1. Behind the scenes we had, beside the administration necessary to run any business, Area Managers, who were an absolute pain in the arse and the verbal diarrhoea, that came from them, in the form of suggestions as to how to improve beer sales, had to be heard to be believed. Then there was the run of the mill Trade Reps who thought you had unlimited recourses from which they could readily and easily bolster their sales commissions. The LVA, the Licensed Victualler's Association and effectively, though useless, the industries Trade Union. Then there were others things that I volunteered for or was invited to join, and they included such as the area Police Panel, The Cambridge Centre, a public funded organisation that specialised in helping those with drug and alcohol problems and which I had an interest in, both from the pub's point of view and my work in Complementary Medicine. I sat on Area Health Authority Panels, Drug and Alcohol Abuse Committees, the local RNLI Management Committee and several local Charities and Youth Organisations.
2. During my Coastguard Service there was a very large and extensive fire at the local Telephone Exchange and the whole town was, for quite some considerable time, without any telephone links to the outside world and so the Coastguard, along with all the other emergency services, were called in to establish radio communications and emergency links. Everyone was talking about the fire, as it was the largest the town had seen since a Laundry went up some years before, and a large arcade on the sea front many years before that, and of course all the telephones were dead and out of commission. The next thing our telephone began to make strange ringing noises and when I picked it up a faint, crackling voice informed me that it was a temporary connection and one which could only be used to contact the Coastguard Station and in the meantime, as this was classed as an emergency, I had to report to the local Station immediately. When I turned up the 'troops' were beginning to assemble and a Senior Police Officer, also there with a guy from the Town Hall, outlined the position and the proposals to deal with things. The guy from the Town Hall who's job it was to coordinate everything, in times of emergency, was a waste of space and once we knew what was expected of us we simply worked round him and left him to collect all the glory at the end of the emergency, when the accolades were being tossed out like confetti to all except those who had done the work. My job? First of all was to go from the Coastguard Station to the local Police Station and await the arrival there, of a specially designed vehicle, used by the Coastguard to coordinate operations when dealing with major oil spills. I went to the Reception Desk to report and was told there that it had already arrived and the ferry driver had departed. It was parked in the car park, to the rear and there were the keys. My heart missed a beat when I turned the corner and saw it. It was enormous, or it looked enormous, and was painted a dark blue, as were all Coastguard vehicles, with the words emblazoned along the full length, HM COASTGUARD. MARINE POLLUTION CONTROL. Now buses and coaches can look large at the best of times but when most of their windows are blanked out then they appear to be twice as big as they really are. I walked round this thing and fiddled with the keys. It was hard enough trying to work out how to get into it never mind how to move it from where it was and round the corner, and out of the narrow entrance, without crushing several hundred thousand pounds-worth of Police vehicles. I went back and asked the guy, on the front desk, if I was allowed to drive this thing, hoping he might say no, but he seemed to think it was OK. It was Coastguard, I was Coastguard and one must surely be covered by the other and was the worry of the Coastguard. I went back, hoping that in my short absence the telephone exchange fire had spread to include the Police Station Car Park or if not the whole car park, then perhaps just the Coastguard Bus. After all the fire had only been a few hundred yards further down the same road and might not have been completely extinguished. A Policeman asked me what the problem was and I dare not tell him the truth, so I said it was wondering what was the best way, having never driven one of these things before and where the wing mirrors alone were bigger than the mirrors on our wardrobe front, to get out of the car park. He boosted my confidence no end when he stated it would not be easy, but then saved my day when he offered to do it for me and park it out in the street. This would be my chance to find out where the ignition key went and how the power steering and automatic gear changing all worked, but this soon got dashed when he asked me to watch his 'back end' to ensure he didn't hit anything