Stoned

by Graham Johns

  Seven of the clock arrived and everyone was thankfully on time, keen to get the actions dealt with. Gordon took the decision to introduce Selina to everyone present in person. The majority had met his previous wife and, now that they were finally actually seeing her for the first time, noted the identical nature of his new one but decided not to mention anything just now. Smutty Mathew, who was the only attendee still sporting Lycra this evening, albeit a little looser, shepherded them all into his lounge, which was rather small and had just enough room for a pair of two-seater sofas and four dining chairs. The gas fire was in full swing to keep the room warm which meant that Gordon got a sweat on pretty quickly. Mathew had affixed the list he made yesterday to the wall using some blue tack so that everyone could be reminded of it.

  “Right,” Mathew began, “before we try to prioritise our actions, has anyone any strong opinions about any of the bullet points we noted down? Please bear in mind that we should try to respect all opinions.”

  “Can I start?” Gordon asked, standing up in front of the fireplace. Nobody argued otherwise. “Having had time to reflect, and despite my dislike of all bastards Lancastrian, I feel that the best approach would be to do nothing except campaign against Mr. Bickerdyke.”

  Several of those present were rather taken aback by this announcement from one of the more partisan members of the community. “Are you feeling alright?” Mick asked.

  “Yes,” Gordon and his chins nodded, “but I have to think about my wife as well.” Selina looked pleased in an indifferent sort of fashion.

  “How do you mean?” Ernest asked.

  “Well, Selina isn’t from Yorkshire. If we proceed with some of these items, I fear that I will be cutting my nose off to spite my face.”

  “Who cares? You’re on the committee aren’t you? We’ll just turn a blind eye to people we like!” Tom shouted.

  “That wouldn’t be right would it?” Gordon asked. “We can’t found God’s county principles on deceit.”

  “Amen to that,” Reverend Burns contributed.

  “Would you mind sitting down again, Gordon?” Mick asked. Gordon looked puzzled but obliged.

  “I fear that there is something else you need to know which may influence your opinion,” Mick paused for effect, the only noise was coming from the fire. “You see, any houses on the south west of the river currently are technically in Lancashire, I felt you should be aware.”

  Gordon’s face coloured a deep purple before he erupted from his chair. “So what exactly are you saying? That I should just go along with these plans because I’m technically an outcast Lancastrian bastard?”

  Mick looked somewhat flabbergasted by this response and seemed slightly apologetic as he replied, “Not at all, I’m actually saying that we can ensure we build the wall around your farm as well.”

  “Why not just bloody move the river again so it goes round the whole village?” Gordon’s facial colour was subsiding just a little but the pins and needles he got in his left arm from time to time had returned.

  Mathew added this to his bullet points and everyone watched him do it. He liked an audience so he made sure he stuck his posterior out as suggestively as he could manage while scribing.

  “Look, let’s be clear, I was born on my farm, I lived all my life on my farm and I will most likely die on my farm. I consider myself Yorkshire through and through, so I will try to support what the group wants.” He sat down again.

  “I still reckon we kill that MP!” Tom shouted.

  Heads were shaken in unison, “Someone else will just step in to his role and it will set everyone against us,” Ernest said.

  “For my part,” Ranjit commented, “I think we remove the killing and the joining with the other countries, and keep independence as a last resort.”

  “Yorkshire! Yorkshire! Yorkshire!” Tom and Johnny shouted as one. They’d drank deeply of the Dog & Duck’s beverage selection earlier in the evening.

  “Could we declare Nether-Staining as a country?” Bob enquired. Mathew scribed that one. “I say that because it feels more achievable and gives us more power. We’d be out of Yorkshire too, mind you.”

  “I guess it is an option, maybe a lower quality one than a full wall,” Mick replied, with the scrunched brow of the thoughtful.

  The atmosphere in the room descended into a strange kind of expectant silence but no one had anything else to add to those opinions already expressed. Seeing that this was going to be a quicker meeting than expected, Mathew drew up a new list.

