1980: Bogles In Beckindale...

It all began in the autumn of 1980. Seth Armstrong (Stan Richards) was doing a spot of taxi driving for Jim Blake, and one of his fares this particular night was Amos Brearly (Ronald Magill), co-proprietor of The Woolpack Inn, Beckindale. The car engine had been behaving erratically throughout the journey but, finally, on a lonely road by Bogle Bog, it conked out.

Seth suggested that they should walk back to Beckindale...

... but Amos was having none of it. They couldn't walk back it was dark. The Hotten Courier had hired the cab to get Amos home after a function, the taxi proprietor was legally bound to do just that, Amos was ex-artillery - he knew his rights, Seth must go back to the phone box they'd passed earlier and phone the taxi firm from there and demand another vehicle be sent out to them. And whilst he was at it he must also phone Mr Wilks (Arthur Pentelow) - it was late and he'd be wondering where Amos had got to.

Seth asked him if he was afraid of Bogles (more about them later) but Amos hotly refuted the idea.

Seth went. Amos clicked on the car radio. Beneath all his bluster he was actually quite afraid, being out there alone at that time. It was around midnight. The newsreader provided little comfort - just a tale about a man trapped on a ledge of rock in the Lake District by a freak storm. Amos changed channels, to find a dreadful winky-wonky instrumental version of Smile Though Your Heart Is Breaking...

He was listening to an equally winky-wonky version of Amazing Grace when he saw it. A light, moving around and going on and off in the sky over Bogle Bog...

Amos stepped out of the taxi. Instinctively, he thought Seth was to blame, playing one of his daft tricks. But when Seth returned, coming from the opposite direction, Amos knew he was wrong. Seth didn't see the light and doubted Amos' word. The Woolpack landlord was a barmpot anyway. How could there be a light out there? That was Bogle Bog...

What is a "Bogle"? Well, according to my trusty old dictionary, it's a spectre or goblin, a scarecrow or bugbear.

The word is claimed to be of Scottish origin - although Emmerdale Farm had a strong Yorkshire flavour in the 1980s, and I fail to see how a word that originated from Scotland would be deeply embedded in Beckindale folklore. I wonder if the word is in reality simply Northern British - perhaps derived from the Vikings.

Much is made of various colloquialisms being strictly Scots/Welsh/English - but the simple fact is that this is a tiny island and national borders (and indeed county) are entirely artificial. It's next to impossible to be entirely sure - and things often overlap. The Welsh fancy that the quaint phrase "round by here" is Welsh is another uncertain claim - I've also heard it just across the border in England.

Bogles, it seems, can manifest themselves as lights in the sky. Boggy areas are often renowned for this phenomenon - and names for it differ in various parts of the UK. "Will O' The Wisp" is another. Variants on the "Bogle" name in Beckindale included "Boggarts" and "Bog-A-Boos".

The logical scientific explanation is that the lights are created by marsh gases.

Amos, of course, was neither logical nor scientific, and thought he had seen an alien space craft. UFOs were very big in 1980 - the BBC radio serial Waggoners' Walk had contained a UFO story line in its closing months, Close Encounters was just three years before, The Empire Strikes Back was debuting at cinemas, and ET was a couple of years ahead. The pop group Hot Chocolate scored a major hit in 1980 with their excellent UFO ditty No Doubt About It.

Amos took to studying the skies over The Woolpack...

... and was quite alarmed when a crash helmeted young man called at the pub for a drink, stating that he came from a long, long way away. Was he an alien? The man was very interested in Bogle Bog and was camped out near there.

As it turned out, the young man was called Ned and he was at Bogle Bog with a metal detector, searching for Roman artifacts. He had some success, and told Amos about a legend he had read whilst doing his research: Romans fleeing from a villa in the locality during the Boadicea era, had seen a strange light over what was now Bogle Bog - and attributed it to an evil Bogle!

So it wasn't an alien space ship Amos had seen, it was a Bogle. Well, at least that's what our Mr Brearly thought!

He phoned Mr Tyler, editor of The Hotten Courier, and told him he was going to research the subject of Bogles and write an article.

