“How’s a fella expected to sleep,” Albie complained to his mother, “with all that racket downstairs?”

www.albiestales.co.uk part four

ALBIE WAS FEELING rather guilty at having left Nipper behind in Cromer on Saturday night, and decided it best to scoot over to Aldborough the following morning to see if his friend had managed to get home all right. On the way there, he began to think of what to say but decided against mentioning he’d taken Diane home to Wickmere instead!

INE FRIEND you turned out to be!” were Nipper’s first words as Albie parked his Lambretta at the roadside by Aldborough village green. “Goin’ off and leavin’ me in the lurch like that!

It seemed Albie was definitely out of favour, so he began to explain his side of the story.

“But I thought you’d gone,” he said sheepishly, “I did look for you – honest – but you weren’t nowhere about...”

“Then you din’t look hard enough, did you?” Nipper replied angrily, “you musta heard me sayin’ I wuz gonna hev a drink with Barry Lee in the Crown and Anchor?”

“So tha’s where you were!” said Albie. “Sorry, mate, I remember you sayin’ suffin’ about hevin’ a jar or two – but, did you git home all right?”

“No thanks to you! Just as well that group from Aylsham wuz goin’ my way!”

Albie heaved a sigh of relief. “Phew – thank goodness for that, Nipper, an’ there wuz me a-thinkin’ you had to walk home...”

“And that I did!” his friend replied, “at least from Hanworth Post Office – an’ that wuz hoolly dark along that road an’orl.”

“But at least you got home, safe and sound,” said Albie.

“Yis – no thanks to yew though, yew little waarmin,” shouted Nipper’s mother, coming out of the house, “an’ don’t yew think yew’re gitting yar legs under my table agin, an’ eatin’ us outta house an’ home, ’corse yew en’t!”

Deciding he had outstayed his welcome, Albie mounted his scooter and left!

ONE CORNER OF TOMBLAND WITH ST GEORGE’S CHURCH HALF-HIDDEN BEHIND THE TREES

ALBIE ‘MODIFIES’ HIS SCOOTER

Two weeks later, on Friday, 10 May, Albie went shopping in his lunch break. In R O Clark’s, the motorcycle dealers on Tombland, he bought a set of gleaming, chromium crash-bars for his scooter on which to mount a series of mirrors, spotlights and badges like all the other ‘Mods’! And, as if that was not enough expenditure for one day, he noticed some rather attractive mudflaps in Halfords on Gentleman’s Walk, and just had to have them as well!

“Weren’t you in here the other week?” the salesman asked him, “a Spacemaster helmet, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Albie replied, as he paid for the mudflaps. Then he spotted the hooter! To be more precise, a bulb-horn, but triple-tones at that!

“I’ll have one of those as well,” he said, giving the rubber bulb horn a quick squeeze, and being extremely impressed by the noise that came out the other end.

“They’re guaranteed to give unsuspecting pedestrians heart failure!” joked the man from Halfords, as Albie left the shop weighed down by his purchases.

The next day, Saturday, was Albie’s day off work – as he tended to work alternate Saturdays – so, foregoing his usual lengthy lay in bed, he got his Lambretta out of the garden shed and began the necessary ‘modifications’, finishing just before lunchtime.

“Will yew be much longer?” his mother asked him, walking down the garden path in her flowered pinny and going into the shed to fetch some potatoes. “Dinner oan’t be long, y’know.”

“Whaddya think o’ this, then?” said Albie, pointing to his Lambretta, resplendent with chromium crash-bars, triple-tone hooter and mudflap brushing on the ground. “En’t she fab?”

ALBIE’S OFFENDING MUDFLAP: BOYS WILL BE BOYS!

“If yew mean that there half-naked woman,” his mother replied, raising her voice in disapproval at the bikini-clad maiden on the mudflap, “I reckun tha’s disgustin’ that is – what on earth possessed yew? I don’t know what your father’ll say!”

But, Albie’s scooter did look smart with its crash-bars, at least he thought so! As for the mudflap, which dragged on the ground and left a dust storm in its wake, he thought the design rather artistic!

The triple-tone bulb hooter, mounted on the Lambretta floorboards and foot-operated, did, indeed, give more than ample warning of his impending approach as he sped down Co-operative Street sending pedestrians fleeing for cover.

Whilst Albie’s father quite liked the look of the new crash-bars, adding to the safety of his son’s scooter, he turned a blind eye at the ‘offending’ mudflap – after all, boys will be boys!

However, when it came to the hooter, with its discordant tones in triplicate, Albie’s father was much more vociferous!

“Tha’s four times today I’ve had customers come into the Co-op to complain!” he told his son. “All that blessèd racket – they don’t feel safe walkin’ down the street no more, they don’t! Yew’ll watta pack that in, Albie – this instant!”

And he did – well, at least for the rest of that day!

SUZY COMES TO CALL

Towards the end of May, on Saturday the twenty-fifth, there was a loud knocking on the front door of Regis Cottage just before ten o’clock. Albie, as usual, was still in the Land of Nod, tucked up in his cosy little bed and dreaming of scootering along Norfolk’s quiet lanes with a pretty girl riding pillion.

