EVERY VILLAGE HAS ONE - by John Phillips

Bill had moved into this area of rural England in the autumn, but now as spring approached and he had settled into his new job and surroundings his attention turned back to his vintage motorcycles. The area was ideal for runs, lots of quiet country roads, well signposted, and plenty of picturesque small villages.

The first machine out was an old Coventry Eagle Auto-ette, 98cc and pedals, the ideal pottering about machine, just the job for getting to know the immediate area, which in no time is exactly what Bill did, now feeling confident and more adventurous he would load the Eagle into the back of his van, and armed with a local map, head out into the surrounding countryside. As the weather got better the jaunts got further afield.

It was on one of these runs that Bill's navigation went astray, up till now it had been pretty straightforward, take the van to a village, park in the local village hall car park, get out a map, work out a circular route through three or four villages, make a note of the village names and rely on the signposts.

Today it was start at Ambleford, then Stonyway, Elmbridge, then Pigton and back to the van at Ambleford. All went well until just after Stonyway when there suddenly appeared a fork in the road and no signpost, something that had not happened before as the roads around this part of the world always seemed to be very well marked. The Eagle was propped up against the hedge bank while Bill searched through his pockets for the map, but of no avail as it was sitting in the van. Deciding on the left-hand fork Bill returned to the Eagle to find a spreading pool of two stroke mix surrounding the bike, a quick tap released the sticking float and a check revealed half a tank left, plenty to finish the run as planned, so Bill pushed onwards.

Much further than expected a small village suddenly appeared, but still no signposts! Or village name sign, "what now" pondered Bill "press on, or turn back" just then a solitary figure ambled into view, Bill put the Eagle on the stand and crossed the road, "Excuse me, is this Elmbridge?" asked Bill. "No" replied the local "it's Grimby...I think".

Now Bill knew that Grimby was quite a large town some miles to the north and was just about to have a look around when another local appeared, seeing the puzzled look on Bill's face he turned to the first local and said "now then Cyril what have you been telling this gentleman?" Cyril seemed a bit confused, and the second local who introduced himself as Simon went on to apologise for Cyril and explain that he was a bit simple and in fact the village was Copenwood, and Elmsbridge was in fact two miles further on. Simon then went on to tell Bill how they were from Grimby and on a day out had by accident come across the village, liking the look of the place had decided to settle there, the deciding factor being the vacancy for a village idiot, and Cyril filled the job requirements nicely.

Bill by this time had decided that he was having his leg pulled by a couple of local jokers and decided not to spoil their fun and play along, and to this end went on to explain to Cyril (the new proclaimed village idiot), how he had parked his van at Ambleford, then rode round in a circle on the Eagle to end up back where he had started, but how on this occasion had left his map in the van, lost half his petrol, and took a wrong turning, ending up in the wrong village. This amused Cyril no end, and he seemed very happy, chuckling away to himself, until Bill made a move to resume his journey, then a worried look came over Cyril's face and he pointed to the large pool of petrol spreading from the Eagle.

With very little petrol left in the tank Bill put on a cheery grin and told Cyril not to worry as he could always pedal, but this did not seem to alleviate Cyril's worried look. As Bill departed down the road pedaling to help the petrol consumption, and wondering how far he would get on the remaining petrol, he glanced back to see Simon putting a comforting arm around Cyril's shoulder and telling him not to worry. "It's alright for you" said the village idiot, watching Bill pedal off into the distance "BUT I THINK THAT FELLOW IS AFTER MY JOB."