And so on, all ruddy week long. Bad enough thet mah FARMER ON BOARD sticker peeled off the beck of mah Massey; mah ruddy yers are ready to peel off as well from listenin’ to every man ‘n’ ‘is penting dog moanin’ ‘baht the heat.
Big Ian’s hed enough as well.
‘Will you all just shut up!’ he yelled on Tuesday, after a whole day spent pullin’ the beer pumps wharl listenin’ to people tuggin’ et their collars and moppin’ their brows. ‘You spend narnty-farve percent of the year moanin’ ‘baht how you wish it was summer, and the minute the sun gets ‘er flet cap in place you start moanin’ ‘baht thet too! Wanna swap places?’
Well he hed a point. Still, ah don’t think he was rart to get Miguel in thet headlock after complainin’ thet ‘is beer was too warm. The state of Big Ian’s armpits as well; Miguel looked lark he’d just come aht of the sea when eventually we persuaded the big fella to let ‘im go.
‘Cos he’s fond of a good headlock is Big Ian – a throwbeck to ‘is brief spell as an amateur wrestler up the Merton. Many’s the tarm ah’d fahnd mahself caught in one of ‘is grips, acknowledging ‘is playfulness with a thumbs-up wharl praying fer release. Never pleasant.
Anyway, somethin’ hed struck me as ah’d stared at Miguel’s tomato-red face gurnin’ aht from Big Ian’s bar-ceps. ‘Cos these heatwaves feel a bit lark nature’s equivalent of one of Big Ian’s holds…fun at first, despart the soakin’ and the smelliness, but also a little bit scary, especially given all these new records thet keep getting’ broken fer hottest this or warmest thet.
‘Three cheers fer clarmate change!’ the leds hed laughed, once we’d ferried our parnts aht to sit arahnd the fen the landlord hed set up in the beer garden. ‘And three cheers fer Big Ian what’s stuck beharnd the bar!’
Only ah weren’t cheerin’, and neither was Miguel. Both of us was thinkin’ abaht Big Ian’s arms and what would hev happened if we hedn’t been there to prah ‘im off.
And as ah looked up et the sun ah could hev sworn it winked dahn et me…
‘What you frownin’ for, Hedley?’ Pip hed asked.
‘Nothin’ sheg, ah said, runnin’ a finger under me collar. ‘Hot, eh?’