“Who on earth is that banging on the front door this time o’ morning when I’ve got baking to do?” his mother said, tutting to herself, as she took a tray of steaming shortcakes out of the oven and put them down on the kitchen table.

“I s’puz I’ll hatta go an’ answer it,” she continued, taking off her pinafore and brushing her hair before opening the front door.

“Good morning, Mrs Gray” said the girl waiting on the doorstep, “that is Mrs Gray, isn’t it? I have come to the right house, I hope?”

“Yes, yew hev... but, what do yew want?” replied Albie’s mother, looking most bewildered, “and – more to the point – who are yew?”

“I’m Suzy,” the girl replied, inviting herself into the front room, “an’ I’ve come to see Albie!”

“I s’puz yew’d better go through an’ I’ll give him a call,” said Albie’s mother, ushering the girl into the living room. “Mind yew, he en’t up yet – he’s a learzy waarmin... wha’d yew say your name wuz? Suzy, wuz it? I don’t seem to recall him mentioning yew afore... but, there agin, tha’s nourthin’ new!”

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, Albie’s mother shouted: “Albie! Albie! Git up this instant will ya – there’s some young mawther here to see yew!”

A morose, sleepy-eyed Albie begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed, stumbled along the landing and paused at the top of the stairs.

“Can’t a fella hev a bit o’ peace once in a while,” he shouted irritably, “that en’t dinnertime yet, is it?”

“Tha’s someone called Suzy to see yew,” his mother shouted back up the stairs, “so, do yew come on, git dressed and come downstairs!”

“Suzy who?”

“I dunno – hen’t found that out yit!” replied his mother, closing the hall door and leaving Albie standing at the top of the stairs in his pyjamas.

Meanwhile, Suzy began to tell his mother about herself and how she’d cadged a lift on the Co-op delivery van from Norwich.

“Oh, there you are at last!” his mother declared, as Albie opened the living room door, “Suzy hev told me how she work with you at Jarrolds an’ how her father is in charge o’ the Norwich Co-op Bakery...”

“Yes, Mum, I know – I know!” replied Albie, like a bear with a sore head. “Don’t go on, please – I’ve got one of my heads!”

“But you never told me, did you? And Suzy seems such a nice girl,” his mother complained. “I’m allus the last to know!”

ALBIE SHOWS SUZY THE SIGHTS

Over a cup of coffee, Suzy told Albie she would like to have a guided tour of Sheringham as she intended spending the whole day with him.

“Won’t that be nice?” commented his mother.“Why don’t yew take Suzy up Beeston Bump, after all, some fresh air’ll do you good, Albie. Besides, you can see all of Sheringham from there – then yew can both come back here for your dinner.”

ALBIE’S MOTHER TOLD THEM NOT TO BE LATE FOR DINNER!

“I’ll do a nice salad for us,” she continued, as Suzy and Albie went out of the back door, closing it behind them and walking up the alleyway next to the house. “Don’t forget we hev dinner when your father gets home just after one o’clock, Albie – so, don’t be late!”

“I’m not at all keen on salads,” Suzy told Albie as they walked up Cliff Road towards Beeston Bump. “Perhaps we could have some fish and chips instead?”

“Oh – I dunno about that, Suzy,” Albie replied, thinking of the repercussions likely to follow if they skipped lunch. “Mum is bound to get upset if we don’t turn up...”

“Oh, Albie – for me, ple-eease?” she pouted, gazing up at him with those big, dewy eyes. How could he refuse?

“We’ll hatta see about that,” he laughed, taking her by the hand as they began climbing the steep path to the top of Beeston Bump.

Standing together on the summit of Sheringham’s most prominent landmark, Albie began to point out the places of interest to Suzy.

“If you look carefully you can just make out Cromer church,” he said, pointing along the coast to the east, “beyond that is Overstrand – tha’s where ‘Poppyland’ used to be.”

“Wha’s that, Albie?” Suzy asked, following his finger pointing to the distant horizon. “Wha’s Poppyland?”

Albie thought for a moment before answering.

THE GARDEN OF SLEEP IN POPPY LAND

“Well, there was this here bloke, Clement someone-or-other, an’ he came on holiday to Cromer. He became so incensed by the place – Poppy Land he called it – that he wrote a poem about a Garden of Sleep. I can’t remember it though, as that was afore my time!”

Before Suzy asked any more awkward questions, Albie quickly continued with his ‘guided tour’ of Sheringham and its region as seen from the top of Beeston Bump.

“Behind Beeston Regis church – tha’s it down there near Organ Beck – is West Runton and, going inland, tha’s Roman Camp,” he continued, waving his arms about. “Over there you can just make out Sheringham Woods, and there’s the Golf course, and, beyond that, tha’s Blakeney Point...”

“Can we sit down for a moment, Albie?” Suzy asked, taking off her coat and placing it on the grass, “my legs are beginning to ache after climbing up Beeston Bump.”

As Albie sat next to Suzy, he remembered the day, many years earlier, when he and Roz, an ex-girlfriend, had savoured a romantic moment or two on Beeston Bump, just watching the world go by.

