While gaily going about our stroll in Wallingford, Billy popped his head into a pub and was beckoned to come on it by a dark haired lady in her mid forties. She was accompanied by a surly guy who seemed to not want his lady friend to be chatted up by two complete strangers, Jimmy being the odd –man- out and showing his strength of character by not chasing never –to- be caught fillies. The filly in question, Sylvia was from Finchampstead and James, her bloke, came from Tidmarsh.
As the night wore on, the Finchamstead Filly drank more and more , her conversation and familiarity increased in direct proportion and her story stated to unfold .She had been married and so had Ginger James to their respective husband and wife, they had fallen in love, left their spouses and then got together for about four years. During this time he would get drunk and beat her up. Phil said “Ginger couldn’t have been very good at it, because there were no visible signs of wife beating”. “Maybe he should have had a few more pints of Stella, affectionately known in local pubs as Wife Beater” added the Cabin Boy.
Both Phil and Billy were privy to more intimate details while chatting to her outdoors while Jimmy kept the coast clear, by entertaining Ginger with tales of fish he hadn’t caught over the years.
Walking home, the Captain said “My mum, you know never liked “ginger nuts” reckoned they always had pink eyes and reminded her of white mice and pigs”. She thought that they were some kind of mutant and this was caused by something deficient in their make-up.”. I didn’t notice he was wearing any” said the Cabin boy’.”Well” said the Captain “How do you think those ginger haired people cover up all their freckles then, I’ll tell you even ,the blokes put make-up on with a trowel.” “Yea, that’s right Billy ” said The First mate.”Look at that Virgin Queen of ours, that Elizabeth the First. She was as ginger as my grannies tabby chat and was plastered in it. No wonder she never got rogered!”
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