  MAIN ACTIONS

  Finish building a wall around Yorkshire

  Speak to the press and politically oppose those who would seek to merge the counties

  Raise money to finance any project

  RESERVE ACTIONS

  Campaign for Yorkshire independence

  Establish Nether-Staining as a country

  Move the river again

  “Shall we assign some owners for these actions?” Mick asked the group.

  “I’ll be happy to deal with the press and look into the political angle,” Veronica said quickly, “but I’ll need some help.”

  “I’ll help you, my love,” Ernest replied.

  “Me too,” said Ranjit, figuring his skills as a chemist were more appropriate to brain activity.

  “It might be helpful if I assisted with that as well,” Reverend Burns added.

  “I’ll help you with your wall, Mick,” Tom said, rubbing his hands together at the idea of taking physical action.

  The bulging biceps of Johnny Gilpin also stepped in, “I’ll help with that as well.”

  “Thanks, lads,” Mick replied.

  “I’m happy to manage the fundraising from the Dog & Duck,” Bob said, looking around at the group.

  “Count me in, dear,” Beryl said.

  “Selina and I can help with that,” Gordon replied reluctantly, “and I guess I’m happy if Mick wants to borrow my tractor for his wall.”

  “You can borrow any of my machinery as well,” Ernest added.

  “Maybe I should also help with the wall so we have an even split of people but I’ll also keep tabs on where we’re at, and chair any meetings we need at my house, if that is OK with you all?” Mathew concluded.

  Everyone nodded. “Right, let’s gather again at the same time next week shall we?”

  CHAPTER 6

  I’VE GOT TO BUILD MYSELF A WALL,

  TO REALLY SET THE TONE,

  BUT I HAVE TO ASK A QUESTION,

  WHERE WILL I GET THE STONE?

  “Hmmm,” Mick mouthed largely to himself, rather than to Tom and Johnny who were with him. The mid-morning sunshine gave him a nice glow as he gazed upon his pile of rocks in the sheep dip, which had grown a little, but not enough. It was probably just eighteen inches high and no wider now. The gently burbling River Neth nearby didn’t distract him from a complex question.

  “Where are we going to get enough stone from if we’re to build this thing?” he asked.

  “My mate Steve works down at the quarry if that’s any use,” Tom suggested.

  “Can’t we just use some other material?” Johnny asked. “I mean, why not just use concrete?”

  Mick simply glared at Johnny, Tom joined him. “We can’t just mutilate the very essence of Yorkshire. When you think of Yorkshire, I think you will find that one of the first things you think about is the patchwork of green fields divided by beautiful dry stone walls. That must be our goal, gentlemen! Yorkshire cannot start its future journey with a make-do approach.”

  Tom looked slightly emotional at that speech and he cracked open a can of lager which he had brought with him and took a swig. Johnny was duly humbled and speechless, “OK” was all he managed to say.

  “Here’s an idea,” Tom said, “if everyone agrees that Yorkshire is best alone, well maybe we just appropriate stone from existing sources, like walls already within Yorkshire or derelict buildings?”

  “You mean that we take down the walls within to build the
walls without?” Johnny asked.

  “Yeah, I mean, it’s a beautiful concept isn’t it?” Tom looked a touch guilty and hoped he hadn’t been overheard uttering such romanticised twaddle.

  Luckily for him, the only passer-by was Chastity Boycott who was on her way to the vicarage to pretend to be religious. A now-distant descendent of Honesty; she liked short skirts, excessive make-up, tattoos, erotic piercings and group sex, though not necessarily all at the same time. She had just decided that talk like that from Tom would be the making of both his and Johnny’s day later, but only after she’d done her religious duty, also known as community service, in tidying up the church gardens.

  Mick had a tear in his eye. The sheer delight of a thug like Tom coming up with the idea touched his very soul. He had a lot of love to give right now, and he felt that tonight he needed to give it to a lucky Nether-Staining lady. He glanced at Chastity as she ambled past, but quickly glanced away again lest she get any ideas…she wouldn’t qualify as a lady, that’s for sure.

