The crowd poured out into the night. It had been another successful monthly Mistery dance in the village Scout hut. All had enjoyed the heady mix of broad bean boasting, compost tips and high politics. With the last chords from the dance band still ringing in their ears the men gathered outside to talk…
“I’m just off down to the allotments Doris!”
“Ok love; see you when you get home…”
Bert made his way along the lane and turned right into the gateway to the allotments themselves. He looked with pride upon the bean plants heavily laden and held up by good old English hazel wands- there would be good eating for all and plenty to share with the neighbours. These were strange days here in Lower Sedgebury Wallop- the vicar denouncing the King from the pulpit, the men drilling on the vicarage lawn and those B.U.F city yobs in their uniforms swaggering through the village and up to no good!
Finally Bert arrived deep in thought at the Warden’s shed. A light was on and laughter could be heard coming through the still night air. Bert gave the secret knock and was admitted into the shed’s inner sanctum where the Kin had gathered. There amongst the terracotta flower pots, used twine, copies of gardening magazines and numerous pamphlets arcane and rather dull, lay a brand new anti-tank rifle! Let them come, Bert thought, we are ready now…
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