Skip to main content

Chapter 21



The dancers' bells jingled and chinked as they walked back from the Dingle where the ceremony had taken place. The floral garden was one of Brian's favourite spots so it seemed fitting. The Morris Ring had reinstated the dancers following the revelations. The ladies looked like a living rainbow as they walked back through the park, each wearing a different colour dress with matching show laces. The men had all ironed their shirts and pressed their waistcoats. They looked like the morris side which Brian had wanted them to be. Their training schedule had been rewritten to help hone their new skills. Brian had achieved his aim of making the morris dancers great again, although he was not around to enjoy it.

At the top of the hill by the gates, the dancers stopped and spoke with the couple who had been looking on. The man in his standard purple number, the lady in her long flowing skirt.

"I didn't get a proper chance to thank you," said Cecil. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"It was nothing," said the Lord, "you would have done the same thing. Justice must prevail no?"

"Yes," agreed Cecil. "Well, thank you all the same. Will you reconsider our offer? There is always room for someone like you in our ranks."

"You are kind my friend, but no. The Lord of the Dance dances alone." The Dancing Queen coughed and kicked his shin whilst smiling sweetly. "Most of the time," added the Lord smiling back.

"I never did catch your name," said Cecil to the Dancing Queen. She looked at him as if considering whether to tell him a secret. When she spoke, all of the other dancers looked at her in awe and surprise.

"Fanny. My name is Fanny Frail."

"So you're the one!" gasped Cecil.

*

The Morris Dancers will return in
"John Barleycorn Must Die!" 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Chapter 1

Chink, chink, chink. It wasn't possible to discern where the sound was coming from, but it was there. Behind him. Chink, chink, chink. Getting louder, echoing off the mist-damp walls of the alleyway. The man quickened his pace. His breath steamed in the brisk morning air, each little cloud coming quicker. Chink, chink, jingle. The sound filled his head like a cacophony as it filled the alley. He wasn't far from the end, he could see the park which it led onto. His heavy feet were now trying to run but his back wasn't up to it anymore. The sound was all around him, chinks, jingles, a swoosh. Then silence. The man lay on the ground. From a distance he looked like he was sleeping. There were no more clouds of breathe. No more fear.   
Post a Comment
Read more

Chapter 19

Being ready to take on Brian was one thing, finding him in the first place was something else entirely. The dancers tried knocking on his front door but there was no answer. They tried tried banging louder but it made no difference. Agnes even tried rattling the letter box flap. "What now?" asked Dennis feeling slightly deflated. He had psyched himself up for a battle and was now a bit put out. "I'm thinking," replied Cecil. Brian was rarely away from home. If he wasn't carrying out the three P's - patrolling, practising or performing - he was at home doing some kind of DIY. "Try the garage," Cecil suggested. "Already have," replied Flo, "no sign of him." "Cunning," said Cecil. "He obviously knew that we'd be coming," said Sylvia with an air of I-told-you-so. "He's legged it. What we need to do is work out where, is there anywhere he would go? Friends? Family? If not, we ne...
Post a Comment
Read more

Chapter 2

Thursday night was dance practice. A time looked forward to by all of the dancers, although some more than others. For some, the prospect of dancing for two hours filled them with dread. Back pains, swollen knees, torn muscles. The list of ailments suffered by the team was long and distinguished yet it didn't put them off. They all still turned up with a smile, and a support bandage. "Warm up" was called as Derek walked in, not quite late but not early enough to warrant a few mutters and comments about car trouble. The men and women started walking around in a circle. Some sauntered, some jogged slightly, chatting amongst themselves about the events of the past week. None seemed in a rush to actually 'warm up'. The view through the window was priceless. A few lunges and chicken walks could be seen, odd steps which would have made John Cleese proud. A few skips picked up the pace and they all eventually fell into line, hopping and stepping, arms swinging in ...
Post a Comment
Read more