  “Let’s link up with Veronica. She can relay the grand plan to the press so that people don’t think we’re just on the rob. Now, let’s put some more stones on this pile before lunchtime,” Mick said, stepping back so he could watch these two strapping younger men do their thing.

  ***

  The fundraising team were in full swing in the pub, with Mathew having decided to join them that morning in his role as overseer. They were gathered around one of the larger faux-oak tables and enjoying a mid-morning coffee with a shot from the spirit section thrown in for good measure. Mathew had already scribed a list of ideas from the assembled group.

  FUNDRAISING IDEAS

  Crowdfunding Project

  Doorstep Bucket Collection

  Telethon

  Charity Single

  Raffle Tickets

  Guest Ale

  Leveraging Wealthy Connections

  Various Sponsored Events

  Baking Competition

  Theft (last resort)

  “I’m not sure how much money we need,” Bob said, “but I think these ought to give us a good start.”

  “We must be able to do some basic maths,” Beryl said, tapping away on her mobile phone, “Uncle Google seems to say that the county is around six thousand square miles and of course we’ll need to worry about borders with Lincolnshire, Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, Cheshire, Lancashire, Cumbria and County Durham. Not much then.”

  There were one or two intakes of breath at the sheer size of the task ahead of them, coupled with shakes of the head. It was almost like a car mechanic convention, minus the over-inflated price tags which inevitably would’ve followed.

  “Maybe we need to segment it into small pieces?” Selina asked, having a good databank of geography she could call upon. “We don’t want to get disillusioned with it too soon. At least we don’t have to worry about the North Sea coast or the River Humber.”

  Gordon replied, “Good point. A gated entry on the Humber Bridge would do it so that’s an easy one.”

  “Maybe we could approach those other counties to help pay for it? They might want rid of us?” Bob suggested.

  “Interesting idea, Robert,” Gordon said, “it feels like we need to get the political landscape sussed out before we know what we need to do exactly, but there is no harm in starting to raise funds.”

  “Shall I go and open a bank account for us to use?” Beryl asked.

  “Only if it’s the Bank of Yorkshire you use,” Gordon replied sternly.

  Beryl gave him one of her looks that he didn’t like to be on the end of, largely because it might restrict his allowed beer supply in the pub, “Who else?”

  “We’ll go and speak to Veronica about the political and press angles,” Gordon said, indicating Selina and himself.

  “I’ll come with you, STS,” Mathew added with a smirk, passing the fundraising actions list to Bob for safekeeping.

  ***

  At the Scoggins’ household, yet another meeting was in full swing, and Veronica was currently on the phone to the Yorkshire Herald. Everyone else was sitting around the kitchen table, quietly listening to one side of the conversation.

  “Yes, you have the details correct. It might be best if you consult with Maurice Bickerdyke though, assuming of course he will answer any direct questions you put to him,” she said, twirling one of her grey curls with her free hand absent-mindedly.

  “OK, thank you, Diane. Lovely to speak with you. I look forward to hearing from you again soon,” Veronica placed the receiver back in its cradle and addressed the group once more. “That was Diane Jordan, she said she is going to look into it and come back to me once she knows a thing or two which is a good start.”

  Ranjit had been scribbling on a piece of paper while the phone call was underway. He rotated it around and showed it to everyone else. On it was a list of questions. Ernest read it out loud, “Do you value Yorkshire? Where is your county pride? Do you want to merge with Lancashire? It’s time we stand together to protect our Yorkshire Heritage and Yorkshire Future and say no to any change.”

  “That reads pretty well,” Reverend Burns said, “as a man of the cloth I am not keen on preaching hatred and I think the more conservative folks of the county will agree so it might be best if we go with a fairly moderate message.”

  “Do you think it’d make a good leaflet?” Ranjit asked, feeling quite proud of his first attempt.

