The Tribute
“I knew Bill for many years” Terry started. (“Good beginning” thought James rather facetiously). “That is, I drank with him in the Deer for many years and he entertained us with a lot of stories and jokes over that time, and no one knew where he got them all from. But I don’t suppose I really knew him, not like his Missus would have”. At this he inclined his head towards the Widow who gave a curt nod in acknowledgement. “In fact I asked around the lads from the Deer, and none of them had ever had any – how would the vicar put it – social interaction with Bill outside the pub. If we planned to go on a trip, like when we went to Scarborough that time, Bill would always say ‘thanks for asking, but I can’t that weekend’. After a while we stopped asking because the answer would always be the same.
“I suppose then that I’m only going to provide a tribute to Bill’s life as we saw it from drinking with him at the Deer, and from what we learned about his life from his stories. I’ve discussed this with the lads and we reckon we can draw some conclusions about Bill’s life outside the pub, so if his Missus doesn’t mind I might just stick a bit of our opinion in as well” Again Terry inclined his head towards the Widow, who again gave a curt nod.
“Bill and his missus never had any kids. I don’t know whether they couldn’t or they just didn’t, but either way, I think Bill would have liked to have had kids. He would get sort of wistful sometimes when he was talking about other peoples’ kids. I remember once when he had told the story of a lad from the village (no names no pack drill) who had been caught in a wheat field not just with his pants down with a girl from Bassingham, but stark naked. The combine driver had said he completely lost his line when he saw these two leap up in front of him clutching their clothes and running as fast as they could between the stalks. Bill had said that those wheat heads must have stung him where he least wanted it, but fair play to him he had said. He then said ‘I’d have liked that to have been my lad’.
“I’d never heard Bill talk like that. You know how you read that someone had a faraway look in his eye; well Bill had just that when he said that. He was always telling stories; I don’t know where he got them all from, but they just kept coming. Usually they were about people we knew or perhaps had just heard of; never malicious, just funny like the lad in the wheat field (that lad got bought a lot of drinks after that story got around). Somehow he could take a story that someone else had told him, often about themselves, and then just enhance it somehow so that we were all howling with laughter. He’d love it when that happened. It was as if that was what it was all about, making folk laugh.”
Terry looked across to the crew who were paying rapt attention to him.
“Do you remember when he told us about Mick and the deckchair? I can’t do the story justice, but basically it seems that Mick had come back from his holiday in Cornwall with both hands bound up and it turned out that it was from an accident with a deckchair. The way Bill told it had Mick trapping his hands in this deckchair after it collapsed when he had sat on it and then the trouble he had getting the deckchair off, then driving himself to the hospital not being able to grip the wheel, then when he had waited in Casualty with his hands stuck out like a puppet’s, the doc had seen him and before Mick could say anything had said ‘Deckchair?’. It was just the way Bill could tell the story that made it funny, and that punchline ‘Deckchair?’ just had us in fits. I swear I nearly wet myself.”
Terry suddenly remembered where he was and turned guiltily to James.
“Sorry Vicar” and to the Widow “Sorry Missus, it’s just the way he was. He made us laugh so much”
The Widow’s looks had softened somewhat and what looked suspiciously like the beginnings of a smile played across her face. James was impressed. The crew were still smiling from the memory of the way Bill had told the deckchair story, and some were openly laughing and giggling. “Well” thought James “this is a turn up. I never expected this.”
Terry addressed the congregation again.
“Bill could keep us entertained for as long as he was there. I think it’s fair that many of us only went to the pub because Bill was there. I’m not saying that we didn’t and don’t enjoy each other’s company, it’s just that if Bill was there it was always a good session. It’s not been the same without him.”
Looking at the Widow, Terry said “He was really fond of you. He would talk about you as I guess all of us men talk about our wives and girlfriends; as if we were totally in charge of our households and woe betide any woman who gets in the way of a man’s drinking. But when Bill said it there was a fondness in his voice. Oh yes, he would moan that “she” had decided that they were going shopping on such and such a day, so he wouldn’t be able to get up to the Deer, or that “she” had made him do some gardening, or something about the house, but somehow we knew that he accepted that this was his lot and he was very content with it. In fact in this too he was a role model to us. We all talked big about our women, but mostly when it came down to it we knew which way the land lay. So missus, I think you need to know that he loved you and that all of us miss him and are proud to have been counted as his friends. I for one will not forget him and will try as hard as I can to remember the stories he told and the way he told them, and I intend to tell anyone who will listen what a great feller he was and that I am proud to have known him.”
With that Terry walked over to the Widow’s pew and took her hand. She moved along the bench and he sat beside her. Tears were coursing down her face and she looked ten years younger.
James continued the service until the time came for the coffin to be taken out of the church and loaded back on the hearse to be taken to the cemetery on the outskirts of the village. The Widow invited Terry into her car and they stood together at the interment and committal.
The Wake
After the service, Terry and the Widow walked back into the village together talking. She told him that she had been very moved by his tribute and that she was pleased that her Bill had been held in such high esteem by his friends at the pub. He told her that the landlord and the crew had put together a bit of a buffet and some money behind the bar by way of a wake to see Bill out, and would she like to join them. At first she was a bit reluctant, but then she seemed to suddenly change her mind. “All right” she said “it’s about time I learned what you scallywags talked about every night for the last God knows how many years”.
By the time they reached the pub, most of the crew who had not attended the interment had already gathered in their usual circle with their pints in hand. When Terry and the Widow walked in there was a sudden hushing of the chatter as the crew turned to watch them arrive, then without a single word from anyone, the circle opened and Terry led the Widow to Bill’s seat in the corner.
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