This he did, although he had moments of uncertainty. What if Bogles read The Courier and were upset by what he wrote? Mr Wilks was amused. That was assuming that Bogles could read, let alone that they read The Courier, he told Amos.

Amos was going well over the top in 1980. The arrival of Seth as a Woolpack regular and Walter (Al Dixon) seemed to be making him pottier than ever. He told Mr Wilks that The Courier was the only local paper they could read - there was only one!!

I agree with Amos - it's likely that any self respecting Bogle would be keen to keep abreast of local news!

The article was published. Towards the end of 1980, Amos had cause to upbraid Mr Wilks about the inconsiderate nature of his relatives. Alice Wilks (Hazel Bainbridge), Mr Wilks' cousin, had announced she would like to visit him with very little notice, and Mr Wilks had agreed.

But if Mr Wilks' relatives were inconsiderate, Amos' were even more so: his Auntie Emily (Ann Way) turned up out of the blue in her old fashioned car, almost colliding with the Emmerdale land rover before she reached Beckindale.

Sam Pearson (Toke Townley) commented that Amos Brearly had been in Beckindale for around twenty years. In all that time, Sam hadn't even known that Amos HAD an auntie! Matt Skilbeck recalled that Amos had been expecting a visit from an aunt some years before - but she hadn't actually turned up.

Auntie Emily was a large eyed, somewhat bird-like woman in appearance, who bossed Amos around, sat in the bar with her knitting, and was decidedly different to your average relative. It was easy to tell she was a Brearly. Mr Wilks actually wondered if she might be a Bogle!

Mr Wilks' cousin, Alice, was relaxed and charming. Very much a Wilks. She and Auntie Emily managed to fall out and gently tiffed for a while, but a party at Emmerdale Farm, thrown by Annie Sugden in honour of the visitors, lessened the tensions.

Then came the day when Auntie Emily got herself into a state of "high dungeon" as Amos called it: she saw the article Amos had written about Bogles in The Courier and told him he should never have done it. Such things as "Bog-A-Boos" should be left strictly to themselves.

She told Mr Wilks that she hoped she would meet him again, although she would not be returning to The Woolpack, and left in a great flurry, telling Amos he should have The Woolpack exorcised.

Amos' loss of interest in Bogles was immediate.

And, as far as I know, the lights in the sky were never seen again. Auntie Emily returned in 1983 however.

1980 Month - Feedback And Queries

First, some queries:

Pete asks: "Is it true that Seth Armstrong was not a regular at The Woolpack in early 1980?"

Of course, Pete. He was a Malt Shovel man. In early-to-mid 1980, Seth was a semi-regular in the storylines - there are a couple of quite long runs of episodes where he didn't appear at all. By about midway through the year he was a Woolpack regular - winding Amos up at every opportunity! In December, Tom Merrick called Seth a "snob" for deserting The Malt Shovel.

Lorraine asks: "How long did Nellie Ratcliffe appear for?"

I believe that Nellie was originally a temporary character, established in 1978 for a storyline about NY Estates seeking to evict her from her cottage. In 1980, she appeared occasionally - featuring quite heavily in storylines about the horticultural show, Sam Pearson's birthday, the return of the Merricks to the village and the Allotment Association's bonfire night celebration. She also featured in 1981. Amos mentioned her in 1986 and it seems she was still a village resident, but I don't think she appeared on-screen at that point.

Nick asks: "I remember the Merricks' caravan as being quite convincing, was the interior real or a studio set?"

It was convincing, but I believe it was a studio set.

Mrs Shook asks: "Did we actually see The Malt Shovel in 1980?"

No, it wasn't featured - and neither was Ernie Shuttleworth, who underwent a change of actor in the early 1980s.

Greg says: "Tom Merrick, nicking Christmas trees - I read that was 1981."

No, Greg, it was just before Christmas 1980.

Thanks to all those who have written with compliments and suggestions about 1980 Month. I have been asked if a "1981 Month" is a possibility. It certainly is, but will take some time to prepare and will not appear until October at the earliest if I choose to go ahead with the idea.

1980: September: Al Dixon Becomes Walter Of The Woolpack...

Walter's very first screen close up, October 1980.