and I was supposed to have done all that on my own. He disappeared amid profuse thanks and expressions of gratitude but did not take up my offer to drive it through town and down onto the sea front. I climbed up and sat in the drivers seat and tried to read all those little instruction panels, that regular drivers probably don't even know are there. Hoping it was out of gear I turned the key and it started. Where to take the bloody thing, assuming I didn't hit anything in the first ten yards and get arrested which would certainly have solved a lot of problems. Twenty yards forward and then turn right, the thing wouldn't go round that corner; well it might have for some, but I doubted it would for me. Through the traffic lights, hoping it would stop if I had to, and then straight forward through the town, through the next set of traffic lights and then pull up outside the pub, a stiff drink, a change of underclothing, that would definitely be required by then, and finally, use the dodgy phone to ring in sick. I crept forward, probably at less than a mile an hour, fumbled for the indicator switch, which was somewhere in the mass of other unrecognisable controls, glanced right, through this enormous window that allowed a panoramic view of everything, because of the height of the steering position, and turned the wheel. Immediately the first signs that clean underwear would be a strong possibility, as the bloody thing didn't drive round the corner, the front end moved sideways and somehow it ended up round there, and not before lurching violently, as goodness knows how many of its, then unknown number of wheels went over the curb edge. No one had told me that happened when the front steering wheels are set back and behind the driving position. But who cared, I was round and there had been no screams from possible squashed pedestrians and the traffic lights, up ahead, were green, so a little more gas and we were way up to all of ten miles per hour; a very safe speed for driving round towns in this monstrosity and to hell with the build up of traffic behind. The next lights were red and should have presented no problems; they didn't for a touch on the brake stopped the thing dead and the thunder of air and the lurch caused by the pneumatic braking system, and a prayer that the underwear was laid out and waiting, brought us to an immediate halt and who cared if that was about ten yards short of the stop line. Us coach drivers can stop when and where we like. Another few hundred yards after that and then with a great hiss and squeal of something, we stopped dead outside the pub. This was where the brave face had to come in. Engine off; jump out and enter, boldly, the pub. Son, who for some reason happened to be in there, produced a ten pound note and placing it on the bar, bet me that I would not arrive on the sea front without 'bending it.' You can't beat the confidence and backing of family. From there I rang, through the temporary connection, to tell them that the bus had just arrived and that I would be departing shortly. I got a cup of very strong black coffee and proceeded to discuss with son the best way to get this 'thing' down onto the sea front. Turn left at the next roundabout. Roundabout! This thing wouldn't go round roundabouts it only went sideways round sharp corners. Down the main road towards the north bay and then all along the wide sea front promenade to the south side and the Coastguard Station. The phone tinkled and brought a halt to the intense planning; would I pick up so and so, at such and such a point, and bring him down? Would I hell, but politely suggested I pick him up outside the pub and that was fortunately accepted otherwise he would have been left. Son suggested he came along with us, as back up, in case we needed someone to watch the back end and I assumed to also pick up and inform the next of kin of any casualties caused on the way.
3. One bus, heavily laden with all sorts of communications equipment and a mass of aerials on its roof, a built in, self sufficient living compartment and three drivers, all having had a go at the wheel as we progressed along the Marine Drive, pulled up with a hiss and final lurch outside the Coastguard Station. Everyone wanted to have a go and as they crawled all over it and worked out how all the equipment functioned, I was forced to openly admit, when asked what it was like to drive, that it was really easy and there was nothing to it. That night those of us on watch, took it in turns to drive the others round and round the sea front until eventually we all got the hang of it and even I had to admit, it became quite pleasurable, though a different experience, and at the end when the thing had to be returned I would have been quite happy to take it where ever they had asked. However someone came to collect it so that opportunity never arose.
