The Waiter's Tale: a story

He was very good at waiting. It was something that he’d been doing all his life, in one way or another. His mother once told him that he’d kept her waiting for more than three weeks before he’d made up his mind to be born, so perhaps that had helped to set his life in its apparently inevitable course. Like Micawber, he had a definite idea that one day something worth having would turn up, and in the meantime he was prepared to wait. There seemed little point in taking hasty action to move things along.

His career choice, if it could be called that, was wholly appropriate. Here he was, in white shirt, black waistcoat and bow tie, waiting at table in a small, unfashionable restaurant that was just about staying in business. Tonight he was the only waiter on duty, which did not matter all that much, given that there were hardly any diners. 

It suited him, this un-busy lifestyle, as it gave him plenty of time to indulge his only hobby, which was the reading of great literature. He was not a particularly fast reader, but that did not bother him.  He was prepared to wait for a plot to unfold or a character to develop. Not for him the rush to the last page and the final denouement. A great book was like a fine wine or a gourmet meal, to be savoured and lingered over rather than swallowed at a gulp.

Over in the far corner, a middle-aged lady had had enough time to study the menu and was looking around for someone to take her order. He made sure that he could not be spotted easily and let her wait a little longer before he drifted over to her table.

He wrote her order down, slowly. He saw no reason for haste – he had all night, even if she didn’t. Fortunately, she seemed to be of a similar mind. She had caught the mood of this place and soon came to realise that she was probably in for a long night. This restaurant was relaxed with a capital R. There was no point in rushing things.

“What’s the book?” she asked. He had stuffed it inside his waistcoat when he had decided to stop reading and take her order, and the book was difficult to miss as he stood at her table. 

“Chaucer”, he said, “The Canterbury Tales. In the original Middle English”.

“I’m impressed”, she said. “It’s not what I would have expected a waiter to be reading”.

“I’d better get your order in”, he said.

“But come back when you’ve done so”, she called after him. “I’d like to talk”.

The lady must have been well into her 50s. He’d waited a long time to get chatted up while at work, and he could have hoped for somebody a little younger, but it was a quiet night and a little conversation would not be unwelcome. So he did what she asked.

“So what do you make of Chaucer?” she asked. “A bit heavy-going, surely? And please sit down – you’re giving me a crick in the neck”.

So they sat and talked about Chaucer, as he went back and forth between her table and the kitchen to fetch her meal. She asked him what he thought made Chaucer a great writer and what he liked and disliked about him. She asked him about his favourite tale, and about how he reckoned Chaucer might have got on had he been living today.

“And you?” she said, “What’s your tale?”

“I haven’t got one”, he said.

“Come on – everyone’s got a tale to tell. So why are you a waiter in this place when you’ve got enough brains to be reading Chaucer and to know what you’re reading? What are you – 30 or so? Why haven’t you made a better go of your life than you have?”

“I’m waiting”.

“I know. I can see that.”

“No. I mean that I’m waiting for my brother to give me what I’m owed”.

“I’m intrigued”, she said. “Tell me more”.

"My parents died in a plane crash about five years ago. They hadn’t made a new will since just after my elder brother was born, more than 35 years ago. My father often said that he would sort things out so that I would benefit as well as my brother, but he never got round to it. And I wasn’t all that bothered, because my brother said once that he’d see that I was OK in any case, so that’s how things stayed. Legally, I’m not entitled to anything, but my parents wanted me to have a share, and my brother knows that, so it’ll turn out fine in the end.”

“So how much money are we talking about?” she asked. “Ten thousand? Twenty?”

“Oh, more than that”, he said, “I reckon my father was worth about five million when he died”.

She dropped her wineglass on the table, where it deposited an appreciable quantity of house white. 

“Five million?” she almost shouted, “Think what you could do with only a fraction of that! It could change your life, set you free from this place and everything! And you’ve just been waiting five years for your brother to do the decent thing?”

“These things take time”, he said. “You have to be patient with a will of that sort of size. And there would have been death duties to pay, and things like that. So I’m grateful to him for taking all that off my hands. He’s not a bad man, and he’s going to pay me something when he’s good and ready, I’m sure”.

“Are you? I take it that he hasn’t spent any of his share of the money yet?”

“Well”, he said, “he did move into Miller’s Hall last year – you know, that big place down by the river. And he bought a Bentley about the same time. So presumably his money has come through, and mine won’t be far behind”.

