#reggie lass

[squiblysabre]

[haybalemaze]

Dead Like Me 1.14 Rest In Peace

[barty-loves-bats]

★I n t r o★

Barty Crouch Jr • Slytherin • 17 • You wish you were me • Violent bitch

the gang:

@the-reggie-black Regulus, somehow matches freak as well but different

@rosierev4n Ev, my weird best friend, first person to match freak

@rosierpandaa Panda, ... idk what to say it's Panda

@imtherecklessdriver James. Just James

@dorcas-m Cass the lass, cool frfr

@alice-fort-escuseyou uhhh Alice

@trixxiegoth Bella

@cutest-weirdo Xeno

ooc: THIS AN RP IF YOU DONT LIKE IT LEAVE

[homegrown-blorbo-garden]

I'm gonna wait until the proper bracket until i do the more detailed propoganda but here's some pre-bracket propo to get ppl's attention! The first character i submitted is Reggie Osborne. Reggie's basically my biggest comfort OC; she is very close and dear to my heart and she means a lot to me. I am especially proud of her character evolution as i developed her; she started off as a very timid and shy character and now she is a headstrong and no-nonsense teen genius. Reggie's a hacker! She's very into computer programming, infosec and other types of coding related stuff.

FUN FACTS: -She's canonically demisexual, though she probably has not had the oppurtunity to figure that out. -She's autistic! I originally did not intend her to have autism, but as a person on the spectrum myself i noticed that she had a lotta autistic traits so now she has it :P -She's British. If that turns you off from voting for her i totally understand pensiveemoji /J -Despite being bri ish i jokingly call her american in spirit. Her favorite food is burgers, she is a MAJOR gun and artillery nut, and she prefers coffee over tea. -She had a Homestuck (or the Gemhunters universe equilavent) phase when she was younger that she now regrets. Do what you will with that information. -She has severe health issues. That poor lass's body is being held together with duct tape and a prayer at this point -Writes poetry in her spare time! -Her favorite video games are puzzle games and Soulslikes. -Her art was drawn by my beloved BF! (Shoutout to him :3)

she’s so dope omg

[weshallc]

I wasn't going to mention it this year, but there has been a bit of attention and a few kind words. So here are a few Easter memories from Poplar-on-Tweaven.

Extracts from Easter Bernie.

Phyllis cleared her throat, “So if we ever get this meeting started, the first Poplar-on-Tweaven, Church and Crown, Easter Festival takes place tomorrow.”

The 'Crown 7' shuffled into the pew at the back of St Preservus church. Led in by Vi and ushered in by Paddy bringing up the rear.

“Hello, I see the naughty pew has been taken this morning,” beamed Peter Noakes. "That is usually reserved for the Noakes family.”

"I have some understanding of an egg hunt and even the hill rolling, but jarping remains a mystery to me.” Trixie informed Paddy in all seriousness.

The congregation hushed as Tom Hereward arrived in the pulpit, to start the service, just as Chummy, who was sat directly in front of Paddy and Trixie, exclaimed a little too loudly, “I’ve never been more aroused.”

Lucille, in front of her choir, exchanged glances with Tim at the organ and they shrugged their shoulders. He then looked at Bernie, who was shaking her head and glaring at the back of the church. 

“So once I have rolled this egg, I have to go down the hill, retrieve it and if it hasn’t cracked, do it again, until it does?” Trixie said, keeping a wide berth from Paddy who was threatening to throw a squealing Bernie in his arms down the hill.

“They are not real ducks, Trixie. You know? Those ones you put in your bath, those rubber ones. You put your mark on one and the first one Reggie spots at the Mount Busby farm wins.” Fred was beside himself.

“Who has a bath these days? Haven't you all got showers yet, up North?” Trixie was confused.

Fred frowned, Paddy huffed, and Bernie added, “You might be the one at Mount Busby farm, waiting for a duck next year.”

“I don’t think that is in my job description.” Trixie added, but she didn’t look convinced.

Someone with not the longest fuse in Poplar, had sweaty palms and a racing heart and a mouth she couldn’t keep shut.

Later Trixie said that she started the clapping, but everyone was sure it was Val, followed by Lucille. There was definitely a “Well said lass,” from Phyllis and somebody, maybe more than one, said her dad would be proud. Was there an Amen?

There was only her and Paddy now. The sun had gone to its rest behind the Cleveland hills. They sat on Frank and Peggy’s memorial bench sharing a secret ciggie.

[roundaboutnow]

some ideas!

summoning fic (probably Reggie summoning George)

loved one passing away (George reaps their soul) (not sure if it's that popular in the fandom to be considered a fandom trope but they do make great stories)

reliving their deaths

corpse au? (I'm not entirely sure how different it would be than in canon but getting into the body horror would be a pretty good fic)

immortality angst fic (similar vein of thought, it's canon to Dead Like Me but the angst that comes with immortality isn't really explored in the show so that would also make a good fic imo)

vivisection (I wouldn't write it but the potential is there)

illnesses specifically related to being undead

into the ghost zone! (one of the reapers gets pulled into the afterlife of one of their reaps and needs help getting out)

Danny Phantom grim reaper au where no one actually knows that George died and she goes on as normal living with her family except for the fact that she's now a grim reaper and hangs out with some strangers at a waffle house (but her parents are happy to see she's finally made friends)

Dani gets adopted AU! (except instead of Dani it's Charlie. I could see him getting adopted by Rube or by the Lass family before they realize he doesn't age. of course he's also probably way older than he looks so he probably doesn't need to be adopted but still)

and of course reveal fics, which isn't specific to Danny Phantom but still a great trope

That's all I've got so far, feel free to add more!!

wait. how many danny phantom fanfiction tropes can i apply to dead like me?

