page 6

NIGHT OUT

“Bonk” Edson had lived on Badgers’ Knapp all his life. His father had farmed it before him. In fact there had been Edsons at Crebetts ever since his great grandfather had staked out his claim in the early eighteen hundreds and acquired squatters rights to graze some fifty head of adult cattle and a hundred sheep on the Common.

Bonk had farmed Crebbets in his own right ever since his father had, after a merry evening with a neighbour across the Common, after a days hunting, fallen dead drunk, into a dew pond. He was still alive when they fished him out the next day but the shock of all that water, both inside and out, was too much for the old man, and within a week they were carrying him down off the Knapp in a farm wagon to his last resting place in the Churchyard at the bottom.

He’d not always been called “Bonk” mind you. When his parents had taken him in the pony trap to his Christening he was called John Henry, and his mother had insisted on calling him all of that until the day he came off his pony. As soon as he was able to ride his father had given him a pony; not that the old man was all that benevolent, it suited his book to have someone ride the Knapp to check up on the stock out on the Common. He also found it useful for John Henry to ride down to the village to get a copy of the local Paper.

Because of the practice he got John Henry soon became a reasonable horseman. Indeed, he became quite cocky about it, but pride always went before a fall, and one day when he put the pony to a high bank he went over but the pony did not. To make matters worse the pony went home and left his young rider to walk back across the Common.

When John Henry got back he was in tears, not because he had been hurt by the fall for he had landed on a soft bed of heather, but because the pony had bested him.

“The bloody pony” he sobbed to his mother, “The bloody pony threw me over the bloody bonk.” His mother, being nicely brought up, tried hard to get John Henry to say ‘bank’ but it was of no avail and since that day John Henry has been called Bonk.

Not long after his fathers’ departure from this world his mother departed too to join her husband, and Bonk was left to run the farm on his own. He could, of course, have given it up, sold out and set off in search of his fortune in the greater world that lay beyond the Common. Such a thing never crossed his mind; instead he searched about for a wife. Well, it wasn’t much of a search for Else had been there all the time, just along the track towards the point where it ran down over the side of the Knapp and on to the village.

Else was a nice girl, about his own age and of course there was the fact that he had known her all his life. He was not the first man in her life and wasn’t to be the last either as it turned out, but more of that later. She accepted Bonk because he had a farm of his own and so was now ‘somebody’. She had known him all her life, and it would be a chance to get away from the rest of the big family her parents had produced.
Their courtship was fast and passionate. In order to see if the ‘Chimney carried smoke’ they were married before they were Churched, a situation not uncommon in the downland villages or indeed elsewhere. After their Churching they set up house together at Crebetts and life went smoothly on its way for some ten years or so. To the locals surprise and despite Else’s mother telling her that Bonk ought to “stop using they things” and get on and father some children, none were forthcoming.

Whether they started drinking to console each other over their childless state or in the hope that Else would become pregnant it will never be known. What is known is that the drinking took them off the Knapp and into the world where people lived. Here they met other thirsty people and drank even more; at least Bonk did. Else just got more talkative and, if possible, more amorous than in her younger days some twenty years earlier. By now of course she had lost her looks which, it must be said, were never her strong point and years of drinking and gallons of whisky had not improved. The funny thing was though, and all of her men friends agreed, that when they had had a few drinks, or perhaps a lot, depending on the man, she could look positively attractive. Bonk was not blind to what was going on supposedly behind his back, but by now the drink had got hold of him and he couldn’t care less provided that Else was there on the odd occasion when he felt a return of his old urges to produce a family.

Thus we come to that Summer when Badgers’ Knapp and the Common were fairly sprinkled with visitors. Bonk and Elsie spent a fair time down in the village at the Badgers’ Glory chatting with these people. Among them was a traveller who made the Inn his headquarters whilst he spent three or four days visiting the farms around the Common trying to sell his goods to the farmers. He had been to Crebetts on several occasions in the past and was not unaware of Else’s reputation of being a generous hearted woman. He had in fact chatted her up but it had always been at the farm and Bonk was always there so he had not made much progress.

This particular evening the three of them, Bonk, Else and the traveller were drinking steadily at the bar. Bonk did not like the fellow much, but as he was buying all the drink he tolerated him. The more Bonk drank the more this chap was prepared to pay for until eventually Bonk, through bleary eyes, saw the fellow disappearing through the door with Else. He turned to the bar and bought another drink, the first he’d paid for that evening. He stayed at the bar drinking steadily until Midnight, the police seldom bothered the isolated pubs, by now he had drunk himself sober and suddenly thought about Else and that chap. He finished his drink and left the pub to drive back to Crebetts.

Although it was summer it was quite chilly up on the Knapp and small clouds hurriedly crossed the face of the moon, driven by a stiffish breeze. As Bonk turned the car into the track that led down to the farm he switched off the engine and glided to a halt outside the back door of the house. In the cool night air he was still a little unsteady on his feet as he went up the stairs.

Up in the bedroom Else heard a noise and said in a startled voice “Bonk’s back!” The chap jumped off the bed but had only time to put his shirt on before Bonk entered the room and made a grab for him. The lunge threw Bonk off his feet and by the time he recovered lover boy was at the foot of the stairs and making his way to the front door. Bonk dashed down after him and chased him across the yard and into the bit of an orchard the other side. Here lover boy ran up the sloping trunk of a tree and hid himself in the topmost branches.

Bonk could dimly see him up there and went over to the old stable and brought out the sheepdogs and made them sit round the base of the tree; they had been trained to hold sheep in a corner and were not averse to sitting there all night. Bonk went back into the house to bed.

Else and Bonk were up early the next morning and whilst Else got breakfast Bonk went out to the orchard to collect the dogs and shut them in the old stable again before returning to the house. Lover boy heard Bonk’s voice as he walked across the orchard with the dogs without so much as a glance over his shoulder at the stiff, half frozen body up in the apple tree.

The farmhouse door shut with a bang that echoed across the Common, and lover boy slowly eased his painful limbs down the trunk of the tree that he had hurriedly climbed almost six hours before. Glancing at the house he decided to forfeit his clothes and make his way back across the Common as he was, minus everything except his shirt. As the sun rose higher and his limbs warmed up he was able to walk a little faster. It took him something more than an hour to cover the two miles of the Common track to the point where it joined the road to the village.

He could hear the sound of a car in the distance and thought he would try to thumb a lift. Looking ruefully at his bare legs he wondered if the driver would stop for him. He needn’t have worried. The car came into sight coming off the Common track. Too late he realised it was Bonk at the wheel and the car seemed to be coming straight for him. He jumped into the ditch and felt the draught up his shirt as the car missed him by an inch. He could hear Else’s laugh as she and B6nk drove down the road to the village on their way to market.