“You know who you are, don’t you?” she said. “You’re Patient Griselda, from the Clerk’s Tale, always taking everything that’s thrown at you and never standing up for yourself. You know who you want to be? One of those guys from the Pardoner’s Tale, who saw the prize and went for it”.

“And ended up dead!” he replied. “They found a heap of gold and killed each other in trying to grab it all for themselves”. 

“They were fools!” she said. “Their friend had died and they went off seeking Death so that they could kill him. They sought Death and they found their own. But you are searching for Life. That money can buy you a real life, not this half-existence that you have now, getting all your living second-hand from the books you read! Get out there, go to your brother, and demand what’s rightfully yours!”

“But it’s not mine to demand”, he said. “I’m sure that if I wait a bit longer…”

“You’re not going a wait a minute more than you have to”, she said. “When do you finish here?”

“As soon as you’ve finished your meal and I’ve cleared everything up”, he said.

“Right! I’ve finished, so get clearing! You are going to go to your brother tonight and sort this out once and for all, and I’m coming with you to make sure that you do!”

So, twenty minutes later, they were in her car on their way to Miller’s Hall. As she drove there was a gleam in her eye as of someone who was determined to right an ancient wrong. If he was Patient Griselda, then she was Chaucer’s Crusader Knight, riding into battle. 

At the gates that fronted the driveway of Miller’s Hall, he spoke into the intercom device. “Hello”, he said, ”it’s me, I need to talk to you – now”.

“Well hello there, little bro!” came the reply, with laughing female voices in the background. “Long time, no hear! What on earth can be so urgent that you need to talk to me at this time of night?”  However, before the question could be answered the gates swung open. Big brother was clearly in a good mood, presumably brought on by champagne and female company.

“Right”, she said, as the car moved up the long gravel drive, “this is where we get you a life!”

The elder brother was waiting for them outside the open front door as they arrived. He had a glass in one hand, a bottle in the other, and an elegant woman pressed against each shoulder. Loud music came from within the house. The party was clearly over and the guests had gone, except for the host’s partners for the night. 

“Well look who’s here!” he said as his younger brother stepped forward. “The waiter himself!  You’re a bit late to serve the drinks, but you can clear up if you like”.

The two women laughed at the weak joke, but this only served to annoy still further the former diner from the restaurant, who now emerged from the shadows at the waiter’s side.

“So you think it’s all a big laugh, do you?” she said. “You have all this wealth and luxury and your brother has nothing but a dead-end job as a waiter. You owe him, and he’s come to collect.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is all about, is it?” he said, turning to his brother and ignoring her. “You want some of daddy’s cash, do you? Well, that’s just tough luck, little bro, because I’ve got it all, and I rather like things as they are. I don’t have to give you a penny, unless you’ve got something in writing?”

“You know he hasn’t!” she spat back at him. “But you promised to see him right, and now it’s time to keep that promise. He deserves a real life, and the only thing standing in his way is you and your selfishness!”

“Oh, I’m not standing in his way”, the brother said. “He can go wherever he wants, any time. Down my drive and out of my life will do for starters”.

“But you know what your father said”, she shouted, “you were both intended to share the money.  And the new will would have said so”.

“New will?” he said. “I know nothing about a new will. But I do know about the one that the solicitor read out. Everything was left to me, and I’m keeping it.  Goodbye”.

With that, he was about to turn and go back into the house when his younger brother suddenly sprang into action. Having said almost nothing during this conversation, he found himself experiencing something that was new and disturbing – anger. All his life he had waited. He had waited for something to turn up and for his brother to keep his promise. And now he could see that this was not going to happen. His elder brother, whom he had admired and trusted, was going back on his word and leaving him in the dirt. A real, fulfilled life had been denied him. He had spent his life reading about other people’s lives and imagining himself in their place – experiencing love, adventure, mystery and wild emotions – but second-hand life was all that he was ever going to have.

Never having been angry in his life, he did not know how to handle anger when it arrived. It now controlled him completely and he found himself screaming and shouting as he charged at his brother, his hands aiming for his neck. When they arrived they squeezed harder than he knew how, and the pressure on his brother’s windpipe did not relent until long after all life had been extinguished from the man who had cheated him of his own life.

He had come here tonight looking for Life, and Life is what he got. The judge recommended seventeen years before parole could be considered.