Before The Beckindale Bugle, confusion reigned over the character of Walter, the silent Woolpack bar propper. When did he first appear? Did he ever speak? Why was he so quiet? What was his surname?

Well, The Beckindale Bugle couldn't, and can't, solve the last two mysteries, but we did manage to solve the others.

Regular readers of this blog will know that there were two Walters, one played by Geoffrey Hooper on-screen from circa 1974-1980, and the other played by Al Dixon from September 1980 to December 1985.

Geoffrey Hooper's Walter was often heard to speak - from episodes available to me and my readers, I can state that in 1976, he informed the Woolpack that there had been a train crash at the junction; I'm reliably informed he told Annie Sugden at a village dance that he would rather be having a drink with Amos. In an episode from early 1980 he told Amos that he wouldn't have his usual pint of beer, he'd have a half!

Al Dixon's 1980s Walter said much less - I heard him mumble "Thank you" when Mr Wilks handed him his change in a scene from November 1980, and he laughed out loud when Amos planned to fix the plumbing at The Woolpack - but then who wouldn't have?! Anyway, if you want to know more about Walter and Al Dixon, simply click on the labels below.

Actually there was a third Walter in Emmerdale Farm, played by Meadows White in a few early episodes, but as that Walter wasn't particularly quiet, nor a Woolpack bar-propper, I assume he was unrelated to the subject of this article! According to Meadow White's IMDB entry, he died on 20 November 1973. Read it here.

Today we're thrilled to be able to show you, in screen captures, how Al Dixon's Walter was introduced into the story. The Woolpack was absolutely Walter-less for much of 1980. A non-silent character called Wilfred was sometimes seen at the bar, but then the Emmerdale Farm production team decided that a new Walter was required. And a new, rather different, rather quirkier Walter at that!

Al Dixon was auditioned and later revealed: "They asked me to take my teeth out and that's how I got the part."

His on-screen introduction - episode 597, broadcast in September 1980 - went like this...

Amos was ranting away to Mr Wilks - in high dudgeon about "summat and nowt" - one morning before Opening Time. As he stalked out of the bar, there was a knock at the door. Amos told Mr Wilks it was Walter knocking, it was time to open up, they had the good name of the house to consider, and so on.

Amos went into the living quarters, leaving easy-going Mr Wilks to open the pub. He made his way to the door and the episode switched scenes to elsewhere in Beckindale so that we didn't get to see Walter at that point.

Screen capture from Walter's very first scene, September 1980.

Later in the episode, Amos was putting Seth Armstrong to rights in no uncertain terms and Walter made his very first appearance, sitting quietly in the shadows. Walter would soon become associated with the corner of the bar nearest the till, but made his debut at the opposite end by the hot food cabinet. In his early episodes, he switched bar ends several times.

At first, Walter was quite low key, but he quickly became more prominent. It was in October 1980 that he got his first screen close up.

Walter's bizarre silence and highly expressive face added something very distinctive and slightly surreal to the atmosphere at The Woolpack. He contributed to Amos' growing reputation as a barmpot as the Woolpack landlord stood wittering away to him about all his latest fads. Walter never answered, but this didn't bother Amos who simply wanted to be heard and not ridiculed. Very occasionally, early on, Walter was heard to laugh at certain particulars of Amos' daft doings, but in the main Amos' chunterings were greeted by an attentive (or sometimes blank) expression and much head nodding.

Bliss for Amos - somebody who would listen to his strange flights of fancy.

Although Walter was silent, his facial expressions spoke volumes. Neither he nor Amos were at all impressed when the uncouth John Tuplin, NY Estates worker, rapped on the bar with his glass in an attempt to get service in October 1980.

Mr Wilks is bemused, bothered and bewildered by Amos' behaviour, Seth is amused, Walter is blank.

By 1983, viewers were campaigning for Walter to speak. But Al Dixon said in 1984: "I hope Walter never speaks. If he did, I think I'd be finished because the character wouldn't be a novelty any more!"

Al Dixon suffered a stroke in late 1985, and Walter last appeared on screen in December of that year, in the village's Christmas play Toad Of Toad Hall. The scenes had been recorded before Mr Dixon was taken ill.

