The next day quickly became fraught. To start with, I lost the keys to the truck! Nightmare! I was frantically running around searching everywhere. I went up to the cottage in the hope that I had dropped or put them somewhere. Luke’s family helped with the search. Nothing. I telephoned Duncan and told him of the missing keys. Sadly, he found it highly amusing. In reaction to his response, I began to believe that Tammy had stolen the keys. It was highly plausible and I wouldn’t’ve put it past her to do such a thing, knowing the stress it would cause. Eventually, I ‘phoned the truck insurers to enquire as to whether lost keys were covered. Fortunately, they were.
As I was unable to move the truck, I contacted Rich the Roofer as I knew that his van was equipped with a towball. He quickly agreed to help. I then tacked everything down and loaded Luke’s car whilst awaiting the recovery truck.
Eventually, a pick-up truck appeared. It was the recovery company, a firm called RTS Recovery and Garage Services Limited. As soon as I saw them, I exclaimed, “You can’t tow my truck with that!” I got some whinging in response, though they admitted that I was correct in my observation. I agreed to allow them to drill out the ignition barrel. (It needed removing, anyway, in order to fit a new one). The older man, apparently the boss, was grumpy and did nothing but moan. He was also rude and threatened to charge me extra due to the time he was taking. I simply pointed out that had he turned up with the correct equipment, he would not be struggling and, furthermore, “we would all be out of here by now”.
After a while, the barrel was off. Matey got the truck started and off he went. Rich and I were now able to hitch up my caravan. I gathered up the cats and loaded them into Luke’s car, then we were off.
Rich did really well; driving slowly and carefully down to the large car park by the boating lake at the bottom of the town of Helston, especially when at the car park itself, which was full of potholes and ruts. We went to the far end of the car park where there are woods leading up to the private estate nearby. That part of the car park is not council land. It is an area that has seen many travellers pull up for a while and homeless people often use the area for shelter.
Luke followed us down. Once I had pitched my caravan, Luke asked about the cats. I said, “Just open the door.”
“Won’t they run away?” He asked.
“No.” I assured him, “They’ll head for the caravan, then go and mark out their territory.”
Soon, we were settled, tea in hand and cats snuggled up.
That night was the first good night’s sleep I’d had in ages.
It wasn’t long before I heard that Duncan and Tammy had had several visits from ‘official’ people and all their ventures had been halted. Apparently, they were told that they were not allowed to conduct any kind of business on the farm. I was told that the tenants were allowed to remain, but the management of that side of things had to be turned over to some-one else.
Tracy, the owner of the retirement business renting the farmhouse, and niece of my neighbour in hospital,* took over the weddings. I understand that she has made a great success of it. She has also made great improvements elsewhere on the farm. Apparently, she has installed ‘hobbit huts’ and is renting them out to holidaymakers. I assume the dog problem is now under control and the sewage has been rectified.
Chrissie, Luke’s better half, found the keys a few days later!
*see entry Crasken hell, part 6
NB I have recently been told that the farm is now up for sale
**Photograph courtesy of www.yell.com