© John Welford

The reduced Canterbury Tales: Monk's Tale to Parson's Tale

(The challenge was to write a complete story in exactly 100 words. So here is Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tale with each tale reduced to 100 words. This post contains Tales nineteen to twenty-four.)

Follow these links for the other Tales in "100 word" versions:

Prologue and Knight's Tale to Wife of Bath's Tale
Friar's Tale to Franklin's Tale
Physician's Tale to Tale of Melibee

Click the titles for fuller accounts of each Tale

Monk's Tale

This is not one tale but seventeen short ones, all telling how various people from history and mythology have come a cropper. Some of them are well-known characters, such as Nero and Alexander the Great, some are from the Bible or Apocrypha, such as Samson, Belshazzar and Antiochus, and some are characters that were better known in the 14^th century than they are now, such as Bernabo Visconti and Ugolino of Pisa. Eventually the Knight has had enough and tells the Monk to stop because he would prefer to hear stories of rises to greatness rather than falls from it.

Nun's Priest's Tale

Chauntecleer the cockerel has a long debate with Pertelote, one of his hens, about the power of dreams and how they can be portents of disaster, with each of them quoting extensively from literature, history and mythology. Some weeks later Chauntecleer is caught by a fox and the farm people give chase. Chauntecleer tells the fox that he should face his pursuers and tell them to back off. When the fox opens his mouth to do so, Chauntecleer escapes and flies up into a tree. The fox tries to inveigle him back down but Chauntecleer refuses to be caught twice.

Second Nun's Tale

In Roman times, Cecilia marries Valerian but tells him that her virginity is guarded by an angel. She advises him to consult Pope Urban, who baptizes him so that he can now see the angel. Valerian persuades his brother Tibertius to become a Christian. Almachius the Roman prefect arrests the brothers and condemns them to death, but Maximus the executioner says that he saw their souls ascend to Heaven and is himself converted but then executed. Cecilia survives being boiled alive and lives for three days after an attempt to behead her. She uses this time to make more converts.

Canon's Yeoman's Tale

There are two tales. In the first the yeoman reveals the secrets of his employer who has a sideline as an alchemist who cheats people out of their money when he persuades them that he can find the “philosopher’s stone” to cure all illnesses. In second tale a different canon/alchemist tells a priest that he can change quicksilver into real silver. This is done with trickery and sleight of hand that nevertheless convinces the priest that a real change has taken place. The priest pays a huge sum of money for the “recipe”, after which the canon makes himself scarce.

Manciple's Tale

Phoebus the sun god once lived on Earth where he kept a white crow with a beautiful song and the ability to speak. He also had a young wife whom he loved and treated well but guarded closely. Once, when he was out, his wife entertained a lover. The crow saw everything and told Phoebus, who killed his wife by shooting her with an arrow. Phoebus immediately regretted this and blamed the crow for telling him lies. The crow’s punishment was to have his white feathers turned to black and to lose the power of speech and his singing voice.

Parson's Tale

This is a long sermon based on a text from Jeremiah, supposedly preached by a reformist Lollard priest. It is a disquisition on the Seven Deadly Sins, for each of which there is a long list of actions that can be counted as committing the sin together with recommended remedies, such that, for example, gentleness and patience are the cure for anger. The terms of confession and penitence for each sin are laid out, but there is also a warning against making false confessions of sins that have not been committed. Given the length of the list, this sounds improbable!

© John Welford

The reduced Canterbury Tales: Physician's Tale to Tale of Melibee

(The challenge was to write a complete story in exactly 100 words. So here is Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tale with each tale reduced to 100 words. This post contains Tales thirteen to eighteen.)

Click on the titles for fuller accounts of each Tale

Physician's Tale

Virginia is the beautiful young daughter of Virginius. Apius, a corrupt judge, fancies her and persuades Claudius to bring a charge against Virginius claiming that Virginia is in fact an escaped servant of his. Apius finds in Claudius’s favour, but rather than release Virginia to the court, he tells her that death is preferable to dishonour and he must therefore kill her, a fate that she accepts. Virginius takes her head to Apius who demands that Virginius be hanged for murder but the people rise up against Apius who is thrown in prison and commits suicide. Virginius has Claudius exiled.

Pardoner's Tale

When a friend dies of the plague, three young men pledge to find and kill Death. An old man tells them where Death can be found, but instead they find a pile of gold. Two of them send the third to fetch food and wine while they guard the treasure. However, the two plan to kill the third so that they can share the gold between themselves. Meanwhile the third man puts poison in their wine so that he can claim all the gold himself. When he returns he is killed and the other two drink the wine to celebrate.