In early 1986, Walter was reported to have gone to visit his sister in Worthing. The production team hoped that Mr Dixon would be well enough to return to the role soon. But, sadly, this was not to be and he died a few months later.

Walter was a tremendous favourite of mine - he brought a great deal of fun to the show from 1980 to 1985, and was a lovely, quirky and gentle character.

Fondly remembered.

1980: Amos' Mystery Woman

Daily Mirror, November 4, 1980: Amos' mystery lady friend has the whole village talking, reads the Emmerdale Farm synopsis for that day. So, who was she? Had Amos finally fallen in love?

No, as it happened. The mystery lady was one Margaret Hatfield, a fellow student in Amos' poetry appreciation class. She had been giving him lifts to the classes in her car, and had been spotted by Seth Armstrong, who quickly spread the news that Amos had been seen going off in a car with an unidentified female!

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Amos was horrified when she turned up at The Woolpack, but made her welcome. There was no romance: his secrecy was simply because he didn't want Mr Wilks or his regulars knowing that he was attending poetry appreciation classes. He thought it might arouse awkward questions as they apparently knew he already was a poet - so why would he need poetry appreciation classes?!

Margaret Hatfield appeared in just three episodes of the Beckindale saga, and was played by Doreen Sloane. Miss Sloane made a much larger contribution to 1980s soap history with her role as Annabelle Collins in the controversial Channel 4 serial Brookside, which she appeared in from the very first episode in November 1982.

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She remained with Brookside until her death in 1990.

Emily Brearly

Emily Brearly - a brief visitor to The Woolpack in 1980 and 1983 - played by Ann Way.

An e-mail from Karen:

Thanks for 1980 Month. I love it so far. Can you tell me if you'll be featuring Amos Brearly's Auntie Emily, and was 1980 the first time she appeared in the show? And will you be featuring the arrival of the Merricks?

I'm glad you're enjoying 1980 Month, Karen. Yes, I will be featuring the Aunt Emily storyline, and 1980 was the first time the character appeared in the show. She turned up in November and Sam Pearson commented that Amos Brearly had been in Beckindale for around twenty years. In all that time, Sam hadn't even known that Amos HAD an auntie! Matt Skilbeck recalled that Amos had been expecting a visit from an aunt some years before - but she hadn't actually turned up.

Aunt Emily initially disapproved of the fact that Amos had a business partner - poor Mr Wilks - but she quite liked him when she met him.

Emily's first visit to The Woolpack coincided with a visit from Alice Wilks (Hazel Bainbridge), Mr Wilks' cousin.

The arrival of the Merricks will also be covered later in the month.

1980: Domestic Crisis At The Woolpack...

There were no plane crashes in Emmerdale Farm in the 1980s, nor terrible storms, nor brawling Woolpack regulars, but Beckindale's favourite inn did have its fair share of crises in those days. Take this one:

Having just hand-washed a few tea towels at The Woolpack in the spring of 1980, Amos Brearly discovered that he couldn't disperse the suds left in the kitchen sink after he'd let the water out.

The vicar, the Rev Donald Hinton, paid a visit whilst Amos swished his marigolded hands around in the suds, and Amos confided in him:

"It's always't same. I can't get soap suds to go down't plug hole..."

"I have exactly the same problem," said Donald.

They pondered the problem long and hard, in fact the vicar was concentrating so hard he barely heard Amos discussing other matters.

Donald hit upon a possible solution: "Perhaps if you turn on the cold tap?"

Amos tried this and, with the aid of a little more hand swishing, the suds gradually disappeared.

Crisis passed.

Uttered In The '80s Part Two...

"I'm that hungry I'd eat the oven door if it were buttered!" -

Amos Brearly, 1986.

From "Wilks" To "Mr Wilks" - Credit Where It's Due!

Give that man a medal! Mr Wilks listens to yet another of Amos' bizarre schemes in the 1980s.

From 1972 until the early 1980s, the character of Henry Wilks, portrayed by Arthur Pentelow, was always listed in the closing credits as "Wilks". Initially, Henry, a retired businessman, was seen moving to Beckindale and was very much an outsider.

But that changed.

