“T’ lads ‘ave buggered off daan t’ allotment agayen. Appen they’ll be up ter no good!” says Sally, Bumpy Awkright’s fiancée, ter Paula, me mate Joe Sykes’s missus.
“Good” replies Paula, “they’ll not be under us feet whilst we discuss tha pendin’ nuptials wi ter ladies fra t’ church committee. Appen they’ll be arrivin’ soon – in fact ah think ah can feel a chill in t’ atmosphere aalready!”
“Ah’ve ‘eard they’re legendary in theyer dowerness! Is it true?”enquired Sally.
“Aye” says Paula, “t’ ladies church committee are aalmost biblical in theyer strictness. Ah’d rather one o’ t’ plagues o’ Egypt visit upon us than Mary, Mable an’ Big Ron’s wife Margaret. But appen they is reight influential in t’ community – an if tha can get theyer blessing fer tha weddin’, they can move maauntains f’ thee in nobbut a blink o’ an eye! Appen they’re not known as t’ Pickford Sisters f’ nowt!”
“Mary, Mable an’ Margaret” says Sally, “they saand like a trio o’ dredgin’ booats fra t’ Leeds Liverpool Canal.”
“Mary, Mable an’ Margaret” says Sally, “they saand like a trio o’ dredgin’ booats fra t’ Leeds Liverpool Canal.”
“Appen they bloody look like a trio o’ dredgin’ booats fra t’ Leeds Liverpool Canal an aal,” says Paula, “they is allus dressed in black fra head to toe.”
“Do they allus travel araand in separate taxis?” asked Sally pearin’ aat t’ window.
“Aye” says Paula, “tis f’ same reason members o’ t’ royal family travel in separate aircraft – so if one ‘as an accident like, ther’s allus sumone left ter carry on bein’ miserable!”
“They can’t be that bad, shuerly?” asked Sally.
“Put it this way” says Paula, “when they visited our ‘ouse afore Joe an’ me got hitched, strange things started ter happen. T’ water curdled in t’ goldfish bowl, t’ bantams stopped layin’ eggs, t’ pidgeons stopped comin’ ’ome – an’ so did me dad! But ah guess ivvery claad ‘as a silver lining.”
“Aye” says Paula, “tis f’ same reason members o’ t’ royal family travel in separate aircraft – so if one ‘as an accident like, ther’s allus sumone left ter carry on bein’ miserable!”
“They can’t be that bad, shuerly?” asked Sally.
“Put it this way” says Paula, “when they visited our ‘ouse afore Joe an’ me got hitched, strange things started ter happen. T’ water curdled in t’ goldfish bowl, t’ bantams stopped layin’ eggs, t’ pidgeons stopped comin’ ’ome – an’ so did me dad! But ah guess ivvery claad ‘as a silver lining.”
“Better be on us best behaviour then” says Sally, “appen they is gatherin’ aatside as us speak!”
A few minutes later, t’ three ladies oo lunch in t’ name o’ t’ Lord, had taken ownership o’ t’ settee an wer’ loookin foward ter suppin’ Yorkshire Tea fra Sally’s best china cups – wi a few ‘ome med canapés on t’ side.
“Should we say Grace fust?” asked Paula.
“Aye” says Mary standin’ up, wi her hands together, an’ eyes raised towards t’ ‘eavens.
“Oh Heavenly Father, ‘avin’ recently completed t’ last rights o’ aah dear sister Edna, oo, thru ‘er own carelessness, stepped aat fra t’ number 32 bus ter Leeds, wi aat lookin’, only ter get run daan by an Eddie Stobart lorry - we nah sit daan together wi these two young lasses, in thy presence, at this table, groanin wi a repast that thy hast in thy magnificence provided. We thank thee Lord f’ t’ blessin’ o’ good ‘ealth (recently deceased excepted), f’ t’ individual trifles an t’ fine chopped piccalilli, an’ we pray that in thy infinite wisdom an’ mercy, t’ pork pies will be fresher ‘an they wer at cousin Winnie’s funeral last Whitsuntide. Amen!”
“Amen!”
A few minutes later, t’ three ladies oo lunch in t’ name o’ t’ Lord, had taken ownership o’ t’ settee an wer’ loookin foward ter suppin’ Yorkshire Tea fra Sally’s best china cups – wi a few ‘ome med canapés on t’ side.
“Should we say Grace fust?” asked Paula.
“Aye” says Mary standin’ up, wi her hands together, an’ eyes raised towards t’ ‘eavens.
