The village Fair
It was no fantasy Grandad's
marrow it was a real Beauty. Mind
you it should have been the fuss he
made of it. Before he ate his
breakfast he'd always go down to
see if it had grown any more. He
reckoned he fed it on milk and
honey to get it that size.
Joe Stubbs a neighbour had
become very interested in what
Grandad was growing for the local
fair. I didn't like Joe he gave me the
creeps I always felt uncomfortable
in this pretentious little man's
presence. Everything about him
seemed so false and artificial.
A few days ago he'd been caught
snooping around in the garden with
no invite. He'd been very secretive
about what he himself was going to
enter in the vegetable section at the
fair. Mick, Grandad's mate had
whispered that Joe was growing a
marrow himself.
Grandad was feeling very excited,
the fair was the high light of his year
when he could show off his prize
marrow. I'd once again
volunteered to lend a hand.
It was the morning before the
annual event and Grandad had not
returned to the house for his
breakfast.Concerned, I made my
way down the garden to find him
squatting down with his face in his
hands sobbing.
In front of him was his beautiful
marrow all bruised and battered. It
was too damaged to be rescued. I
had no doubts who had done this
dispicable thing, it had to be Joe
Stubbs he was the only one to see
Grandad's prize marrow.
"Right" I mumbled under my
breath " Two can play this game."
On the big day I'd arrived early at
the fair to help set up the long tables
to put the exhibits on. I tucked the
holdall that had been carrying some
sheets under the table.
There were the same old familiar
faces all presenting their fine crops
from the straightest runner beans to
the heaviest cabbage.
"Where's Bills marrow this year,"
Mick asked loudly.
" Its been vandalised," I told him.
The contestents were genuinely
flabberghasted at the news. All but
one who had a smirk on his face
that didn't go unnoticed by me.
I had a plan that would wipe that
smirk away.
Every year a speech was held
before the judging began. By
experience I knew that this was the
moment when all eyes would be on
the speaker and the only time the
exhibits were not fully guarded.
I grabbed the moment and lifted
Joes marrow off the stand and slid it
under the table into my holdall I
then replaced it with a smaller one
of Grandad's.
Then everyone had to leave the
marquee while the exhibits were
judged. Well the look on Joes face
was a picture when he returned to
find he hadn't come anywhere.
"You are a load of incompetant
Bafoons! " he yelled. "That not my
marrow. What you done with my
marrow?"
"Sir kindly come with us quietly"
the security guards said as they led
the furious Joe away.
After the show I pushed the dirty
sheets into my bag and made my
way home.
There was one more thing I had to
do. Ring Joe and console him ha!
ha! I would invite him round for a
meal.
So there I was in the kitchen
having skinned the marrow and was
was looking at it simmering in the
pot when the door bell rang. "I hope
Joe likes marrow," I said to
Grandad. I know I was going to
enjoy it, especialy this one.
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