In the 1980s, Henry's partnership with Amos Brearly at the Woolpack Inn was in its golden era, and the popularity of that partnership - and the character of Henry Wilks - was acknowledged by altering "Wilks" to "Mr Wilks" (which, of course, Amos always called him) in the programme's end credits early in the decade.

A lovely and thoroughly English quirk (such formality!) which was later echoed by the listing of Caroline Bates (Diana Davies), Alan Turner's long suffering secretary at NY Estates, as "Mrs Bates" in the closing credits. In the NY days, this was the title Alan always used, and, even after the character's Christian name was revealed, "Mrs Bates" remained in the closing credits.

"Emmerdale Farm" closing credits from 1980 - "Wilks"!

Spot the difference - "Emmerdale Farm" closing credits from 1983 - "Mr Wilks"!

The Wonderful World Of Amos And Mr Wilks

Arthur Pentelow as Henry Wilks (or should that be Mr Wilks?!) and Ronald Magill as Amos Brearly. These two ran The Woolpack Inn and shared the living accommodation from 1973 to 1991.

Actually there were TWO Woolpacks. The first was declared unsafe due to subsidence in 1976, so the pair relocated to premises elsewhere in the village.

Mr Wilks was a warm hearted retired businessman. Amos was... well... erm... it's not easy to summarise Amos. He was childish. Pompous. Usually rigidly formal. Given to rapid fads and enthusiasms. He was also naive and very good hearted. Underneath it all.

The character of Amos evolved. When he became Beckindale correspondent on the Hotten Courier, he puffed himself up like a peacock. But it took until the early 1980s before the character was refined and honed to perfection. Watch any 1970s episode of Emmerdale Farm, and I think you might agree that Amos was quieter, more restrained and dour than in the 1980s - when he was gloriously potty, pursuing fad after fad in quick succession, bridling at Mr Wilks' attempts to bring him down to earth and generally being a wonderful nuisance.

1980 was an absolutely pivotal year for the Amos character - with Seth Armstrong leaving The Malt Shovel bar to become a regular at The Woolpack, and Al Dixon joining the cast as Walter, Amos became more animated, fad-ridden and bizarre than ever before!

The '80s were a truly splendid era during which Amos and Mr Wilks story lines abounded, as the show became an all-year-round soap.

Do you remember the time when Amos got into transcendental meditation? The time he went "upwardly mobile" and took up golf with Alan Turner? The time he turned to bee keeping? The time he baked a cake? The time he was cursed by a gypsy? The time...

If all these sound like Amos-only story lines, rest assured that Mr Wilks was always there, advising, trying to moderate his friend's behaviour, and generally suffering!

Fortunately, Mr Wilks had friends elsewhere or he would, no doubt, have gone insane!

Amos and Mr Wilks have a disagreement in 1980...

... and they're still at in 1989. Dolly Skilbeck (Jean Rogers) looks on.

A pain in the neck to Amos was one of his best 1980s customers and arch enemy, Seth Armstrong (Stan Richards). How he loved to wind the big key in Amos' back! In 1980, Amos commented disapprovingly on Seth's loyalty to the Malt Shovel. Seth was just becoming established as a regular character back then, having first appeared in a few episodes in 1978. From 1980 onwards, Seth switched to The Woolpack, and absolutely loved to get under Amos' skin! Remember the time he booked two strippers (and a python!) to perform at The Woolpack - much to Amos' horror? Amos ordered them out and the pub was wrecked by irate customers!

Seth holding court at The Woolpack in 1983. Walter (Al Dixon) says nowt and concentrates on his ale. Al Dixon first appeared as the silent bar propper in September 1980.

Seth and pal.

"Sunday People", June 9, 1985. Apparently Jenny the donkey's braying could sometimes be heard when the "Emmerdale Farm" crew were attempting to film in Esholt - so it was decided to bring her into the story!

Joint Pipe Smokers Of The Year, 1986.

Picture the scene: it's 1980 and only 5% of UK households have video recorders. In fact, video technology had been around for yonks, but domestic players and recorders only a few years and they were highly expensive. So, unable to tape your favourite shows to keep and keep again, you bought novels of all the storylines.

