wytchcroft

That was back in the war of course.

The old woman finishes her tea with a slurp born of indifference to me and my colleagues - indeed to people in-toto.

Weren't you all evacuated back then? I ask. That's what we're always told.

Well of course, what with His Nibs and the boys up to no good on land and sea and - d'you know why my generation all hate clowns? It’s the balloons see? Just like the bloody King's. Him and that bloody bitch of a Queen lapping up the Empire between them like hungry dogs to a dish.

Mind you, that was after...

But you were sent off into the country? I mean, that was the law - that was the agreement.

Oh yes, all very dreadfully British.

And so, I don’t –

Well we still had radios didn’t we? And anyway – what d’you think went on in the country eh?

Well, and no offence Mrs Lake, but that’s why we wanted – why our readers want to hear more. I mean some of the facts are only now coming to light…

Oh someone spill the beans did they? Someone talked? Well good on ‘em – let the chickens come home to rot I say.

So then, you were saying?

Well right enough I was in the country – some place called Kurnshire, ever heard of it? Ever been? All boggy and rural and took some adjusting for a city gal like meself. Anyhow, we was all matched up with families, ‘here you go love, meet Uncle Stanley - and this lovely lady is your new Aunty Mo’.
Didn’t like it, none of us did let me tell yer. I mean, up sticks and on yer way, they say, with not a peep of if you don’t mind, not a bleedin’ murmur of apology.

But it was for your own good surely?

Well if they was thinking that, then they shouldn’t’ve been scrapping about! ‘Oo let that bugger get his mitts on them balloons in the first place eh? Oo gave him soldiers – and if they was gonna do that, then why all the agro? I mean, he was the ruddy King!

Well no, he wasn’t actually, I mean –

Oh right, yes, ‘course – poor Plantagenet, ‘Oo’ed a thought he had it in him? Well they killed his sister I s’pose, that’s right innit? And she was a servant at the time or – Lady’s Maid… am I right? Not surprised the big P got all fired up.

Didn’t make no difference tho’ eh? And what happens when the nation’s all hammer and tongs and playing cavaliers and roundheads again like there’s no tomorrow (which there nearly weren’t!)? What happens then?

Oh, right – “We must think of the children”, all that blarney… I can still remember that speech – caught it on the Willoughby. Everyone watching… “Even a nation divided can consider the plight of innocents – a great family may be riven by strife and argument, but as honourable people, nay as loving parents, the whole of England can show a unity in this one regard and allow provision for the safety of our young and the future generation. And they in turn one day can look back and be proud of even in such a dark hour as this.”

I'm impressed! You remember every word!

Cause I can! Uncle Charlie had the bleedin’ record d’in he.

It was quite a speech – they still replay it.

I kept hoping one of them poodles would poop in their arms, ‘im and his flippin’ Mrs, stood there like butter wouldn’t melt. Does shit melt? Try some of this me Lady! Haah hah!

You sound bitter.

You mean I sound like a foul mouthed old bag. Well, that’s coz I am one right. You live long enough, you can be as bloody foul mouthed as you like. Right?
Bitter? ‘Oo wouldn’t be.

Yes, I understand, times were –

Don’t tell me you understand you pasty faced ponce, you don’t know nuffink!

Perhaps it - ok, but we’re trying – now – we want to know.

Well, give us a drop of that – whatever that is, it aint bloody Vimto I hope hah hah! That’s right, just poor it in there – right, now pin back yer lug holes and listen to this.

You remember that old song d’int ya? That old Teddy Bear’s Whatsit? Pretty bloody popular it was back then, heard it everywhere. Right well, there’s me brand new Uncle Charlie, looking after me and some slip of a thing whose name can’t remember, lookin’ after us on account of his webbed feet.

Flat feet surely?

If you say so… Sniff!

Anyway – he used to bugger off every morning and leave us to pal about as best we could. Try and find some fun, you ever looked for fun in the middle of a moor, smelling of cow piss and mud and god knows what? It aint easy.

Uncle Charlie’s always going on about the farm, “I’m off down farrrm my loves, a’right?” He used to say, and in that funny Kurnish accent of ‘is. One thing about Uncle Charlie – I loved his voice, it was a treat to listen to, sort of musical like he was ‘imself.

So one day we says, “Look Uncle, we’re coming with yer else we’ll both go stark raving!”
And he laughs and says “Well I was gonna tell you to come, just not so quick about it like. A’right then, the Farm it is.”
So off we trundle – that great motor of his steaming up as we go, I still figure a cart would've been quicker. But what do I know? And it used to make us laugh at least.
“All aboard!” we used to yell. 'My private train' old Charlie used to call it. We used to put the coal in, aint nuthin’ to make you feel useful more an’ a pair of blistered hands.

You were telling me about the Farm?

Oh right, the Farm – I was getting’ to it weren’t I? Keep your ‘air on!

Right so there we was sitting happy as Larry in them big leather seats – and the radio didn’t work up on the moors, not where we was, so Uncle Charlie starts whistling that Teddy Bear tune, “If you go down the woods today” – and we join in on account it being so popular that we know all the words too. So Uncle Charlie, he gives us a funny look and starts making up his own words instead. Pretty strange ones as it goes, like, “If you go down to the farm today, you better not go alone,” which we thought was – oh tha’s nice, liking a bit a company, but he starts singing stuff like; “If you go down to the sludge factory, carry an anti-gas box.”

I know! We thought so too. What’s all that about, Mary (oh that was her name, yeah I remember it now), I says and who knows, just we didn’t like them words. “If you go down to the Farm to play and jump in the sludge collector…” just nonsense, probably thought us kids would think it was funny.

Bloody Uncle Charlie.

end of pt.1

This quick fic was inspired by an amazing poem from my friend Yu.