“Oh Heavenly Father, ‘avin’ recently completed t’ last rights o’ aah dear sister Edna, oo, thru ‘er own carelessness, stepped aat fra t’ number 32 bus ter Leeds, wi aat lookin’, only ter get run daan by an Eddie Stobart lorry - we nah sit daan together wi these two young lasses, in thy presence, at this table, groanin wi a repast that thy hast in thy magnificence provided. We thank thee Lord f’ t’ blessin’ o’ good ‘ealth (recently deceased excepted), f’ t’ individual trifles an t’ fine chopped piccalilli, an’ we pray that in thy infinite wisdom an’ mercy, t’ pork pies will be fresher ‘an they wer at cousin Winnie’s funeral last Whitsuntide. Amen!”
“Amen!”
“So young lady” says Mary turnin’ ter Sally, “tha must be that spotty oik Bumpy Awkright’s fiancée then?”
This wer not t’ opening comment Sally ‘ad bin expecting fra such a supposedly virtuous citizen!
This wer not t’ opening comment Sally ‘ad bin expecting fra such a supposedly virtuous citizen!
“Yes maam” says Sally.
“Well ah ‘ope tha ‘asn’t got a big bust under that frock young lady!” says Mary.
“Ah beg tha ardon?” says Sally, a tad tekken aback f’ a second time.
“Ah can’t abide young women wi big busts! Big busts allus addle lads minds!” says Mary.
“In my day, young women dint ‘ave big busts!” agreed Mable, nodding continuously.
“Really?” says Sally, “What did they ‘ave then?”
“Modesty” says Margaret. “Appen they waited until they wer married ‘till they ‘ad big busts!”
“Well tha dunt ‘ave ter worry abaat a big bust wi aah Sally” interjected Paula. “An appen Bumpy’s got that well in hand onnyroad!”
“In my day, young women dint ‘ave big busts!” agreed Mable, nodding continuously.
“Really?” says Sally, “What did they ‘ave then?”
“Modesty” says Margaret. “Appen they waited until they wer married ‘till they ‘ad big busts!”
“Well tha dunt ‘ave ter worry abaat a big bust wi aah Sally” interjected Paula. “An appen Bumpy’s got that well in hand onnyroad!”
A silent look o’ disgust rippled up an daan t’ settee like oil in a wave machine!
“Does ‘e treat thee reight?” says Mary.
“Oh yes!” says Sally. “In fact e’s quite t’ gentleman! ‘e opens t’ door f’ me, ‘e takes me coat an’ ‘angs it up f’ me, an’ ‘e allus pulls aat a chair f’ me in restaurants. Ah reckon ah’ve landed a good un theyer!”
“Does ‘e treat thee reight?” says Mary.
“Oh yes!” says Sally. “In fact e’s quite t’ gentleman! ‘e opens t’ door f’ me, ‘e takes me coat an’ ‘angs it up f’ me, an’ ‘e allus pulls aat a chair f’ me in restaurants. Ah reckon ah’ve landed a good un theyer!”
“The dirty bastard!” say t’ three women in chorus.
“Wot? Wots tha mean dirty bastard?” asks Sally, (nah genuinely in shock).
“That’s aal put on!” says Mary.
“ ‘e jus’ wants ter play hide t’ sausage” says Margaret.
“Nooo! Not aal men are sex maniacs tha kno’s – especially Bumpy Awkright.” says Paula. “Jus’ gi Sally ‘er chance ter speak! Wot is t’ Bible says? Oh aye – ‘let she oo ‘as not sinned, cast t’ fust stone’.”
“Oh, very well” says Mary.
“Ah can’t wait ter get married” says Sally tryin’ ter move t’ conversation along like. “I can’t sleep f’ thinkin’ abaat it. Hour atter hour, tossin’ an’ turnin’. Ah can see ‘im walkin’ daan t’ isle wi me on ‘is arm, in ‘is best starched white shirt, an’ Conny Watkinson lookin’ on livid coz ‘e chose me ova ‘er!”
“Aww, that’s nice!” says Mable.
“Atter t’ church, ah’m plannin’ a pucker sit daan reception wi triangular Salmon Sandwiches, Parkin, Yorkshire Brack, an’ enuf room f’ tha elbows! An atter that, a full scale honeymoon, wi clean pajamas an no holds barred - wayer we can jus’ be us sens an get crackin’.”
“Nooo! Not aal men are sex maniacs tha kno’s – especially Bumpy Awkright.” says Paula. “Jus’ gi Sally ‘er chance ter speak! Wot is t’ Bible says? Oh aye – ‘let she oo ‘as not sinned, cast t’ fust stone’.”
