"Hungerford" drabbles by Neville Hunt

Passing place

Hungerford #3

Hungerford is the place for funerals. Our impromptu visit to the McBrevities revealed not only that they’d been to a funeral there too, last week, but for two-not-oneupmanship, they had also been to two more funerals there earlier this year. It seems that Hungerford might be a passing place, rather than a place to live.

Our deceased centenarian though put her own longevity down to cider vinegar and honey daily. I couldn’t drink alcohol, as I was driving, but Steve was all out of cider vinegar so I hoped that his tonic water might do the trick too.

Kicking out

Hungerford #2

Arriving at the M25 from the west around 6pm weekdays you can expect gridlock. The caterers having finally kicked us out of the wake at 5pm, we expected a grim schlepp home. So we took a cross-country route, cutting the corner to avoid the regular M25 trouble spots. Mistake! Traffic trouble ahead. My navigator suddenly said “Turn left at the next roundabout and cut through past the McB’s house....”

“Drive past?” I asked. “Let’s call in!”

We did... and the planned half-hour visit expanded greatly. We arrived home very late, having been kicked out twice in a day.

Overdosing on loveliness

Hungerford #1

It was a lovely church in a lovely Berkshire town sitting on the bank of the lovely Kennet and Avon Canal and full of really lovely people. The subject of this memorial was Mary, a centenarian and woman of great fun and radiant beauty, the latter a characteristic which had been passed on through her three beautiful daughters, their daughters and their daughters’ daughters. And sideways this characteristic was evident in the cousins’ and their issue too.

I’d never been to such an event with so many beautiful people.

And as always, I had my own beauty at my side.