheasants, one bright morning as soon as the pub was open.
    'Them dratted tombstones was put too close to the outside wall when they done the job.'
    He took a noisy slurp of his beer.
    'Young Cooke,' he went on, replacing the dripping glass on Mr Jones' carefully polished bar counter, 'can't get the mower between them and the wall.'
    'Oh-ah!' replied Mr Jones without much interest. Albert and his young assistant had been at loggerheads for years now. The publican had heard both sides of the many arguments between the two, and for far too long.
    'Means as I has to get down on me hands and knees with the bill-hook, round the back, like. Not that easy at my age. Not after me Operation.'
    A shadow fell across the sunlit floor. Percy Hodge, a farmer from the Nidden road hard by, was seeking refreshment.
    'You ain't still on about your innards, are you?' he queried. 'I reckon all Thrush Green knows about them tubes of yours. And fair sick of 'em too. Haifa pint, please.'
    Albert's face grew even more morose.
    'All right for you. Never had a day's illness in your life!'
    'Ah! But I got my troubles.'
    He pulled some coins across the counter and settled on the next stool to Albert.
    'Oh? Your Doris come back?'
    Percy drew in his breath noisily.
    'Now, Albert,' began Mr Jones. 'We don't want no trouble between old friends.'
    'Who's talking about old friends?' enquired Albert nastily. Percy's breathing became heavier.
    'You keep Doris's name out of this,' he said. 'I don't keep on about your Nelly, though we all know what she is!'
    'Gentlemen!' cried Mr Jones in alarm.
    Percy and Albert fell silent, and turned their attention to their glasses. A distant clanking sound, followed by a steady chugging, proclaimed that the cement mixer was at work.
    'By the time them places is finished,' said Albert, 'our lot'll all be in the graveyard. Be about ready for young Cooke, I reckon.'
    'Wonder who they'll choose?' asked Percy, secretly glad to pick up this olive branch. 'You put your name down?'
    'What, with my Nelly to look after me? And my girl Molly across the green at the Youngs? No point in me havin' a try. They'll be looking for old folk on their own.'
    'Well, I've put my name forward,' said Percy. 'I'm old, and on my own.'
    His listeners seemed taken aback.