“Oh, very well” says Mary.
“Ah can’t wait ter get married” says Sally tryin’ ter move t’ conversation along like. “I can’t sleep f’ thinkin’ abaat it. Hour atter hour, tossin’ an’ turnin’. Ah can see ‘im walkin’ daan t’ isle wi me on ‘is arm, in ‘is best starched white shirt, an’ Conny Watkinson lookin’ on livid coz ‘e chose me ova ‘er!”
“Aww, that’s nice!” says Mable.
“Atter t’ church, ah’m plannin’ a pucker sit daan reception wi triangular Salmon Sandwiches, Parkin, Yorkshire Brack, an’ enuf room f’ tha elbows! An atter that, a full scale honeymoon, wi clean pajamas an no holds barred - wayer we can jus’ be us sens an get crackin’.”
“Get crackin?” says Mary almost spillin’ ‘er tea on t’ cat. “Wot a way ter describe it. T’ world’s greatest love poets ‘ave worked theyer fingers ter t’ bone, tryin’ not ter be so direct an’offend t’ ears o’ t’ Lord - an’ wot does tha cum aat wi? Get crackin! By ecker like, tha’s only bin engaged a shuart while an’ tha’s not got a scrap o’ romance left in thee aalready.”
“Oh sorry, ah didn’t mean nothin’ by it” says Sally lookin’ at t’ floor f’ inspiration. “Appen ah jus’ meant ah’m keen ter start a family like!”
“Ahh, so tha likes children then?” says Mary. “At least that’s summat!”
“Ahh, so tha likes children then?” says Mary. “At least that’s summat!”
“Ah wer a child once” says Mable, “tho ah weren’t onny gud at it! In one single year ah had mumps, measles, whooping cough, scarlet fever, suspected chicken pocks an’ three broken limbs. Appen ah wer’ lucky ter survive!”
“T’ good Lord does indeed work in mysterious ways!” says Mary.
“Oh yes!” says Sally. “Ah want three bairns. One o’ each kind, like. Appen they bring summat reight special in ter a home: laughter, tears, love, bonding an’ family values!”
“ An’ noise, carpet stains, a variety of odours!” added Margaret quietly.
“Oh yes!” says Sally. “Ah want three bairns. One o’ each kind, like. Appen they bring summat reight special in ter a home: laughter, tears, love, bonding an’ family values!”
“ An’ noise, carpet stains, a variety of odours!” added Margaret quietly.
“An’ tha’s planning a honeymoon?” says Mary, a little haughtily like. “In my day tha wer lucky t’ get a honeymoon!”
“Yes, appen ah wer thinkin’ abaat Spain!” says Sally.
“Spain, Spain?” say Mary getting aal agitated agayen. “I wudn’t recommend Spain! Tis far too ‘ot is Spain!”
“Spain, Spain?” say Mary getting aal agitated agayen. “I wudn’t recommend Spain! Tis far too ‘ot is Spain!”
“Heat inflames t’ passions an’ rouses t’ desires!” says Mable, doing t’ nodding thing agayen.
“Tha shud go sum wayer reight cowd” says Margaret adding ‘er ten pennies-worth. “Big Ron an me scrimped an’ saved for years ter affoard a week in Scarborough in mid January. Ah didn’t tek me mittens off until t’ last neight!’ An that wer only t’ mend a puncture in Big Ron’s sidecar.”
“Ee, just t’ thowatt o’ Scarborough in mid January meks me feel reight parky” says Mable. “Ast tha got onny Sherry ter warem a pooar Christian soul oo’s feelin’ a tad nesh?”
“Ere, ah already ‘ad it ready an’ waitin’ f’ thee!” says Paula magically materialisin’ next ter ‘er wi a decanter an’ three very large, very full, Sherry glasses!”
“Tha shud go sum wayer reight cowd” says Margaret adding ‘er ten pennies-worth. “Big Ron an me scrimped an’ saved for years ter affoard a week in Scarborough in mid January. Ah didn’t tek me mittens off until t’ last neight!’ An that wer only t’ mend a puncture in Big Ron’s sidecar.”
“Ee, just t’ thowatt o’ Scarborough in mid January meks me feel reight parky” says Mable. “Ast tha got onny Sherry ter warem a pooar Christian soul oo’s feelin’ a tad nesh?”
“Ere, ah already ‘ad it ready an’ waitin’ f’ thee!” says Paula magically materialisin’ next ter ‘er wi a decanter an’ three very large, very full, Sherry glasses!”