4. Throughout the emergency, as things settled down and became organised, there were three persons on watch at any one time; one in the Station, one in the bus, as I called it, and one person patrolling the sea front and up into the town, in the company of a Policeman, and the watch was for eight hours at a stretch. When it came round for my watch to be midnight until eight the following morning, I reported and it had been mutually agreed that we would basically draw lots or agree among ourselves as to which station or patrol we took up. I didn't fancy sitting in the bus, alone, for eight hours with the heater and a generator, running to provide power, or sit in the Coastguard Station looking at radios, that for the most part would be silent, leaving only the 'steam' radio and cowboy books for company. I had already done both of those shifts, so I volunteered to go to the Police Station and from there do the foot patrol. No one objected so off I went. The police were very busy trying to work without telephones and no one seemed to know who was supposed to be working with me, so I ended up in their canteen, waiting. Some time later in walked a very attractive WPC (Woman Police Constable) and enquired if I was there from the 'Coastguard'? We set out to tour the town, on foot, and I never knew, before that night, there were so many back alleys and quick ways of getting from one place to another. But apart from this young Policewoman radioing in every half hour we were not requested to do anything or attend to anything. You would not believe and I don't think I could even remember them all, if I were to volunteer to try and then take you and show you, how many hotels, catering establishments and fast food outlets there are from which you can get a cup of tea, a coffee, chips, bacon sandwiches, an infinite variety of other hot and cold foodstuffs and beverages, including alcohol, throughout the whole night. When our shift came to a close and she radioed in for a car to take us back to the station and then home, I could hardly move from the amount we had consumed and when I mentioned it, I was threatened with the cells if I ever told how, I then knew, why most WPC ended up over weight if they didn't watch it. I saw that girl on many occasions after that, while she was out and about on duty and we would stand and chat, right up to the time she accepted a posting and moved away from the area. Later I heard that while working in Harrogate she had been very badly beaten and had left the police force. I often think of her, when I see the Police battling on the television news and how she was just an ordinary, though extraordinary good looking, girl and only doing a difficult yet essential job and why there should be all this violence, unrest and disorder. I would dearly love to name her but don't have her permission, so let's just say, 'Susie, wherever you are, we all wish you well.'
5. Sadly, during the time of the fire and it's aftermath two tragic things happened that I knew of. A landlord, at a pub on the sea front and not very far from our Coastguard Station, had a heart attack and fortunately a Fire Engine, parked not too far away, managed to get him to the hospital on time and he survived. A couple of years later, when things were back to normal, he had another attack but did not survive that one. Weeks after the fire a guy, who used to be a regular, but who had been missing for some time, came in and in a very distressed state told us how during the time when the phones were out of order his wife had been taken ill. He ran out onto the streets, in the early hours of the morning and not finding anyone or a phone box that worked, had eventually run all the way across town to the Police Station. (There were no such things as cell-phones in those days. They would come along years later). When he got there it was crowded with people all trying to get some sort of telephone assistance. When he finally got to someone and convinced them of his sincerity, they took him in a police car, to his home, and then along with his wife wrapped in a blanket, to the hospital. She died during the night and the delay in getting her to the hospital was blamed. He seemed to be getting over it and about a year later started coming in with a very attractive, ginger haired, young lady. Then suddenly they were noticed to be missing and everyone speculated that they had probably moved away or something like that. When one day he turned up, all pale and even more distressed than he had been when his wife died, and told us that the reason he had been missing was that his girl friend, who had moved in with him, had been taken ill and had just died from kidney failure. He was still around, although a very sad and subdued person, when we left the pub.
6. During my Coastguard days there were two other unusual events, among many others, but where these particular two both took the local population by surprise and got the town of Scarborough some nationwide publicity.
7. Early one morning a large vessel, heading south, radioed in to say he was having problems in heavy seas, the result of inadequate ballast, and that he required immediate assistance, as he feared he might run aground. A Lifeboat was launched and three local trawlers changed course and headed in his direction. It became obvious that the crew would have to be taken off and the three trawlers, under the leadership of one of them, offered to take the vessel in tow if an arrangement could be made. That meant an 'open' agreement between the Skipper, the vessels owners and the insurers and all made 'over the air', for recording and confirmation purposes, with Lloyds of London, the International Maritime Insurers.
