Mere prose seems insufficient to map the latest rifts and schisms in Ambridge: an infographic, a diagram, possibly an interpretation in the form of expressive dance seem better suited to the task. But to offer an attempt: George Grundy’s name is mud, now that everyone knows he lied about causing the great Ambridge car crash, and is anything but a hero. Brian Aldridge gave himself an angina attack even thinking about him, and police officer Harrison nearly beat him up. Lilian gave her sister-in-law Pat an earful for offering to be his character witness. (Pat, a known Guardian reader, has dangerous progressive views on whether Prison Is the Answer.) Emma has left the tea shop because she and Fallon can no longer be in the same room (this after a ghastly “mediation session” run by the ever-pompous Tom Archer). Emma and Ed had a row while doing a tree surgery job (one of them is bound to sever a limb with those damn chainsaws, or be crushed to death by a falling branch). George stopped speaking to Emma (though a rapprochement has been effected). Eddie stopped speaking to Susan. Formerly super-close siblings Emma and Chris may never speak again. At the Bull, Jolene and Kenton threw George’s special beer mug, presented to him for his “heroic” rescue actions on the night of the fateful crash, in the bin. I’d like to say that covers everything, but I don’t suppose it does.
What to think? This column has tended to take a dim view of George Grundy. But, as Pat said, he is complicated. Venal and amoral he may be; selfish and a bully, certainly. Would he be cured by a spell inside? I think not. Will some seed of goodness – his occasional bouts of hard work, his ambition – pull him through to some brighter future? I guess you never know.
Alongside this dark story has come jollier news: a cosy crime worthy of Richard Osman – the sleuths, Lynda Snell and Jim “the prof” Lloyd. What miscreant sabotaged a folding table in the village hall causing it to collapse and destroy various desserts put forward for competition in the flower and produce show, suspiciously leaving the way clear for Kenton Archer to take the rosette with his apple and cheese pie? A “locked room mystery”, opined Jim – but it turned out the culprit was only Lynda herself not reading the table’s assembly instructions properly.
This A Month in Ambridge happens to have been written on a train crossing Ukraine. When people say that the peaceful potterings of life in Borsetshire are a balm in troubled times, they are right.
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