“Isn’t this truly romantic?” he said breathing into her ear as they sat on the grass together. “I wish this moment could last forever.” Then, he put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

“We’ll have none of that hanky panky!” she laughed, wrestling free and leaping to her feet. “What do you take me for? I’m not a girl like that, you know!”

SUZY SPENDS A PENNY OR TWO!

Sprinting down the ‘Sixty Steps’, under the shadow of the Queen Mary flats built in the 1930s, Albie and Suzy walked hand in hand along the promenade past the colourful row of beach huts, each with its unique name displayed above the door.

Dunroamin one of them declared, whilst another wished to Linga Longa. Through the open door of Home Sweet Home was a little fold-up table already set for lunch, complete with gingham tablecloth, whilst a holidaymaker within was busy brewing up a pot of tea on a brass primus stove.

“I’m thirsty!” declared Suzy, quickening her pace as they passed the Fishermen’s beach and, pulling Albie along by the hand, she told him: “Come on slowcoach – let’s go to your dad’s Co-op and get a CocaCola or something.”

Albie shook his head. “They don’t hev any chilled there – but I know a place where you can get ’em straight outta the fridge!” he replied, heading for a little café halfway down the High Street.

As if that wasn’t enough, Suzy then began to feel hungry and began peering through the window of the baker’s shop next door at the display of chocolate éclairs, cream horns and jam doughnuts. Seeing something she fancied, she dragged Albie inside for ‘something for their elevenses’!

On both occasions, it was deemed necessary for Albie to dig deep into his pockets as Suzy had ‘left all her money at home’, or that was what she led him to believe.

Sitting on a seat next to the Town Clock, by now showing half-past-twelve, they ate their cream cakes – which were rather sickly, Albie thought! – and sipped ice-cold Coke straight out of the bottle. This is the life he wanted to say, but found difficulty in mouthing the words as the icy pop numbed his throat and bubbled up his nose!

Opposite Gun Street – where, on the corner, an old cannon was embedded in the road – they went into the Amusement Arcade as Suzy wanted to ‘have a go on the penny-machines’.

“Give me a few more pennies than that, Albie,” she said, taking a handful of coppers from him. “I’ll pay you back out of my winnings!”

Pennies were offered up to one machine after another, which greedily devoured every mouthful with little, or no, reward. Albie watched in silence as shiny, chromium-plated levers were skilfully flicked, sending even shinier silver balls directly into little cups declaring: ‘LOSE’.

“Don’t worry, Albie,” Suzy said soothingly, fully aware – by his silence – of his feelings of anguish and dismay at seeing all his loose change being frittered away before his very eyes. “My luck’s about to change and I’ll win the jackpot in a moment – let’s have another couple o’ bob, will you?”

“I’ll hatta get some change first, Suzy,” he replied, taking a pound note out of his wallet and heading for the ‘Change Given Here’ kiosk.

In rapid succession, one sixpence after another vanished into the depths of a one-armed bandit, holding them to ransom whilst oranges and lemons whirled round and round.

“We just need to get a row of oranges to win,” Suzy informed him as the spinning fruit almost became liquidised. Albie just stood there, like a lemon, with fingers crossed behind his back. Win, win, WIN, he found himself silently willing the machine, which it did of course, leaving Suzy the loser, and himself the lighter, of all his hard-earned money!

Albie had a couple of goes at winning a Teddy Bear for Suzy, with a mini-crane that kept dropping his ‘catch’ too soon, whilst she tried her hand on an extremely noisy pinball machine with colourful lights and balls being propelled in all directions – until the tilt light came on and a flashing display declared: Game Over’!

“That was really good!” declared Suzy, tearing herself away from the pinball machine and strolling out of the Amusement Arcade. “You win some, you lose some – let’s have some fish ’n’ chips now, shall we Albie?”

Oh – what was he going to tell his mother, as she was expecting them home for lunch – but, anything for a quiet life, he decided, and dug even deeper into his pockets!

As they ate their fish and chips in a seaside shelter it began to rain. At first, it was the odd spot or two, but then it became heavier as a tempest came in off the sea. The skies darkened until they seemed to merge with the greyness of the sea itself. The rain had obviously set in for the day.

“What a dreadful day!” Suzy complained, looking out of the shelter as rivulets of rainwater cascaded off the roof, flowing across the promenade down onto the beach. “I had hoped you’d take me home to Norwich on your scooter, but I certainly don’t feel like getting soaked to the skin – so I think I’d better go home by train.”

Then, turning to Albie, and gazing up at him with those big, dewy eyes, she said: “There’s only one little problem...”

And, do you know, he ended up paying for her ticket to Norwich as well!

NEXT: Albie joins the Jarrold Car, Motorcycle and Scooter Club, and is determined to win first prize in the Annual Treasure Hunt. But who will his navigator be?

SOME OF ALBIE’S FAVOURITE WEBSITES A Norfolk Entertainer A Moment in Time Enjoy North Norfolk Enjoy Norwich Flint Holiday Cottages Norfolk Churches Norfolk Dialect Norfolk Village Signs Norwich City Hall and the Lions Picture Norfolk Remember Norfolk Sid Kipper

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