8. To cut a long story short, over the best part of the day the three trawlers haggled and struggled with their tow and eventually arrived off Scarborough. The £ signs began to fade, in their eyes, when the Harbour Master refused to let them bring the vessel anywhere near the Harbour. To start with it was too big and had it floundered in the approaches to the Harbour entrance it would have had horrendous consequences. The trawlers had neither the fuel or the strength to take the vessel to the deep water port of Hull and they flatly refused to hand over the tow, and the spoils of salvage, to a tug that had turned up on the scene, having naturally been listening to his radio, and would have played with the job. In the end they ran it aground in the middle of the south bay and the Coastguard secured it with a bow anchor running ashore. What happened over the next weeks, months, was a fiasco as the vessel slowly rolled on its side and sank into the sand. The exact details of what transpired after that were all a little vague as rumour piled on inaccurate News reporting and anyone, who could get aboard, continued to plunder the vessel. The insurers said, 'No way,' to the trawlers who had abandon the vessel on the beach and therefore had no further claims on it. The local authority said it belonged to the insurers and the trawlers and they must remove it. Both said, 'No, it's on your beach. Your man wouldn't let us bring it in. It's yours,' and so it went on and the town loved it, for it was the biggest tourist attraction they had ever had and the local authority had no way of making a charge for it and it was only superseded, as a free spectacle, by the next incident which I will come to shortly. In the meantime and don't ask how or why, the vessel changed hands on several occasions and a variety of, mainly hilarious, attempts were made to re-float it. One guy claimed it was simple. All he and his colleagues had to do was wash out several thousand tons of sand and at the next high tide it would float away. So they started with their pumps and water and sand flew in every direction while cameras flashed and thousands stood and watched. Having made little inroads into the sand, lodged inside the hull, he couldn't grasp why, at the next high tide, the sand was washed back in and replaced.. He gave up in the end and made way for a fellow, from somewhere inland, who had great plans to fill the whole hull with Ping-Pong balls. A great idea until he realised that to achieve anything he would have to replace the sand, inside, with Ping-Pong balls, in horrendous quantities even if he could get hold of sufficient of them in the first place. Those he did put in floated about in the bay for weeks. The next guy, laughing at the stupidity of the others, removed vast amounts of sand from around the outside of the hull and passing slings under it, placed air bags down each side. Air bags inflated, he stood and watched the tide as it replaced the sand and once again held the hull firmly in place, while the air bags went 'pop' from the pressure. Get out of the way, said the tug that showed up. No problem for him. A few days welding and fastening anchor points at strategic places on the deck and they would pull it straight out into deep water. Twang went the first towline as it snapped and the crowd cheered. Crunch, twang, bang went a large section of the deck as it was pulled off, leaving a big hole through which even more sand would readily find its way in. Bye said the tug as he sailed off into the sunset.
9. Everyone loved it. It was the best thing that had happened to Scarborough in years and local sea front business made a fortune, so naturally the local pea brains, in the Town Hall, had to come along and spoil it. One could argue, in their favour, that it was an eye sore but yet few resorts could boast a genuine wreck, as a desirable tourist attraction, on their beach, and for no capital outlay, making lots of money. Steeped in the tradition of destroying all good things and especially those that did not cost the town a fortune, they hired a Dutch salvage firm to remove it at a cost of £90,000 to the ratepayers.
10. The Neptune, at that time the largest floating crane, slowly sailed into the bay and put a few men aboard the wreck. The colossal jib, suspended above the wreck, began to take the strain and everyone watched in silence as the stern, the back end, of the crane began to come up out of the water and the jib go down and the wreck stay where it was. Nothing happened for a few moments, then the crane stern began to settle back down, as unbeknown to anyone at that time, the crane began to pump water and fill tanks mounted, for the purpose, in its stern. Equally slowly the wreck began to lift and with the crane's engines going fully astern the whole lot very slowly moved out into the deeper water of the bay. The following morning they had all gone, as had the very large hole, left in the sand, from one of Scarborough's most unusual, popular and successful tourist attractions.
11. The 'Navena,' the name of the vessel dumped on the beach, would not be beaten for many years, until an unusual and some might say a natural occurrence overshadowed it and caused quite a stir when it did.
12. Above the cliffs and on the southern most edge of the town stood what was undoubtedly one of the finest Hotels in the area. It had originally been a private residence and stood in extensive and spectacular grounds, but over the years had been converted into what was one of the towns leading Hotels and was owned by a small, local hotel company, headed by a husband and wife team.
