A Story from DLR and Tramlink

[RobbieM]

“You know,” said Beck eventually, “I did enjoy that day trip to Ford. You Women’s Institute ladies are quite remarkable.”
“Finally,” thought Jane, “we can talk something sensible.”
“Yes”, she said. “The W.I. have some quite remarkable ladies. This year’s champion W.I. knitter, Dorothy, can do anything with a ball of WOOL. W.I. CHARS ENA, Louise and Crystal are the best cleaners in the area. In fact, Crystal’s recently taken a house-keeping job with a local scoutmaster, Mr. Bromley.”
“Richard Bromley?” enquired Beck.
“You know him?” said Jane.

[GuyBarry]

"Sort of," said Beck. "My younger son Syd was in his scout troop for a while, but got expelled for eating rats while he was a cAMPER."
"EW!"
"A Young boy like that needs protein. Can't see what's wrong with using initiative. The scoutS HAD WELL too much power over him."

Just then Jane's phone rang. It was her husband, Alan.

"Jane? I was expecting you home. You know Henry's coming down from Yorkshire tonight."
"Yes, but I've double-booked myself. Don't worry - I'll take THE RAP."
"I," ALAN Explained, "am happy to take the blame. I just wanted to check that you were all right. What are you doing?"
"I can't say. My name will be MUD."

CHUTEs from nearby blocks of flats were spilling rubbish all over the ground, and rats were scurrying around. Jane started to feel sick.

"Look, Beck, I'm not feeling very WELL."
"ESLEY ROAD is just coming up. Some great junctions on that one, but I've done them already."
"Beck, can we stop please? I'm really feeling rather loW."
"ADD ON MARSHall Street to that. This is going to be brilliant!"

Jane wanted to screaM.

"OR DEN ROAD," continued Beck. "It's one of my neWEST. CROYDON's got some good junctions, but it's not a patch on this area."
"Listen, you bEAST. CROYDON's road junctions mean nothing to me. I need to get out of this car, now."

[RobbieM]

"Relax, Jane! We're nearly at Waltham Abbey. Junction-spotting is the bees knees! Can't you think of a better way of spending the sumMER? 'T ON PARK' street! We're gonna find it, like it or not!!!"
Jane couldn't contain herself any more; finally she cracked...

[GuyBarry]

She grabbed hold of the steering-wheel and crashed the car straight into a traffic ISLAND. GARDENS of the nearby houses were showered in fragments of concrete.

[RobbieM]

The car burst into flames and the bonnet was cHARRING.
"T ON ROAD street, Road Park, Park Street, or whatever it was!" Jane shouted. "You can keep your junctions to yourself!"
She ran off out of sight as fast as she could, and ended up in the local cemetery.
"So!" shouted Beck. "You label me nuts for being a rodent-eater and junction-spotter, but now I'm giving you a laBEL! "GRAVE-WALKer!" Running into cemeteries like that!"

Jane tried to work out how she'd get back home, when suddenly she remembered - she'd left George Varley all alone in the kitchen. Why hadn't Alan mentioned he'd found a strange man at home? Was George hiding in a cupboard?

• (May be able to edit out the last part - turns out George is a friend of both Jane and Alan...)

[GuyBarry]

Her phone rang. It was Beck.

"I've seen some low tricks in my time, Jane, but this is one of the loWEST. FERRYing you around brings me no pleasure whatsoever. What am I going to do now?"

Jane looked down at one of the gravestones. It said 'Killed in action at VerDUN. DONALD ROADen, 1893-1916. R.I.P.' What a tragedy that anyone should die so young, she thought. "I don't know, Beck. Please don't call me."

She hurriedly switched the phone off. In these situations, her mind wasn't very aDEPT. FORD, BRIDGE parties - that's where she felt comfortable, not stranded in a cemetery on the edge of north London. Suddenly a stranger approached her. "Can I help you at all? You seem lost."

"Er... I was taking a shortCUT."

"TYSARK Street is down there on the left. It leads back to the main road."

[RobbieM]

"Oh, just head in the direction of the church TOWER?"
"GATEWAY is just by the church, that's correct."
"Thank you. Excuse me, but I can't help noticing you've a big scar on your arm. How did you do that?"
"Oh, I scraped it on a sharp rock at the beach last week. My friend, Reg and I were going for a sWIM. BLED ON and on for several minutes until Reg could get a first aid kit. But he saved the day."
"Sounds like he's a real PRINCE!"
"REG ENTwistle is one of life's real good eggs. Oh look, someone's running towards us!"
Jane turned round, and was horrified to see...