Shipman's Tale 

John, a monk, regularly visits a merchant and his wife. The wife complains to John that her husband is mean, and asks him for a loan of a hundred franks. John goes to the husband and asks for a hundred franks loan, which he gets. When the monk gives the money to the wife he gets a night of passion for his reward. When the merchant calls in the loan, the monk says that he has already paid it to the wife. The wife tells her husband that she thought it was a gift, but repays him in bed instead.

Prioress's Tale 

A young Christian boy has to walk through the Jewish quarter on his way to school. As he walks he sings a Christian hymn that so annoys the Jews that they murder him and throw his body into a cesspit. His mother finds his body, which is still singing despite him being dead. He is taken to the abbey for burial and the Jews are condemned and executed. The boy says that he can only go to Heaven if a seed, placed on his tongue by the Virgin Mary, is removed. This is done and his body is then buried.

Chaucer's Tale of Sir Thopas 

Sir Thopas rides out to meet a fairy queen along a route lined with flowers and with birds singing, but the giant Sir Oliphant stands in his way. He offers to fight the giant but says that he has not got his proper armour and so must go home and get it. The giant throws a few stones at him. Once back home, Sir Thopas tells his men about the giant, who now has three heads. At this point the Host tells Chaucer that he can’t stand any more of this nonsense and would he please stop – which he does.

Chaucer's Tale of Melibee 

Melibee comes home to discover that three men have broken in and attacked his wife, Prudence, and Sophie their daughter, leaving the latter very badly injured. Melibee and Prudence then debate what action Melibee should take, and they call in a number of friends to offer advice, much of which is conflicting. Melibee is all for meeting violence with violence, but Prudence is not so sure. She advises patience, making peace, and the rule of law. Eventually he calls in the three attackers and forgives them after they apologise. Does Sophie recover? We are not told, but it seems unlikely!

© John Welford

The reduced Canterbury Tales: Friar's Tale to Franklin's Tale

(The challenge was to write a complete story in exactly 100 words. So here is Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales with each tale reduced to 100 words. This post contains Tales seven to twelve.)

Friar’s Tale

A corrupt summoner meets a yeoman, who says he is a “fiend from hell”. The summoner reckons he might learn a few new tricks. The yeoman explains that he can only fulfil a curse if someone really means what they say and is not just expressing exasperation. The summoner tries to trick an old woman and take her new pan as well as her money. She tells the summoner to go to hell, so the yeoman asks her if she really means it, which she does unless the summoner repents. He does not, so is promptly whisked off to hell.

 

Summoner’s Tale

A friar visits Thomas and his wife, who have recently lost their child. Thomas is lying on a couch. He complains that they have paid money to many friars for prayers, without success, but the friar explains that they should have given their money to only one friar, namely himself. Thomas says that he has a special gift that the friar must reach for underneath him. This is an enormous fart. The pilgrims decide that a fart could be shared between friary members if delivered at the hub of a cartwheel with a friar at the end of each spoke.

Clerk’s Tale

Lord Walter marries Griselda, a poor village woman. When a daughter is born Walter takes her from Griselda and says that the baby will be killed, although this is not true. Four years later Griselda has a boy baby, but he is taken away when aged two and again Walter says he will be killed. Throughout, Griselda remains perfectly obedient to her husband. Later still, Walter says he will divorce Griselda and take a new wife, who is actually her daughter, now aged twelve. Griselda appeals to Walter not to treat her the same way, at which Walter comes clean.

 

Merchant’s Tale

Old man January has married young and pretty May. His young squire Damian fancies May and vice versa. Time passes. January, who has lost his sight, has a walled private garden but May makes a copy of the key to the gate and gives it to Damian. She suggests to Damian that he climb a pear tree in the garden when January takes May there. She offers to fetch a pear for January and has her wicked way with Damian. The god Pluto restores January’s sight, but goddess Proserpine ensures that January does not believe what he thinks he sees.

Squire’s Tale

At King Cambuskan’s birthday feast, a knight rides into his hall astride a magic brass horse, a gift from the King of Araby. The knight shows Cambuskan how it works. He also gives Princess Candace a magic ring that allows her to understand the speech of birds and to make herbal medicines. The next day Candace finds a wounded female falcon that tells a story of blighted love. She takes the falcon home and cures her.