The first I heard was could I report, something unusual was happening at the Holbeck Hall. We went along and the place was crawling with Corporation Engineers and various others, of unknown responsibilities and could we block off and man all the approach pathways, along the cliffs, at that point, as there had been a minor landslip. How boring when this sort of thing had happened many times before in other areas and then, on those occasions, all the corporation had done was tape them up and put up signs restricting access. Now we were expected to stand and stop people from going along a very popular walking route, knowing little of the reasons why and there being nothing to see, to either convince them, or us for that matter.
13. Shortly after someone noticed a crack appear across the path and as we watched, it got noticeably wider and so we withdrew. Not knowing if we were to report this to anyone we set off, on a circular route, to come up behind the hotel and find out what the score was. When we got close the police stopped our vehicle and said we must approach on foot from that point; they didn't really seem to know why. When we arrived in the hotel grounds we made for the main crowd, gathered on the seaward side. It was obvious what they were looking at, as half the Rose Garden had sunk to a depth of two feet below the level of the rest and another crack was forming above that. A decision was made to evacuate the Hotel and despite rumours and silly stories that circulated later and are still going round, there was no panic and luggage was not set out on the lawn and accounts settled in full before it could be claimed. Everyone was asked to pack and to leave and they did so in an orderly manner. In the meantime the owners, very wisely, obtained furniture removal vans and the most expensive items of furniture were systematically removed and taken away. In the meantime we decided to move further along the cliff top to a vantage point where we could look back and assess the situation. The paths we had originally been asked to block off were all gone by this time, as was now about half the grounds and it became obvious, from the bulge that was forming at sea level, that the level of strata below that section of the cliffs was slipping out and the ground above it sinking down. We returned to find the grounds and gardens right up to the edge of the glass fronted Dining Room had dropped by about six feet and that nothing had happened further for some considerable time and everyone was hoping it was all over. Plans were being made to secure the place for the night and we were once again allocated approach paths and access from the beach area. The police brought their mobile canteen and the Corporation catering department provided their facilities. The Coastguard were told to make their own arrangements by this Town Hall Suit, so we informed him that we would be withdrawing our, voluntary, support in order to go feed, wash and brush up and have a good nights sleep and that we would see him and his gang of merry men in the morning. He was unperturbed and we only stayed, because we knew it was partly our responsibility to do so and our people had asked us to do so, and a lady, from a hotel, further up the road, agreed to feed us.
14. Television Cameras and crews turned up and filled the adjacent public car park with their wagons and trailers. As nothing seemed to be happening everyone settled down when with a groan and a creak the whole dining room extension crashed down amid broken glass, roof tiles and furniture. It was hard to believe that only a few minutes before that all the tables had been neatly set out in preparation for the next meal. It now became obvious that the slip had not stopped and that the whole hotel and surrounding properties were in real danger. Plans were made to seal off the whole area for the local 'tea leafs' were already gathering and showing an interest in what might readily be picked up. Flood lighting from all our surrounding Cliff Rescue Depots, was collected and delivered to us. We set it up on the cliff tops and all approaches from the seaward side. The police covered all the rest while the 'Suits' and all other corporation employees just melted away. It was a long night with groans and creeks coming from within the building and roof tiles sliding off and with us chasing off all those that either wanted to get closer for a look, particularly Press Photographers, who insisted they had some divine right to be there and were a damned nuisance and did some stupid things, or those who were intent on seeing what they could pick up. Just as dawn was breaking, about four in the morning, there was a tremendous crash as a very large proportion of the main building slid and fell to the ground amid a huge cloud of dust. Camera crews staggered out of their vans to make sure their automatic cameras were still rolling and you thought that in the war torn areas of the world today they stayed with them and to hell with the danger; I doubt they do in most cases after the way I saw them operating there.
