Well, believe me I am not used to being stood up! I felt a right Aunt Sally waiting outside the pub like Billy no mates sipping a lemonade. People were beginning to stare. I was all dressed up for a bit of a boogie at Clift Meadow. Not my everyday wear and was feeling conspicuous in my black leggings and my party thong. Fred is a bit unreliable at the best of times but this was a step too far.
So I set off back to Bramley, car horns beeping was so embarrassing. I made it to Folly farm and saw Bill on his tractor. I explained how I had been stood up and hoped he would take pity on me, but he said he couldn’t leave his tractor as he was baby sitting a Bramley Duck.
So I hobbled on. Think I had a splinter in my shoe. I was just about to turn into Folly Lane and give Fred a piece of my mind, when I heard a muffled shout. I looked round and saw a pile of bricks with a roof squatting on the side of the road.
I limped on and there I saw a pair of legs wearing wellie boots. Obviously festival wear. Then a voice drifted out “Help! Help!”
“Fred? Is that you?”
“Freda, Freda. Thank goodness. Can you help me?”
“I will go and get help! Bud is at home and we will get Spiderman to come over!”
“ Ah thanks love. I will wait for you here.
Well you don’t have much choice do you!”
So off I hobble. My legs were beginning to wear out and I was slowing up. Bud was useless. He had so much to drink he couldn’t stand, so I headed to Bromelia Close to get Spiderman but blow me Worzel told me he was on another mission! Part of me still fancied a bit of a boogie but it seemed a bit mean to leave Fred on his own so I turned round and hobbled back. Strangely I felt if I was getting a bit shorter but luckily Quad bike man offered to give me a lift.
I was a bit shocked to find when I got back Fred had gone. Blooming scarecrow! All that effort and he had buggered off. Fred I screamed. Just you wait!!!! But to my surprise I heard his voice coming from underneath the roof. “Freda, Freda I’m here. Someone has taken my legs!!”
“Who on earth would do that?” I asked.
“I don’t know! I can’t exactly see anything from here, can I!” He sounded a bit pathetic really, so I sat down next to his voice. My feet felt like sandpaper. I moved a few bricks aside and managed to wriggle underneath to have a bit of a snuggle, but I became stuck as well!
But now I am hopping mad! We had had a nice little cuddle and chat and I started talking weddings. Visiting mice promised to be bridesmaids and Fred thought his fisherman friend would be his best crowman if he could keep away from Jaws. Fred was a captive audience and I think he was getting used to the idea of being a Mr to my Mrs. But all of a sudden, we heard a kid’s voice. We listened carefully.
“Where’s Fred? Where’s my dad?? Help me find my dad!”
Dad? Dad? What on earth has been going on? Who is it Fred? Who was that hussy? I bet it’s that Florence Nightingale. She was at the festival a few years ago, when I couldn’t go to as I was waiting for a bird’s nest to be removed. Or was it the G and T lady from the posh end of the village? She always fancied herself with the men. I won’t forget this Fred. That’s it. We are finished – if ever we get rescued from this flipping bus shelter!