Long before television sets...or even the Mildenhall Pantomimes... dominated our lives, the local ladies made their own amusement in the evenings and formed a branch of the WI and it wasnt all jam and Jerusalem! They practiced amateur dramatics to almost a professional level and won several cups in various competitions, even though they had to make the scenery and costumes themselves. On one occasion in the early 1950s, they were invited to put on an Elizabethan play, which was to be held open-air in the Abbey Gardens at Bury St Edmunds. Several teams were similarly invited from around East Anglia and they were to be judged (adjudicated) by a lady with a fearsome reputation for timing and presentation, Mrs Ironsides-Woods. After much research and many rehearsals the team were finally ready for the big day. Suddenly someone asked a question that in all the excitement had been overlooked...How were they going to get there? There was nowhere at the Abbey to change into their elaborate costumes. They would have to travel wearing their costumes! One could imagine the looks on the faces of the other Eastern Counties passengers, as some twenty odd Elizabethans boarded the bus! Fortunately and as on so many other occasions, Mr Hagger, the local baker and confectioner stepped forward and offered to let them use his delivery van. My mother would drive it because she had driven it before to private wedding receptions in and around Mildenhall. There were only two males in the cast; a tall gentleman called Gilbert, who played a leading role and myself. I had been given a non-speaking part as a page boy. On the day, a thick mist wafted over from the fens and visibility dropped to less than a hundred yards. Frantic telephone calls were made and Mrs Ironsides-Woods confirmed all the other teams had already set off for Bury St Edmunds and the play must go on. So my mother drove very cautiously with everyone huddled together in the van like sardines and for anyone familiar with the A1101 route to Bury (via Lackford and all the open fields) it is a scary drive when you can barely see where you are going! Cut a long story short...they arrived safely, took part in the festival, won praise (and one or two constructive criticisms from Mrs Ironsides-Woods) but were placed second...which given the opposition was excellent! During this time, the mist had barely lifted and mother was faced with the prospect of driving home as night fell. Well, someone had to do it and they set off shortly after tea. Roughly halfway home...somewhere near Lackford I think...the van started to jerk and then ground to a halt, with steam hissing out from beneath the bonnet. We all peered out through the windows. It was dark and misty and in the silence, quite eerie. Someone started to wail like a ghost and we all laughed. Gilbert made his way outside and lifted the bonnet. Well at least its not a broken hose pipe... he declared. The radiator just needs topping up with water...Ill walk back to that farmhouse and get some. And off he went, disappearing in the mist. A few moments later a car caught up with us and stopped alongside. It was a great big American car with about three or four people in it. The driver saw the van bonnet lifted but he seemed very nervous. Hey guys... he called out. Youll never guess what weve just seen? What have you seen? my mother called back. Reckon it was a ghost! the driver confirmed. Some ancient guy from your olden days...just walkin down the road! At which point some of the ladies got out of the van to stretch their legs and walked by the American car. The driver suddenly revved the powerful engine and shot away into the mist like a bat out of hell! The ladies almost collapsed laughing, just as Gilbert came back with a bucket of water. The farmer had told him to leave the bucket by the side of the road. We laughed all the way home.
Posted on: Wed, 01 Oct 2014 21:35:52 +0000
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