You can tell the clocks have gone back. Assorted monsters, ghouls and things with white faces turned up on the doorstep on Tuesday night. Yesterday I was in Newcastle, where my friend Mary and I got together to see Northern Ballet dance their beautiful, lyrical Little Mermaid. Walking back to the bus station, we tried hard not to look at Christmas trees. Yes, it's November, Halloween is over, so the shop windows are full of Christmas trees and sparkly things. We looked ahead of us, walking briskly, talking about the ballet with its lovely underwater scenes and the little red seahorse. No, we are not looking at Christmas yet. We are sort of thinking about it, as in what our children will be doing and what presents to give, but that's the secret workings of Christmas. Not the shop window.
The changing of the clocks seems to have made dear old Ambridge kick off. Sit up and take notice, it's time for The Archers. Lately, I could take or leave it. Kate's daughter is turning into mini-Kate (there's a surprise) and they deserve each other. There is a battle for a place on the Council, young Emma up against Mr Boring, who is being bullied into it by his wife. Roy is pretty boring, too, as he hovers nervously round Lexie. Pip is getting back together with useless Toby. Lilian, the seventy-year old gin-soaked man eater, was happy with her new chap and they were planning their wedding when Sleazy Matt turned up again. Matt is Lilian's previous. He is also a nasty manipulative piece of work, but hey, they had some good times before he took all her money and scarpered to South America, didn't they? He has tried to win her back and came so close to succeeding that the nation held its breath.
NB Meetings and social events start at 7.30 sharp. Waiting to hear the end of The Archers is no good reason for being late, unless you tell us all what happened. Will she, won't she?
Anyway, to cut a long story short, when everybody who is anybody was at the Jolly Old Hunt Ball, Matt wandered drunkenly across the road and got knocked down by a car that didn't stop. He is recovering, Lilian is always at his bedside, and there is much speculation on who was behind the wheel. If I were a betting woman I'd put a tenner on the ghost of Grace Archer or young Freddie out of his head on magic mushrooms. But Matt should have taken more care. This is Ambridge. Soapland. It's dangerous out there.
Grace Archer died in a fire, Polly Perks in a car crash. Mark Hebden? Also a car. Both those sisters were widowed young. Pat and Tony's son John died when a tractor fell on him, Nigel famously fell off the roof (and it's never been so much fun since). Put on your high vis jackets, everyone, and your stab vests. And no climbing on roofs. This is Ambridge.