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Shadows From The Past, by Lee Mackenzie, was the 10th Emmerdale Farm novel (there would be many more) and was published in 1980. The author was excellent at bringing Amos and Mr Wilks to life on paper. Here, Amos has been awakened by a strange noise, and goes to investigate. Mr Wilks, disturbed by Amos' movements, follows and demands an explanation...

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"There was somebody here. I heard him."

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"Heard what?"

.

I heard a... There was a... A sound."

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"You probably woke yourself with your own snoring, Amos."

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"I do not snore, Mr Wilks," said his partner, offended.

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"How do you know if you don't? Have you ever stayed awake to listen?"

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"How could I stay awake and..." Amos realised his leg was being pulled. "I'm serious, Mr Wilks. Someone is in the Woolpack."

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"Rubbish."

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"I tell you I heard a sort of a thud -"

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"A sickening thud?"

.

"Eh?" Amos read very little and knew nothing about well-worn cliches from the thrillers of bygone years. "It was more of a... chunk."

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"A chunk of what?"

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"A sound like a chunk. Like this." Amos picked up a jug from the top of the fridge and put it down on the metal top. "Like that, only louder."

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"It was something falling over."

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"What, then?" Amos waved a hand. "Nothing's fallen over."

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"Aye," Henry said, rather dry. "Everythings just as usual."

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"In here." Amos agreed. "But who knows where else he's been? He suddenly clutched his dressing-gown in the region of his heart. "The till!" he cried.

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He rushed out into the bar. Henry followed, much more slowly. Accustomed as he was to Amos' funny ways, this amused him only a little. As a man approaches the golden years, he needs his sleep.

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Amos went to the till, rang up 'no sale' and found the money still there. It's to be understood that this money wasn't the whole day's takings. Those were upstairs under lock and key in a box below Amos' bed. The money in the till was a peace-offering to any burglar who might get in: Amos reasoned that if a man got something, he wouldn't creep upstairs and murder you in your bed.

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He had a low opinion of how much a burglar would be satisfied with. Nevertheless the one pound note, one fifty pence piece, and four twopence pieces were still there.

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"You see?" Henry said. "Nobody's got in. If they had, they'd have taken that."

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Amos was shaken. Then he said, "I disturbed him at it. That's what it is! The chunk I heard - that was the till being pushed shut."

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"Funny sort of burglar who bothers to close the till when he's disturbed," Henry rejoined, rubbing the back of his neck and stifling a yawn. "Come on, Amos, let's get back to bed."

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"Nay, Mr Wilks, I tell thee - someone's been in here. I can feel it."

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"Clairvoyant, are you?"

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"Mr Wilks, I'm C of E as well you know..."

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Excellent stuff - and the best was yet to come!

25 Years Ago - The Way Things Were - Gossip From Beckindale 1983 - Part 4

It all began in early 1983. Mr Wilks, ardent local walker, was fed up with the state of Primrose Dingle, and upbraided Alan Turner about it. The Dingle (known in NY Estates parlance as "HF7" - the "HF" standing for "Home Farm") was NY's property and was littered with builder's debris - it had been for some time.

Mr Wilks took his concerns to Alan Turner, who put pressure on the Estate workers to clear the Dingle of debris. Unfortunately, he rubbed them all up the wrong way - refusing to recognise their positions as skilled workers (their contracts stated that they were all "labourers") and also refusing them overtime.

NY Estates Union rep John Tuplin discussed the situation with his colleagues in the Woolpack one lunchtime - and things got a little noisy. The men were thoroughly fed up with Alan's high handed bullying. Disturbed by the noise, Amos Brearly scolded them all, telling them:

"I'm surprised at you lot. You call yourselves grown men and 'ere you are you behaving like... like a rabble! Do you want my honest opinion?"

"I think we're gonna get it!" said Daniel, amidst sniggers from the men.

Amos was undeterred: "Mr Turner's an educated gentleman - a born leader doing a difficult job in difficult times. And if he wants you to do a job I reckon you should behave like true Britishers and get stuck in!"

"And that's your honest opinion?" asked John Tuplin.

"It is!" said Amos, head held high.

"Right, lads!" And the men got up and left the pub.

