ST NICHOLAS CHRISTMAS CAIR: We will be holding our St Nicholas Fair on Saturday December 5, 10am to noon. This is a family event with lots for the children to enjoy. Santa will be in his grotto to meet the children, there will be a lucky dip, raffle, plenty of stalls and a giant singing polar bear. Tickets are £2.50 per person and include a visit to Santa for under 12’s and your choice of bacon roll, pain aux chocolate and tea/coffee/fruit juice. Tickets can be purchased from the school office at Netherfield CEP School or on the door on the day. Come along and enjoy some festive cheer and relax with your friends and family over a hot drink. - Emma Kersey.
NETHERFIELD MOBILE LIBRARY: The library is due again in Netherfield, outside the Village Stores on December 1, between 1pm and 1.20pm. For those who already enjoy the delights of taking out a book, this month new authors recommended for perusal can be found on http://www.lovereading.co.uk/. Ella will be happy to see you in the bus and will chat to you about the ease of joining, if you are not already a member, or recommending a good read if you want to try something different.
NETHERFIELD TABLE SALE: The Table Sale held at Netherfield Village Hall on Saturday November 14 raised £122 for St John the Baptist Church. There was an excellent and varied selection of items for sale. Attendance was good and everyone enjoyed themselves. I was very glad to see people turning out on such a cold and windy day.
Thanks go to David and Jackie for serving the refreshments, and to Madelaine selling homemade cakes and preserves. Our Village Hall is light and airy, warm in winter, has wheelchair facilities and a decent sized car park. We are planning another table sale in the spring, everyone will be welcome. Gillian Slack.
NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT: Chapter 8.
‘A red car weighing a ton had just run through me like a knife drawing across a parcel of butter. I felt my body. It was still in one piece. My coat showed no signs of blood, no stains to indicate trauma. Nobody around me seemed to have registered this event. I wanted to shout ‘Did you see that?’, but what good would it have done. Perhaps I am not here?
I ran blindly in any direction, or so it seemed, but the streets were familiar. Curtained windows closed to prying eyes, shiny front doors illuminated from above by lanterns with energy efficient bulbs, fitted with a screw or bayonet connection. The wind playing with the lights, casting shadows on the pathways as they swayed back and forth. The red painted steps of the zillion houses I passed on the way, which, in my mind, became carbon copies depressing modernity. Each dark space between the streetlights almost mirrored the entrance to a dank cave where death and purgatory beckoned. I was frightened.
Each time I passed through one of these black arenas I felt the beads of sweat increase in number. For ten minutes of more my journey was at a rate that called on the last vestiges of my stamina. My lungs felt fit to burst. My breathing was a rasp like sound interspersed with fits of coughing as I struggled for air.
Despite my exertions, my hair was covered in icy flakes of snow as was my clothing. At this rate, I would become a living snowman in a very short period of time if I rested as my body said I should. I knew the target for my activity, my house, would soon be visible to my half cloaked eyes. The cold, the we, the strain though were taking their toll. I felt almost done in.
I had slowed to a wandering walk, moving dangerously close at times to the kerb, as I tried to stay upright and focused on my goal. The snow was deepening, making the ability to differentiate between path, verge and roadway increasingly difficult. I was rubbing my eyes now trying to determine sanctuary. I was losing consciousness as a result of the cold and exertion.
The path was bordered by trees which became an additional hazard to my progress. I put my hands in front of my body to source a prop against my predicament. A wall. A fence. Anything. But the space was empty, devoid of comfort and succour. I felt I had lost the battle against the elements and my pain. I was falling............’
To be continued.
BUDDING AUTHORS: Remember any budding authors in the village or surrounding areas, you can still write a chapter in serial form leading up to Christmas. You can add to the storyline for next week, with the editor of this column (Maurice Holmes) selecting one from all the entries sent to the email address that follows. email@example.com. The number of words can range between 150 to 200 or more. Remember it is an on-going story and should last about one to two weeks and to do that each week must have a cliff-hanger of an ending. Just a bit of fun leading up to Christmas. So get your grey cells working and think of the next chapter. The Battle Observer comes out on Friday so entries must be received by the Monday morning to be sure of being printed the following week. Age is not a barrier as is open to all.
CONTACT: If you have any stories or articles of interest that will give our readership a reason to buy the paper please contact me on 07471000385 or via email at firstname.lastname@example.org
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