In the book, Almost Dead in Suburbia, there is a local village pub called The Coach and Horses.
These short pieces are loosely based on this pub, and a few of the regulars.
How’s the weather?
Alf was supping his pint as Bert walked in and joined him at the bar.
Trevor, the barman, nodded and began to pull a pint of bitter.
‘Lo’ Alf,’ Bert said.
‘Af’noon, Bert,’ Alf acknowledged.
‘How was that weather last night?’ Bert asked.
Alf frowned. ‘T’were raining cats and bloody dogs.’
‘Yes, I know. But I meant the weather on the telly. Did you see it?’
‘No I didn’t see it. I was in it. Helping the vet deliver a calf. Was up half the night with the cow,’ said Alf.
‘How is your mother-in-law by the way?’ Bert asked, his face a picture of innocence.
Alf grinned. ‘So what weather did I miss on the telly, then?’
‘They got a new weatherman: Ishmael’s cousin, Fazel,’ Bert said.
‘Really? ‘S’one of them eyefirmative action things is it?’ Alf asked.
‘No. Ishmael says his cousin went to meteorological school and everything. Knows his stuff, apparently.’
‘Wonder if we’ll get better weather, then?’ Alf asked.
‘Doubt it. I asked Ishmael the same question and he says the weather is in the hands of Allah,’ Bert replied.
‘Maybe we should ask Ish if he could get his cousin to put a word in. What with him being so religious and all that. If it don’t stop raining soon my taters are going to be ruined.’
‘Won’t happen, Alf, the weather’s the same for them as it is for everyone else. And in this country it’s either Sunni or Shi’ite.’