Amos moved back to the bar. "That's the way to handle industrial relations, Mr Wilks! One word from me and they're off to Primrose Dingle. The voice of reason - that's all were needed!"

Voice of reason? Mr Wilks was not convinced.

The Woolpack was boycotted by the NY Estates men, and other villagers joined them. Mr Wilks had hoped that as Amos grew older he might become a little easier to live with. But it was not to be. The 1980s saw Amos becoming more fad obsessed and downright oddball than ever before. 1983 had barely started, but already Amos had competed with Sam Pearson to try and win a cruise in a competition, gone in for transcendental meditation and philosophy, and tried to get the Woolpack visited by Eric Birdwick, the hostelry reviewer on The Hotten Courier.

On the first night of the great NY Estates walkout, still hoping for a visit from Mr Birdwick, Amos had banked up a blazing fire - it was so hot that Walter, the pub's only customer did a previously unheard of thing - he took off his cap and loosened his tie. Peanuts laid out on the bar caused acrimony when Amos caught Walter eating them, and, finally, Walter walked out. Amos was devastated: "Walter! You can't!" But, flinging one last disdainful look over his shoulder, Walter did.

"What are we going to do, Mr Wilks?!" groaned Amos.

The next day, Amos refused to believe Mr Wilks when he said that Walter had joined the rest of the Woolpack regulars at the bar of the Malt Shovel.

"Nay, I'll never believe that!"

"Amos, you can't go around playing at God, laying down the law as you do, without upsetting some people. Nay, most people. Nay, all the people!"

Alan Turner came in, commenting: "Bit sparse in here today, isn't it?"

The story of the row with the NY Estates men came out and Alan was very impressed by this show of support.

Amos and Alan got chatting under Mr Wilks' disapproving eye, and Alan invited Amos to play golf with him the following day and to have lunch at Hotten Golf Club. Amos had never played golf before, but did not admit it. An invitation to the golf club just suited his upwardly mobile mood.

"I must be off - collect you about ten," said Alan. He left. Mr Wilks eyed Amos: "Lee Trevino, I presume?"

Amos was suddenly worried at the situation he'd landed himself in: "What am I going to wear, Mr Wilks? I mean, it's plus fours and spikes as I remember rightly."

"Plus fours!" said Mr Wilks, derisively.

"Only it's a long time since I trod greens," continued Amos.

"A long time, Amos?"

"Aye, well..." Amos squirmed.

"A very long time? Would it be more accurate to say never?"

Amos nodded.

"Then you've only yourself to blame!" said Mr Wilks.

However, Mr Wilks was a good friend. He made it plain that he did not approve of Amos' liaison with Alan Turner, but stated that he did not want to see him in a mess. He presented Amos with his own golfing equipment and clothes. Amos also approached Seth Armstrong asking him for any golfing paraphernalia he could provide in return for "good money".

A golf lesson in the snow was not a great success. Mr Wilks was impressed by Amos' swing, but little else. Things got a little heated.

"Don't adopt a tone of voice with me, Mr Wilks - I am trying!"

"You are, Amos - you are!"

Seth turned up with some frankly rather manky golfing gear. Amos accepted some golf balls (he was staggered when Mr Wilks estimated a price of £1-00 each for new balls), a pair of shoes and the cap seen in the picture above!

Amos decided to get in some practice...

... with and without a golf club, indoors at the Woolpack...

... but, sadly, his efforts only resulted in breakages. "Destroy the pub, as well as the good will!" said Mr Wilks.

On the morning of the big day, Amos was hoping that Alan might be diverted by important NY Estates business. He was not happy when Alan showed up, but put on a very brave face...

... which began to wobble by the time he reached the golf course.

Alan introduced Amos to Tufty Billingham and The Major. Tufty seemed all right, but as for The Major, complete with cigarette holder and fierce glare...

Oh 'eck!

In Tufty Billingham, Amos had found another Mr Wilks. He helped the beleaguered licensee to choose the right club for each shot, and was sympathetic to (and perhaps a little amused by) Amos' plight.

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The Major was a cheat at golf. Had been at it for years, but nobody had ever caught him before. Whilst Tufty and Alan searched for The Major's ball, lost in the rough, Amos saw The Major grab hold of the ball and craftily relocate it. "It is me first, after all!" The Major crowed.

