It’s a very familiar sight in the United Kingdom, a group of friends sitting around a table in a warm pub in the evening, the atmosphere enhanced by a blazing log fire, the table strewn with open packets of crisps, Pork Scratchings and peanuts …. and a small pool of spilt beer.

And so it is in the Lamb & Flag in Folding Under Sheet in the Derbyshire Peak District, five individuals who had known each other since school, and that was not yesterday, chewing the fat and moaning about this and that: this year the rising costs of everyday items and how, for instance, a packet of crisps that used to have 30g of crisps now has 25g and the price hasn’t changed.

One of the gathering, a tall woman called Amanda, pushes her chair back and excuses herself, saying she needs to check on her flock of sheep high up on the hills. She’s a very successful shepherdess and lives in a farm tucked away between two rocky outcrops. 

“The cost of rearing sheep has become ridiculous” she says “and there are ruthless people looking to rustle both sheep and cattle (Note 1). And the sad fact is when I take my sheep to the abattoir I hardly cover my costs.”  As a parting comment she says she’s also going to take the opportunity of the clear cold weather and see the alignment of the moon and Uranus.

“Your anus?” exclaims Pete, slightly hard of hearing, “you need to be careful up there with ‘em sheep-shaggers about.”

Amanda raises her hand in the air as if to say: “Whatever, Pete!” and leaves.

Then Jim takes the opportunity to bow out as he has to take his very pregnant girlfriend to Derby the following day.

“You’re going to go by rail, Jim?” asks Pete

“No, the rail strikes announced this week make it too uncertain to risk getting stuck (Note 2); we’ll drive as we have to be there by tomorrow evening -the following day is Melanie’s due date. I am concerned as the Royal Derby Hospital has not been able to confirm she’s going to get a bed.”

“Do Melanie’s parents know she’s pregnant?”

“No! They don’t have a very close relationship but I’m sure they’ll find out; word gets about!”

The following morning as they prepare for their journey, Jim realises their electric car hasn’t enough charge for the 55 mile journey so, while Melanie huffs and puffs about her incompetent partner, he plugs it in and makes a thermos of soup.

A few hours later they arrive in Derby but find the Littleover Lodge Hotel, where they had been hoping to stay, was shut, with a large sign on the front door saying “Closed due to staff shortages.” (Note 3) Melanie rolls her eyes to heaven: “Why didn’t you book us a room? It’s not that difficult on-line and you know the town’s going to be full as there’s some important football fixture.”

By now it’s starting to drizzle, that fine rain that is very wet and the evening gloom is depressing. Eventually in desperation they find a B&B hotel in Mickleover which has no vacancies but they persuade the chap behind the desk to let them camp in the large garage, for a small personal consideration. A couple of camp beds and some blankets are found and they organise themselves, between a couple of dusty diesel cars forced off the road by the price of diesel. The receptionist says he would have offered some dinner but there’s no turkey as bird flu has decimated the national flocks. Deliveroo saves the evening with some Tandori chicken for Jim and some fish ‘n chips for Melanie.

Sometime after midnight Melanie feels her waters breaking.

“Can you call an ambulance, Jim, I need to get to hospital?”

After an hour two paramedics arrive and say there is no way they are taking Melanie to hospital (Note 4) and the senior one, Benedicte, starts organising for the baby to be delivered in the back of the ambulance, which is now parked up in the garage, out of the drizzle and cold. After a period in labour, eventually the baby arrives safely. Benedicte finds a blue blanket from a drawer in the ambulance and wraps the little mite snuggly with it.

“It’s a good thing he’s arrived today as two days ago we were on strike!”

There’s a knock on the garage door. “Pleased I’ve found you!” says Amanda who has just arrived bearing a little lamb as a gift. “I somehow knew you’d be here, must be some mystic power we shepherds have!” She turned to Jim and asked: “So, what are you going to call your boy?”

“Haven’t thought about a name yet” he exclaims.

“Jesus!” cries his long-suffering girlfriend and her voice echoes around the garage and out into the world beyond.

Richard 23rd December 2022

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Cattle and sheep rustling in the UK is on the rise (valued at some £2.3 million in 2021) as the cost of living crisis calls for cheap (stolen!) meat.

Note 2 The current leader of the Rail Union is Mike Lynch, a surname which conjures up other images. His predecessor was a Bob Crow, again a surname which has sinister overtones. Just observing!

Note 3 In post-Brexit Britain some 4% of the working population are unemployed and that’s normal, but there are huge numbers of job vacancies, particularly in the hospitality and health care industries. Apparently many older people working before the Covid pandemic have not returned to the workforce.

Note 4 Caused by bed-blocking in hospitals. Some 13,000 patients are well enough to go home but there is not enough care and support at home, so they stay in hospital, blocking those in A&E from moving to a ward. The knock-on effect is that those in need of being seen by a medic are stopped from entering A&E, so the ambulances are being used as a safe place and then the response times for those outside, like Melanie, get longer and longer! Britain in the C21st!