That is all we get, although the Squire implies that more magical adventures are in store for the king, his daughter and his sons.

 

Franklin’s Tale

The lady Dorigen fears that her husband Arviragus will be shipwrecked on the Brittany rocks when he returns to her from fighting in Britain. Aurelius claims her if he can make the rocks disappear, and she agrees in jest. He offers to pays a magician to cause an exceptionally high tide that covers all the rocks, which he does.  Arviragus returns safely, Dorigen confesses what she has agreed to, and Arviragus says that she must do what she has promised. Aurelius sees how distressed Dorigen is and releases her from her bond. The magician also releases Dorigen from his debt.

© John Welford

The reduced Canterbury Tales: Prologue to Wife of Bath's Tale

(The challenge was to write a complete story in exactly 100 words. So here is Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tale with each tale reduced to 100 words. This post contains the Prologue and the first six Tales.)

Prologue 

Farewell March, hello April. It’s Pilgrimage time! Off we go to Canterbury. This is a rum lot gathered at the Tabard in Southwark – a knight, his squire, a miller, a reeve, a whole load of religious people – most of whom are probably up to no good – and there’s a woman from Bath who’s got a few skeletons in the cupboard. I’m coming too of course - the name’s Geoffrey Chaucer.

Mine Host has a thought - suppose we pass the time by telling stories as we ride to Canterbury? I’ll write them down if you like – it could be fun!

Knight's Tale 

Palamon and Arcite are two knights imprisoned in a tower in Athens by Theseus. Both see Lady Emily from the tower and claim “dibs”. Arcite is released and exiled but returns to Athens and gets a job in Emily’s house. Palamon later escapes, meets Arcite and they agree to duel over their claim to Emily. Theseus finds out and the duel becomes a staged pitched battle. Emily prays that the winner will be the one who loves her most. The gods Venus and Saturn get involved, such that Palamon loses but Arcite dies from a fall. Palamon therefore marries Emily.

Miller's Tale 

Elderly carpenter John has young wife Alison who is much fancied by lodger Nicholas (an astrologer) and neighbour Absolon. Alison fancies Nicholas. Nicholas tell John that Noah’s Flood will happen again and persuades him to spend the night in a barrel tied to the rafters. Absolon asks Alison for a midnight kiss at the window, but she sticks her bare backside out at him instead. Absolon asks for another kiss later but plans to whack her rear end with a piece of hot metal. However, this time it’s Nicholas’s arse. He shouts “Water”, John cuts his rope and crashes down.

Reeve's Tale 

Students John and Aleyn think that Symkyn the miller is cheating their college. They spend the night at the mill, with everyone sleeping in the same room. Aleyn slips into bed with the miller’s teenage daughter, but John moves the baby’s cradle so that the miller’s wife gets into John’s bed on returning after getting up for a pee. Aleyn also gets it wrong by getting into bed with the miller and telling him (thinking it’s John) what he has just done to his daughter. Huge fight ends when the miller’s wife mistakenly hits the miller with a big stick.

Cook's Tale 

Apprentice Perkin, known as Reveller, drinks, dances and plays dice, but funds his gambling by stealing money from his employer, a grocer. The grocer thinks that he is likely to be a bad influence on the other apprentices and throws him out. Perkin finds new lodgings with a friend who is also a gambler. The friend’s wife runs a shop and substitutes her income with prostitution.

And that is all that Chaucer tells us. Did he ever finish the story? Was the manuscript lost? The chances are that the tale, involving gamblers and prostitutes, would have been another saucy one.

Man of Law's Tale 

Constance, daughter of the Christian Emperor of Rome, is shipwrecked in Northumberland and rescued by the constable of a nearby castle and his wife. When the wife is murdered, Constance is tried for the crime but found not guilty and King Alla marries her. As a result of trickery by the king’s mother, Constance and her son are set adrift at sea and end up in the Mediterranean. Her ship is discovered by a Roman senator, who, accompanied by Constance’s son, later meets King Alla who is visiting Rome. Constance is reunited with her father but then returns to England.

Wife of Bath's Tale 

On pain of death, a knight of King Arthur has a year to discover what women most desire and take his answer to the Queen. His time is nearly up when a witch tells him that the answer is “sovereignty in marriage”. The Queen says he’s right, but the witch then demands her side of the bargain, which is that the knight must marry her. The witch says that he can have her foul and old (and loyal) or fair and young (and flighty). He leaves the choice to her and she rewards him by being fair, young and true.