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Amos thought it was all in the rules of the game, and happily copied The Major when it came to his turn.

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"Now, just a minute!" said The Major.

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"You can't do that, Amos!" cried Alan.

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"But The Major's just done it!" Amos replied.

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"Has he?" asked Tufty, with great interest (at last The Major had been caught out!). He turned to The Major: "Have you?"

The Major was outraged. "Right! That's it! That is it! The whole damn morning's been wasted! And now this!"

-

"Now, Major, I'm sure there's been some sort of mistake!" crawled Alan - he was out to cultivate The Major in the interests of NY Estates, and crawling was an admirable tactic in his book.

-

"But I saw him, he did it over there!" protested Amos, pointing to the spot. "He did it over there!" He turned to Tufty: "It's true - he did it over there!" He sighed: "I don't see what all't fuss is about any road."

-

"You're not allowed to do it, Amos, that's what all the fuss is about!" laughed Tufty. "Come on, let's go and have a drink."

-

And they trudged off through the snow. "Like I said, I just copied't Major!" said Amos.

-

"You actually saw him do it?" asked Tufty.

-

"Back there!" cried Amos.

-

"I'll tell you one thing, Amos - you're the first person ever to catch him red headed!" said Tufty.

Amos liked Tufty. Back at the club house restaurant, Alan and The Major excused themselves to use the Gents, and Amos insisted on buying Tufty a pint. It was then he discovered that he had left his wallet in the changing room. Going to retrieve it, Amos heard Alan and The Major talking at the urinal...

-

"Whatever persuaded you to invite him?" asked The Major.

-

"I told you, I owed him a favour," said Alan.

-

"The man's an idiot!" The Major opined.

-

"You don't think I wanted to bring him, do you? But he told me he could play," crawled Alan.

-

"The man's a liar as well as a buffoon," said The Major. "Not to mention an insufferable bore."

-

"I can't deny that," said Alan.

-

Amos was stricken. His upwardly mobile venture had found him hopelessly out of his depth. His happy day out was ruined. He suddenly saw himself for what he was on this occasion - a fool.

-

Back in the bar, he sought escape: "I'm sorry I had to leave you, gentlemen. Only I suddenly remembered I had to make a telephone call to my partner, Mr Wilks, on a matter of business, like. I'm afraid summat's turned up - which means I'll have to turn down your kind invitation to lunch, Alan. I'm sure you'll understand."

"Nothing serious, I hope, Amos?" asked Alan.

-

"Nay, I'd not call it serious - let's just say as it's summat I can't ignore," said Amos somewhat meaningfully.

-

Alan may have been a bully to his NY underlings, and a crawler to the likes of The Major, but even so he wasn't heartless. He insisted on running Amos back to Beckindale. Amos protested that he'd get a bus, then Tufty came to the rescue - he was passing through the village and would be happy to drop Amos off. He didn't want to stop for the meal - he only ever had liquid lunches.

-

"Well, I'd just like to say thank you, gentlemen, I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you," said Amos. The heavy, meaningful tone was back again. "I've learned a lot from it."

Alan felt slightly troubled. "Strange," he said to The Major, as Amos and Tufty left.

"A relief, you mean," said The Major. "Glad to see the back of the fellow. Are you going to get me a drink then?"

"Yes, yes, of course - G&T?"

"And then I'll let you buy me lunch," The Major smugly toyed with his cigarette holder.

Alan was momentarily aback. "Oh will you?" Then he slid back into crawler mode. "Yes. Yes, it'll be a pleasure."

-

"I'll tell you what, Amos, I might well drop in on you sometime and sample that beer of yours," said Tufty as the pair walked to his car.

-

"And you'd be right welcome an' all, Tufty," replied Amos with sincerity.

-

"Well, cheer up - you haven't missed much!" said Tufty. "The lunches aren't that good and they're damned expensive too!"

-

Mr Wilks was eager for news back at the still empty Woolpack. But Amos quietly took his leave and went upstairs for a lay down. He had learned a bitter lesson. And with all his regulars now at the Malt Shovel, what on earth was he going to do?