I was new to the village and expected to be treated like a stranger for a year or two. However, I found that idea was born of an urban myth. I was greeted quite well and in a very friendly fashion. I had move there to write, and liked the quiet pastoral days and the calm moonlit evenings. I began to make acquaintances in the village and to enjoy the company of the eccentrics who made up a majority of the population.
I noticed a big-boned horsey woman, or rather heard her bellowing her greetings through the main street while I was having a quiet pint.
"Who is that?" I asked the publican.
"Oh That!" He explained, that's one of the Tunney sisters. They live just outside the village. They run a riding school.
I didn't take much notice. I don't ride horses, although I have eaten one in France. Quite nice. What I didn't expect is to be forced to make their acquaintance a few days later when my Land Rover made expensive fatal sounding noises outside their cottage, and refused to go further. The big-boned one came out.
"Sounds expensive." She bellowed, and swished her riding crop as if she knew perfectly well how to make it move.
"I'm afraid it does,' I said, "Do you think I could use your telephone to call Cedric at the garage?"
She opened the gate and I followed her into the cottage where we were met by her opposite and sister, a diminutive fluttery woman in rather old-fashioned fussy clothing. She had a rather whispery voice. This pair was so unalike it startled me, to say the least. There were introductions. I used the telephone and Cedric said he couldn't get to it at once. I wasn't worried, I could walk home from here with no trouble at all. The sisters offered tea.
"You're the writer, who moved into the Major's former house this spring?"
"I am."
"Well, that's interesting. I've seen you about. Do you ride?"
"Er... no"
"Well, if you do want to have a go, we teach and breed horses here."
"Really, you breed horses? I didn't know this was such an extensive property."
"Finish your tea and I'll show you the place."