[The Orange One]

...a large horse charging towards her, and on its back was a man.

"Watch it!" yelled the man in the cemetery. "You and your BLACK HORSE. LA! NEarly took our heads off!"

Jane looked up at the horseman, recognising him suddenly.

"You're that guy with the silverware, aren't you?" she asked. It was indeed Don.
"Er, yes," replied Don. "Don't you live out in Norbiton or something?"
"Yes, that was me. Weren't you looking for Combe Road?"
"It turns out I was supposed to be looking for Mr. Roaden, in Coombe. I've tried Coombe in Buckinghamshire and Coombe in Wiltshire, but I can't find him."
"I live near COOMBE! LANEs round there can get quite confusing. It's very near Norbiton, where I live. Anyway, aren't you supposed to have a van?"
"Well, er, I lost it while searching for Coombe," said Don.

The truth of the matter was, Detective Superintendent Worth Roaden had recognised Don as a wanted fugitive, and Don was once more on the run. He'd ditched the van in an attempt to keep hidden - this was only his second slip-up and he was determined not to be caught this time.

"Look, I'm in trouble with my boss, I need to lie low," he said. "Take the horse, use it to get home."

This sounded extremely suspicious to her, but Jane was desperate to get back. She thanked Don, took the horse, then set off home at a gallop. The stranger in the cemetery looked at them oddly, then towards the horizon where the fires from the wreck were still blazing.

"Who are you, anyway?" he asked, finally.
"DyLAN S. DOWNE, ROAD haulage driver at Queenstown Road Haulage. Pleased to meet you," said Don. It was best to go under a new name, of course.

Just future-proofing it - I'm sure you will understand! Edit: Some more exposition given. Alan S. Downe changed to Dylan.

[GuyBarry]

The horse certainly wasn't sloW, AND L.E. PARK, its trainer, had brought it all the way from WEST INDIA. QUAYside workers were impressed by the progress it was making. As one of them said:

...and here we start the next chapter...

"That horse has put on a fierce gallop out of the CEMETERY. ROADs round here aren't used to that sort of thing."

The horse was trying to break FREE. HOLDing back the reins had little effect, but Jane was putting the HEAT ON. PARK Street seemed a world away, and she was making a NEW BOLD attempt to get home. Somehow she managed to stay on its back.

[RobbieM]

The horse ran past a local ECCLESiastical institution, well-known for its long serMONS - ALL Souls Church. It was a VICTORIAn edifice; on top of the tower was a very ornate CROSS. A CRESted bird sat on top of that, as a weather-vane.

[greatkingrat]

The weather vane was pointing EAST. DID S. BURY, canon of the church, know about the chaos going on outside?

[GuyBarry]

A member of the congregation emerged from the church, and watched the horse in aWE, A STEely gaze in his eyeS. A LEngthy sermon had left him exhausted, and he sat on a nearby BENCH. "I'LL find some peace here, perhaps," he said to himself.

[RobbieM]

BURYing his head in his newspaper, he sniggered with sCORN. "'BROOKside' may be returning to our TV", he read.
"Not my favourite old soap opera", he thought. "I much preferred 'Eldorado'". But then...

[GuyBarry]

...as he gazed on in wonDER, KERfuffles broke out amongst the onlookers around him.

"Who let that horse run free around here? It's a danger to NAVIGATION! ROAD traffic won't be able to find its way aROUND."
"THORNy problem, horses in traffiC. RUMP'S ALL in the face of the driver behind."
"I lecture at the university. I'll never forgET I HAD CAMPUS disruption once when a horse was let loose. The students almost rioted."

[RobbieM]

Meanwhile, far away from all this commotion, in a scoutmaster’s house, a new house-keeper was getting to know her boss’s likes and dislikes.
“What would you like for dinner?” asked Crystal.
“Er, cOLD HAM. CENTRAL to my diet, ham, you know”, said Richard.
“You want cOLD HAM? KING STREET butchers sell ham – should I go and get some?”
“I normally use McCann’s, but I’m happy to try somewhere new.”
“Okay!” said Crystal. I’ll go out and get some cOLD HAM.”
“MUM?”
“P.S. – would you like mustard with that?”
“Er, yes please, thanks Crystal. Sorry, I’ve just been distracted by someone coming up the path.”
Richard’s mother rang the doorbell.