15. As that day progressed the building continued to fall; sometimes in tiny bits, sometimes quite spectacularly when large sections went down. That afternoon a very well known television presenter turned up and was so pissed he almost fell out of the car. It took them hours to get him to stand, with the remains of the hotel in the background, and give his commentary, which was written out for him on large white boards, while dodging back and forth to the car for even more swigs from the vodka bottle and to get the girl to mop up the sweat on his forehead. He had no real idea what was going off and hadn't a clue who he was talking to. Later when I took a break and went home for a few hours, my wife told me it had been on the television and that she had recorded it for me. Imagine my surprise when I played back the tape and this guy was reporting live, on the news broadcast, from the scene at 6 pm in the evening, when they had filmed it during the afternoon, and the background they had super-imposed and used for this 'live' broadcast', was the first big crash which had taken place at about 4-30 am when they were all in bed. So much for live television!
16. While it was all happening it was spectacular to watch and despite the fact that it was tragic and the whole hotel fell into the sea; which it didn't. It eventually stopped and the remaining portion was bulldozed down and the rubble removed before the site was landscaped and grassed over and the bulge, created by the landslip, shored up, at an unbelievable cost to the ratepayers, with rock armour shipped in from abroad. We apparently don't either have any rock in this country or perhaps not enough 'gratis' changed hands to prompt them to purchase locally.
17. Allocation and blame were banded about for years and rumour still abounds. Act of God is the favourite, as that way no one needs to pay out. Sod that, claimed someone. Scarborough Corporation cutting down all the trees in Holbeck Ravine, when they were advised not to, and everyone knows that a mature tree draws up fifty-four gallons of water per day and what happens to that water when they stop trees doing that? The Corporation is not fully, partially or even insured for that sort of thing so it must be down to the individual to sort out any claims between themselves. The High Court says otherwise. What High Court; poll tax will double and treble; we will have to challenge that. We are a Labour dominated Council we will go to our Labour Members of Parliament in Europe. Anyhow who said it was water? OK, so how else did millions of tons and millions of cubic meters of soft brown, melted chocolate like, muddy earth slip out from underneath what had been a previous solid foundation and discolour the sea, in a slick, that ran for miles and miles. One retired Water Board Official tried to suggest that it was bound to happen, sooner or later, after the Corporation had cut back and stopped them from doing drainage work. Another character suggested that it was down to a bloke, who lived much further up the road, creating a decorative pond in his garden and thereby altering the flow rate of a stream that meandered down Holbeck Ravine. A trickle of a thing that would quickly have reverted to normal once any pond had filled, assuming there was a pond in the first place.
18. What then happened to the three million pounds that was rumoured and reported to have been paid out somewhere down the line? Some said she, referring to the lady owner, had cried all the way to the bank out of relief from having waited months, while others claimed it was because it solved all their cash flow problems. Either way most of us will never know the truth and all I can say is that during the whole time she spent at the site, while I was there, she certainly didn't show any signs of being upset, nor did her family as they swigged the champagne and whisky and laughed and joked with us all as their hotel fell down.
There was a big 'do' at the Town Hall later when everyone was thanked for their efforts and input, even for those who probably knew nothing about it and if anyone from the Coastguard was either invited or went then they kept it awfully quiet. But we did get something. Our own people agreed to pay us a single 'turn out' fee and on top of that the Corporation said they would pay us an hourly rate for each hour we had been on site with no differential for day or night or for working unsocial hours. We filled out their forms and they were sent off. A cheque in full settlement duly arrived and God knows where they got the hourly rate from or who, other than us, they paid that amount to, but when we worked it out we had been paid considerably less than one pound per hour. The following year they put the 'Poll Tax' up by quite a bit more than the rate of inflation, as they have done every year since it was introduced, to pay for the rock armour and coastal protection. It was certainly not to pay for the hired help. I wonder if that and previous increases and the increases since then have anything to do with the fact that an elected councillor expressed his concern that our full time officials were paid an additional ten percent of their salaries when their salaries were already in line with the national average, as laid down in government guidelines. The excuse given for the extra ten percent and the car allowances and all the other perks on top of that was that it attracted the right calibre of labour, which was difficult to do, to a town that was, after all, situated on the coast. Such was the public outcry, fuelled by councillors that the whole salary structure had to be reviewed. Now all they get is the car allowance and a few, lucrative, although not publicised, perks. The ten percent bonus had to be forfeit in exchange for a whacking great increase in basic salary of Twenty-three percent. A tremendous increase above the national average and one that will certainly ensure they don't leave, however incompetent they are, and also stay on to enjoy retirement. Though many who have retired since then have not stayed on in Scarborough as they probably feel their colleagues, in other areas, have done a better job and created a better environment in which to live and retire, and all with a boost in contributions towards it of over one fifth from either their salary increases or more than likely from a none-contributory scheme based on them. Now we have a Conservative controlled council (2003) who have carried on the policies of the Labour movement and enthusiastically encourage the decline of the area whilst over the last couple of years have increased their numbers, bought themselves cell phones, answer machines, computers and doubled their expense allowances to several thousand pounds each. Nothing changes providing you ignor the continued decline of the town and it's economy.