  “I don’t see why not, although the layout and overall design might need some work. We maybe need to get Mathew to use his creative talents, run a print for us and then start to drop them out locally. Perhaps we can also get some TV and radio coverage,” Veronica said, “I’ll get on to that.”

  Gordon, Selina and Mathew presently appeared at the ajar kitchen doorway with a polite knock and ventured into the house.

  Dispensing with any pleasantries, and merely nodding at the assembly, Gordon launched straight into his question, “We need to know what the political landscape is looking like before we know exactly how much money we need to raise. Can you get a feel for that somehow, d’you think?”

  “How do you mean?” Ernest asked.

  “We figured that if we are serious about building a wall, maybe the bordering counties would help. They might want rid of us. There might already be walls in place too, of a fashion,” Gordon said.

  “The more I hear about this wall, the crazier it all sounds,” the Reverend said with a slight shake of his head.

  “And another thing, we still don’t actually know how long a wall we would need to build.” Gordon rested his voice and then rested his bulk into a chair. Selina joined him. Mathew was standing and looking at Ranjit’s leaflet idea from over his shoulder.

  “Points noted,” Veronica said.

  It was now Mick’s turn to appear at the door, he was a little surprised to see the large gathering already present but pressed on nonetheless, “Hi everyone, I just wanted to relay an idea to you, namely that we could dismantle existing walls within Yorkshire to obtain supplies to build the wall around us. Beautiful uniting concept that Tom came up with.”

  “Tom? Really?” Ernest said. “I sometimes think he’d be more likely to throw stones at people than do anything constructive with them.”

  “Well, there it is. We just thought it was an idea for the press angle.”

  Ranjit scribbled a few notes and then held aloft a new sheet of paper and narrated its contents, “If you love Yorkshire, it is time to show it, take down your own personal walls and help build a county wall to preserve the Yorkshire we love!”

  “Beautiful,” Mick said, “does anyone have the time on them?”

  “Yes, I’ll join you in a libation back at the pub,” Gordon replied.

  Rubbing his hands together, Mick said, “Excellent.” He was back outside in a shot.

  Gordon joined him with Selina at his side, whom he kissed goodbye on the cheek as their paths diverged. He and Mick watched her as she headed away.


  “I’ve been dying to ask you, is she Betty’s twin sister or something?” Mick enquired.

  “If I said yes would you believe me?” Gordon replied.

  “Probably not. I could sense she wasn’t female as I strangely had very little urge in my loins to mate with her when we met. You’ve got that robot version of your wife up and running, haven’t you?”

  “Yep and I have to say she’s amazing. She doesn’t hate my guts, does loads of stuff around the farm, even Nigel seems to like her and we manage a decent level of conversation too.”

  “Sounds almost idyllic, so what’s wrong?” Mick was ever-perceptive.

  “Well, there isn’t a great deal of warmth there really. But she makes me think a little differently about life and priorities. I suppose I am just slightly confused with things.”

  “Nothing a good taste of Hole won’t help alleviate, I expect,” Mick said, very pleased with himself at the salivating thought.

  ***

  There are all manner of terms relating to the propagation of something such as lighting the fuse, lighting the blue touch paper or spreading like wildfire. When a small group of people are in the know about something and one of them happens to mention it to an outsider, word can quickly spread, just like wildfire as it happens, and Nether-Staining was about to start a wildfire all of its own.

  Tom Towler was on the phone to his mate, Steve, at the quarry. Appropriately, there were explosions going off in the background during the call.

  “Yeah, we discovered there are plans for Yorkshire to be merged with Lancashire and we need to build a big dry stone wall around the county to make sure it doesn’t happen!” Tom shouted into his handset.

  The call didn’t last long after that because Steve had to go and deal with some issue or other. Fortunately, Steve had picked up the pertinent fact of the call and began to ask around a few of his contacts about stone supplies. Word began to spread.

  ***

  Maurice Bickerdyke was not idle that afternoon either, having heard very clearly indeed some of Gordon’s comments in the pub the day before. He too was talking on the telephone and he was less than pleased.