© John Welford

Getting Out: a story

The recent annual cricket match between the Shakespeareans and the Chaucereans was not without its usual features of interest and controversy. Lessons were, however, learned from last year’s encounter, in that the disastrous decision to invite Hamlet to stand as umpire was not repeated. His complete indecision when asked to judge on just about anything had led to the match being slowed to a crawl and half the players falling asleep as he pondered on: “Is he out or is he not out, that is the question”, time after time.

This year’s umpires, Chaucer’s Man of Law and Shakespeare’s Portia, fulfilled their roles admirably, although too many batsmen seemed to think that appealing to the latter to be merciful was going to save their bacon.  Reminders to her that mercy, according to her own words, “droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, upon the place beneath” only led to their wickets doing the dropping.

The aforementioned Hamlet was supposed to open the batting for the Shakespeareans, but his partner, King Lear, found himself alone at the crease while Hamlet stayed behind in the Pavilion mulling over the wisdom of whether to take part. He was heard muttering: “To bat or not to bat” before delivering a soliloquy to nobody in particular. The Man of Law knew the laws of cricket inside out and invoked the little-used three-minute rule to declare that Hamlet had forfeited his wicket by not turning up.

Apart from the Prince of Denmark, players on both sides managed to find some unusual ways of getting out. The Chaucereans made the mistake of putting the Wife of Bath, who was never the most athletic of cricketers, on to bowl, and her first effort was so slow that the ball failed to reach the batsman, who was Macbeth. Just like Hamlet he felt a soliloquy coming on and strode out to meet the red object with the words: “Is this a cricket ball which I see before me, the seam toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.” Unfortunately he did precisely that and was adjudged out “handled the ball”.

Richard III’s innings was short and his defeat was perhaps inevitable. Having been pummelled by lots of short-pitched bowling from unscrupulous Chaucereans such as the Monk and the Friar he decided that his only way of scoring any runs would be by preventing the fielders from getting close to the ball should he ever manage to hit it. When this happened at long last he called out “A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!” and three nags from a neighbouring field responded to his call by leaping on to the pitch and generally getting in the way. Portia and the Man of Law had a long debate over whether this constituted “obstructing the field”. They finally decided that it did and sent Richard on his way back to the Pavilion.

Chaucer’s Knight started his innings well enough, putting up a stout defence to anything that the Shakespearean bowlers could hurl at him. However, when he played a shot that sent the ball towards the covers he got a sudden rush of blood to the head and charged off after it. On reaching the ball he gave it another whack that sent it over the boundary but all to no avail. He was dismissed by Portia for “hitting the ball twice”.

The match might have reached a conclusion had it not been abandoned due to the riot that broke out in the beer tent. Tensions had been growing all day due to the disagreement between Harry Bailey, mine host of the Tabard Inn, Southwark, and Mistress Quickly of the Boar’s Head Tavern. The task of running the beer tent – and collecting the substantial profits - had traditionally been alternated between the two with Harry having the job in odd years and Mistress Quickly running the show in even years. However, Harry had been away on yet another pilgrimage last year so Mistress Quickly had filled the breach. Harry now expected to take his turn, but this was – as Mistress Quickly pointed out – an even year and therefore she had the right to do the job.

An uneasy truce was agreed whereby both innkeepers operated inside the tent, each selling their own beer. However, this led to considerable competition with each claiming that their beer was better than the opposition’s. Mistress Quickly was particularly incensed when Sir John Falstaff bought beer from Harry Bailey rather than herself. Sir John pointed out that he was only sampling the other side’s product so that he could make a fair comparison, but her ladyship regarded this as a form of treachery.

As it happened, most of the beer tent customers followed Sir John’s example, this including a steady stream of dismissed batsmen who sought to drown their sorrows as a way of getting over what they saw as grave injustices. Because the beer on offer at the two stalls was actually exactly the same stuff – due to a crafty supply deal organised by the Pardoner – the customers had to keep buying more from each bar before they could make up their minds which was better. The net result was that far more beer was drunk than was good for anyone – apart, that is, from the two sellers.

Hence the riot. However, as fists flew and chairs were hurled across the tent and cricket field, all the participants took the view that getting out on the field was nothing like as satisfying as getting out of one’s head in the beer tent afterwards.

And next year? Probably a repeat performance.

© John Welford