“Ah’ve often wunded wot it’ll be like on t’ fust neight o’ us honey moon?” says Sally (ignoring t’ three paragons of virtue oo wer neckin’ theyer glasses faster than a whistler oo’d bin eatin’ crackers in t’ desert). “Ah’ve got it aal planned aat! They’ll be mandolins playin’ in t’ soft Spanish moonlight. We won’t be eatin’ no garlic, coz we’ll choose a hotel wot does real food wi thumb sized chips an’ a choice o’ veg’. We’ll eat on t’ veranda o’ us hotel room underneath t’ twinklin’ stars, ova lookin’ us private swimmin’ pool, whilst suppin’ real champagne wi real bubbles. An then later, wen we’ve drunk us horlics an’ taken us iron tablets, ah’ll nip int’ bathroom an slip in ter me wet look negligee, then climb int’ bed an’ watch ‘im get undressed, mekin shuer ‘e turns ‘is back on me at t’ last second – so ah don’t see ‘is surprise!”
“A surprise? Well ah’ve ‘eard it called sum things - but ‘appen that caps t’ lot!” says Margaret, her words already sounding mooar than a tad slurred!
“So ‘e’s a bit of a show off like?” asks Mary.
“Oo Bumpy?” says Sally shocked. “No ‘e’s really quite innocent. In fact, appen we’re both virgins!”
“A surprise? Well ah’ve ‘eard it called sum things - but ‘appen that caps t’ lot!” says Margaret, her words already sounding mooar than a tad slurred!
“So ‘e’s a bit of a show off like?” asks Mary.
“Oo Bumpy?” says Sally shocked. “No ‘e’s really quite innocent. In fact, appen we’re both virgins!”
“Well ah’ll go ter t’ foot o’ our stairs!” says Mary.
“Kinell! Two virgins in Topcliffe!?? Oo’d a believed it?” says Margaret, now on her third glass o’ sherry.
“Kinell! Two virgins in Topcliffe!?? Oo’d a believed it?” says Margaret, now on her third glass o’ sherry.
“Men prefer to marry virgins” says Mable matter o’ factly, “tis coz they can’t stand criticism!
“Dust tha think me ‘an Bumpy are a couple o’ funny-ossities then?” asks Sally
“Ow dust tha mean, lass?”says Mary, whilst givin’ Margaret t’ evil eye f’ usin’ bad language.
“Plannin’ on goin’ ter us nuptial bed wi aat ‘avin’ tried ter goods fust?”says Sally.
“Ah reckon t’ Lord ‘ll be reight praad o’ thee f’ waitin’ lass!” says Mable.
“Dust tha think me ‘an Bumpy are a couple o’ funny-ossities then?” asks Sally
“Ow dust tha mean, lass?”says Mary, whilst givin’ Margaret t’ evil eye f’ usin’ bad language.
“Plannin’ on goin’ ter us nuptial bed wi aat ‘avin’ tried ter goods fust?”says Sally.
“Ah reckon t’ Lord ‘ll be reight praad o’ thee f’ waitin’ lass!” says Mable.
“Well if tha wants my opinion, tha dun’t buy a car wi aat ‘avin’ a trial run fust like! “says Margaret. “Wud be a bit o’ a bugger if t’ piston wudn’t fire ooer t’ ball joints fell off at t’ fust try! Reckon it’d be a long night on t’ hard shoulder if that ‘appened!”
“Ah jus’ wanna be loved” says Sally, exasperated. “An appreciated. An’ tekken aat a bit! Is that too much ter ask fooar?”
“Ah once ‘ad a sheep dog like that!” says Margaret. “It wer easier ter train than me ‘usband . Took me years ter get Big Ron ter bring me mi chuffin slippers!”
“Conjugal bliss ‘as a lot ter answer fer in t’ history o’ t’ worlds misery!” says Mary, stoically. “Tis a vastly over rated past time. All that grunting an’ groanin’!”
“But it’s damned good exercise!” says Margaret. “Baat a thousand calories a ...”
“Ah jus’ wanna be loved” says Sally, exasperated. “An appreciated. An’ tekken aat a bit! Is that too much ter ask fooar?”
“Ah once ‘ad a sheep dog like that!” says Margaret. “It wer easier ter train than me ‘usband . Took me years ter get Big Ron ter bring me mi chuffin slippers!”
“Conjugal bliss ‘as a lot ter answer fer in t’ history o’ t’ worlds misery!” says Mary, stoically. “Tis a vastly over rated past time. All that grunting an’ groanin’!”
