Storm in the Sallows: Part 2
Last week, in a rather unconventional departure from the normal format, this column turned into a story. Mole was fed up with spring cleaning; vole was new to the river and finding boating a challenge and toad had got a new car. This week we join the trio once again to finish this particular tale.
…On down the road the trio raced. Clouds of tyre smoke billowed as the little red sports car chased around corners of the narrow country lanes and bluebells shook their heads disapprovingly as the car raced past. Mole and Vole clung on to the dashboard out of sheer fright.
“Weh-hey,” cheered Toad, “Parp-parp!”
“Ahhhh!” chorused Mole and Vole.
The little car sped onto the big main road, and onwards towards the City. Past Isca airport they charged, feeling the downdraft of a large aeroplane as it crept overhead to land. As the speedo needle pushed into three figures, Toad looked nonchalantly over to the blanching pair beside him.
“This is great isn’t it?” Enquired the Toad.
“Ahhhhh…” chimed the pair, unable to make an intelligible sound.
The car weaved its way through traffic as the group approached the city edge. The main road dropped to pass beneath the motorway and, while the other cars slowed for the junction, Toad pushed on unperturbed. The car burst through the junction in a bright double flash of lights.
“Oh deary me,” managed the mole. “That’ll be costly.”
“Worry not dear friend Mole,” encouraged Toad, “its only money!”
Toad’s attention was caught momentarily by the sight of his reflection in an office window, he turned to check himself in the glass when the nearside wheel of the sports car caught the curb-stone edge. The car veered away to the right, Toad over compensated and it whipped back to the left and charged over the grass, down a hill towards a huge glass building. The brakes screeched for the first time in their entire journey, Toad had finally found what the third pedal was for amongst his large webbed feet, but there was no grip on the slippery grass and the car slid on, straight into a set of large double doors.
Smash! The car ended up steaming gently, half inside the massive glass atrium of the Met Office. A large burly man in an officious dark blue sweater, trousers and angular hat, loomed above the open-topped car at the hapless three beneath. He sucked his teeth:
“Tsssss, you bays got an appointment?” he enquired.
*
Vole and Mole were allowed to leave Isca police station later that evening after a few difficult hours explaining their role as passengers in the high-speed escapade. Police Sergeant Doyle was a cheerful young officer and explained with a little too much enthusiasm that Toad was facing a severe sentence, as the local constabulary held a list of traffic offences attributed to Toad ‘as long as his arm’ and Sergent Doyle had very long arms. And HUGE feet.
Outside the Police Station Vole and Mole discussed their options.
“I say we devise an escape plan,” encouraged Vole, the adrenalin coursing through his veins making him feel somewhat lightheaded.
“Nonsense,” countered Mole, “We need a nice cup of tea and a sit down, and some sensible advice. You’ve had too much excitement for one day, we need to visit Badger. He’ll know what to do.”
A large cream and red bus pulled up to the stop alongside the pair, its illuminated destination sign glowed ‘X53’ in the twilight. Mole hopped on to the bus and dragged Vole on after him.
“Two singles to Holyford Woods please driver,” asked the Mole.
A look of consternation crossed the bus driver’s face as the voluminous folds of his brow creased with the urgency of a lethargic glacier. “Wha?” expressed the driver.
“I am sorry, Fleet Heights please, on the A3052.”
Frown…
“I’ll just ring the bell, Fleet please. Near the river Axe?” conceded Mole.
Mole gave up with the exchange and thrust some cash at the driver, and both of them dashed up the stairs to sit at the front of the top deck. The bus pulled away and Mole commented how convenient this bus service was for accessing one of the nicest woodland spots in the District. A young, rather dashing chap dressed in the green and khaki uniform of a countryside ranger beamed proudly a few seats behind the pair, obviously pleased with this impromptu and impartial endorsement of the Local Nature Reserve.
*
A little while later, after an absorbing journey through the countryside which passed in a jiffy, Mole rang the bell and the bus pulled up to the side of the road. Mole and Vole charged down the stairs and out of the open doors.
“Oh you mean Seaton Heights!” exclaimed the driver to the back of Mole and Vole’s heads. But the pair were already out of earshot and running down the steep hill towards Badger’s house.
“If you’d said Seaton Heights, I’d have known where you meant,” mumbled the driver to himself, “never heard of Fleet, those two must be new around here.”
*
Mole and Vole found themselves rapping on a large wooden door for the second time that day. Looking rather dishevelled in the dimpsy evening light, they waited impatiently for the door of Badger’s set to be opened. Vole nibbled a wood sorrel leaf as the first hunger pangs of the afternoon set in.
“Now Vole,” said Mole “Badger isn’t one for small talk, so leave the chat to me.”
“Be my guest old fruit,” conceded Vole. “I’ve had more than my fill of excitement for one day.”
*
We leave our familiar friends at this point, if you would like to find out how their adventure concludes, log on to my East Devon Ranger blog on Devon24.co.uk where I will post the ending.
The reason why I have penned this little story is because it is the centenary of the publication of Kenneth Grahame’s classic “The Wind in the Willows”. To celebrate this, we are organising a family festival day at Escot House on Sunday 19th July, when we will be turning the house into Toad Hall. People are invited to come along and meet all the characters in the flesh, take part in fun events along the river, including swamp walks, river dipping, badge making and river crafts. And a local Theatre company will be performing a new take on the classic story.
For more information on the Wind in the Willows day, please contact the Countryside Service at the District Council on 01395 517557.