19. Thinking back there is little wonder we never seemed to have much free time when we worked long hours and at weird times and did so many other things, some essential and some not so and all pursued to keep us sane, if we were ever sane in the first place. We were certainly too busy to even think about, let alone pursue our main aim in life, as decreed to us by my mother, who at that time had been dead for many years and had not been unduly missed, in our overall need to establish, beyond all reasonable doubt, our linage and linkage to the British Aristocracy and ultimately, as she had been convinced there was every chance, with Royalty. Just think it might have been me, as the Prince of Wales, now patiently waiting for the Crown, while strutting around and doing and saying peculiar things. Knowing me, who, I honestly believe, sprung up from nowhere, I would more than likely end up in the Tower of London offering my shilling to the headsman to make it swift. Can they still do that? I know you can still be hanged, even after all this time, for Treason and knowing that lot, in 'Buck House,' some little groveller, of a courtier, would find something on which to 'get' me. After all it is still rumoured, in some quarters, that they got rid of a couple of Princesses recently, who having been used for breeding, had then outlived their usefulness and that they kept the old Queen Mother, before she died, in a deepfreeze for many years and defrosted her only on state occasions. But talking of queens and don't you dare knock our Royal Family to me, I might be one of them, and so therefore when the fighting breaks out and 'comes the revolution' you will find me fighting on their side. No the other 'queens.' Now, despite the fact that we worked long hours and finished late at night we would often drop everything and grab taxis and go to a pub, close to the ancient ruined castle, which dominates and splits the town of Scarborough into two, and there, along with all our staff and anyone else who wanted to go along, gain late entry to this place, which had a late night entertainment licence, and watch the 'drag acts' which were the speciality of the house. We saw some incredible and mind blowing shows and although they attracted a clientele of different 'persuasions,' that didn't bother us and we certainly didn't bother them. After that and often in the very early hours of the morning, as we would frequently all stay behind and have supper with them and their 'artists,' we would end up back at our place and still have to clean up. But who cared, as they were great nights and an amazing experience in some weird and wonderful company.
20. Talking of the weird, well perhaps not weird, more unusual and something rather difficult to understand. A customer was planning a Stag Night and invited me to join them and they're being no objections from, 'her, who shall be obeyed,' I accepted. It had been agreed that we would meet up and start off at this particular pub, where I knew the Landlord and he was known to be a bit of a 'blunt' character. Anyhow as our group grew and we bought drinks, some youngsters, nothing to do with us, complained to staff over the cost of their drinks, only to have this Landlord inform them that as long as they were drinking in his establishment they were buying him a drink with every round they ordered. Muttering, they left and there was also much muttering among our, now quite substantial, group. The next round was ordered and set up on two large trays and as it was being paid for someone shouted across to ask if the Landlord had been included. He stepped through from the other bar and assured them that he had. No problem, so now ready for the next round, it too was ordered and the barmaid duly informed that there would be no cash forthcoming as it was the Landlords round (turn). She stood, not knowing quite what to do and then called for him to come through where he was made aware of the situation. When he declared, no way, our group politely accepted his decision and as we walked out, two full trays of untouched drink were overturned and spilled behind his bar with the accompanying remark that we could not be expected to drink with anyone who, when it was his turn, would allow it to be ordered and then refuse to pay for it.
21. Landlords never 'bar' (ban) other Landlords but I never got back into that pub again until after he left, which was not long after that.