“But it’s damned good exercise!” says Margaret. “Baat a thousand calories a ...”
“That’s enuf o’ that!” says Mary. “Ah’ve ‘eard it said, that ivvery time tha ‘as a kiss, tha teks abaat a second off tha life expectancy! An if tha’s daft enuf ter enjoy sex, that’s a whole four minutes daan t’ swanny!”
“Well on them grounds appen tha’ll be bloody immortal!” says Margaret.
“Ist tha plannin’ ter ‘ave children straight away like , ooer will tha be usin’ them modern condominium thingies?” asked Mary , oo’d bin tryin’ ter keep up wi Margaret in t’ swilling Sherry stakes.
“Condoms Mable” says Margaret. “Theyer called condoms!”
“Well... although ‘e’s still a virgin” says Sally, “Bumpy says ‘e’s against ‘em on principle!”
“Oh really?” says Mary wi ‘er nose up in t’ air like she’d caught a bad smell.
“Ay, ‘e reckons it wud be like ‘avin’ a bath wi ‘is socks on!” replied Sally afore breaking into fits o’ giggles.
“Wot ivver’s got in ter thee nah lass?” snapped Mary, irritably.
“Ah wer’ just picturin’ ‘im wearin’ a condom” says Sally. “It’d be like a little bank robber.”
“Gi’ me t’ money or ah’ll shoot!” quipped Margaret.
“Ah can see t’ posters nah” says Mable allowing the alcohol to sweep her along wi t’ spirit o’ t’ conversation. “Wanted, Cyclops! Small but deadly, hardened criminal!”
“Condoms Mable” says Margaret. “Theyer called condoms!”
“Well... although ‘e’s still a virgin” says Sally, “Bumpy says ‘e’s against ‘em on principle!”
“Oh really?” says Mary wi ‘er nose up in t’ air like she’d caught a bad smell.
“Ay, ‘e reckons it wud be like ‘avin’ a bath wi ‘is socks on!” replied Sally afore breaking into fits o’ giggles.
“Wot ivver’s got in ter thee nah lass?” snapped Mary, irritably.
“Ah wer’ just picturin’ ‘im wearin’ a condom” says Sally. “It’d be like a little bank robber.”
“Gi’ me t’ money or ah’ll shoot!” quipped Margaret.
“Ah can see t’ posters nah” says Mable allowing the alcohol to sweep her along wi t’ spirit o’ t’ conversation. “Wanted, Cyclops! Small but deadly, hardened criminal!”
“O’ course tha does realise, dunt tha lass” says Margaret,” if tha goes commando, t’ chances o’ becomin’ stagnant substantially increases!”
“T’ word is pregnant Margaret, not stagnant!” says Mary beginning to get rattled.
“Speak f’ tha sen!” says Margaret.
“Speak f’ tha sen!” says Margaret.
“Wot’s it like ‘avin’ kids?” asks Sally.
“Ah remember bein’ pregnant wi me fust un” says Margaret. “Sick ivvery mornin’ fer months. Huge tummy, swollen feet, an achin’ back, an’ wen ah wer ready ter welp, ah wer in labour so long they ‘ad ter shave me twice.”
“Wot did tha’ ‘ope it’d be?” says Sally.
“ Big Ron’s” says Margaret.
“Appen tha ‘ad it easy!” says Paula. “Our Eric wer’ 25 lbs, ‘e wer. Too big fer me ter deliver by me sen. T’ doctors cudn’t even get ‘im aat wi’ forceps. At one point ah thowatt they wer goin’ f’ a tow truck an’ a rope. By t’ end, me wotsit wer as wide as t’ arrivals gate at Leeds Bradford Airport! 125 stitches ah had. Appen ah cud walk daan both sides o’ market street at t’ same time!”
“Ladies, ladies” says Mary. “Tha’s gonna terrify t’ pooar lass into abstinence afore she’s even lost ‘er virginity!”
“She’s not wrong tha knows” says Mable wistfully. “Appen tha dunt know wot love is ’til tha becum a parent an’ ‘ave ter fish a turd aat o’ t’ bathtub.”
This wer follud by a few moments silence .
This wer follud by a few moments silence .
“Tha dun’t need kids ter find ‘appiness” says Mary. “T’ word o’ t’ Lord is aal t’ sustenance one needs!”
“Bollocks!” says Margaret. “True ‘appiness is wen tha marries a bloke f’ love, an’ then finds aat later ‘e’s chuffin’ loaded!”
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