[hernamewasriversong]

1x01 // 1x14

[mihotose]

Taskmasters around the world

Greg Davies, Taskmaster (UK) Gert Verhulst, Het Grootste Licht (Belgium) Babben Larsson, Bäst i Test (Sweden) Anabel Alonso, Dicho y Hecho (Spain) Reggie Watts, Taskmaster (US) Lasse Rimmer, Stormester (Denmark) Atle Antonsen, Kongen Befaler (Norway) Jaakko Saariluoma, Suurmestari (Finland) Jeremy Wells, Taskmaster (New Zealand) Ivan Šarić, Direktor Svemira (Croatia) Vasco Palmeirim, Taskmaster (Portugal) Louis Morissette, Le Maître du Jeu (Canada)

[dragon-clan-and-company]

Layle had been sailing the seas of earth for several months now, ever since he was able to concoct a ritual to take his trusty ship, The Bronze Wave to the waters of the Atlantic ocean! As he was on his way to an area he had learned of that possibly has platinum in its' depths, his attention was grabbed by one of his simulacrew, up in the crow's nest.

"Boss, there's... Another ship? They look like they may be pirates with... A weird redesign of a jolly rodger." Layle looks in the direction his high-standing copy was referring to, and squinted a bit.

"Ah, yeah... They look to be an all female crew- Wait, why are there pirates in this day and age?! I thought Earth's pirate era ended like two centuries back!" The rest of the crew collectively shrugged. Layle glanced to Reginald, his 12 foot tall iron golem of a first mate.

"They're approaching us- You know the drill, Reggie." Layle said.

"UNDERSTOOD. I WILL SIT BELOW DECK WITH THE BOULDER." They quickly made their way to be hoisted down out of sight, as the ship was starting to get closer to them.

"... Love Seekers? Oh boy, these lasses may well be off their rockers with vitamin deficiencies- Grab the supplements, and everyone tweak your appearances!" Layle quietly commanded his crew as they started to tweak their appearances so they all looked like they weren't actually copies of Layle. As the ship got closer, Layle made one wave as he shouted their way.

"'Hoy! Are ya seekin' some manner of parley?"

@dragon-clan-and-company (Kishi starter for you!)

Kishi was looking about with her small telescope for anything interesting that they were sailing by. A shadow in the distance caught her eye and she immediately had them go in that direction to get a closer look. Another pirate ship perhaps?

"Ahoy ahoy! Who goes there aboard this ship?" she called out, leaning out as far as she could over the railing when a blonde woman came running behind her and tugged on her cape. "Captain! Be careful! You could go overboard!" she scolded.

The red head merely giggled. "Please don't be afraid of us! I am Captain Kishi of the Love Seekers! Pleased to meet you!"

[angelsvoice1love]

Only a Minute

Reggie Kray

You entered the pub, looking around for your friends seeing that they weren't here yet. Frowning, you headed to the nearest empty table placing your purse on the table as you tugged off your gloves.

Looking up, Reggie saw you from across the room your glove falling as you bend down to pick it up. Your silver night dress glimmering in the night.

Biting his lip, he placed the cigarette in his mouth taking a long and slow drag from it before blowing out the air. He handed his brother the cigarette, as he got up and made his way to you while fixing his suit.

Reggie: Evening Miss, all here by your lonesume? He questioned, as he looked down at you.

Y/n: No, I'm not here alone sir. My friends shall be here soon.

Reggie: I've noticed you from across the room, and I couldn't stop myself from coming over.

Y/n: I'm sorry sir-

Reggie: Reggie.

Y/n: Excuse me?

Reggie: Reggie.

Y/n: Right, well Reggie I'm not the type of lady that talks to a man and let's him take her home. So, if you'd be so kind as to leave...i would appreciate it. I don't particularly find myself near bad people.

Reggie: What makes you think, I'm that I'm a bad person?

Y/n: Your Reginald Kray, aren't you? One of the famous gangster brothers, and founders of this place.

Reggie: True, all I ask is for is only a minute of your time.

Y/n: I'll make a deal with you, if my friends don't show up I'll give you a minute, if they do...unfortunately you'll have to stay away.

Reggie: I think I could do that. He replied, simply as he walked over to his table. Oh, please do order anything while waiting, it's on me.

As Reggie sat down, he gestured for someone to come over whispering in their ear. He smirked, as he watched your form...your head towards the door and towards him.

After an hour of waiting, you gave up as you stood from the table grabbing your purse and gloves as you studded towards him and the others.

Y/n: Well, you wanted a minute of my time. Now talk, and try to pursuade me.

Ron: Oi, Reg, who's this lass? His brother asked, as he fixed his glasses.

Reggie: Ron, this is-

Y/n: Y/n L/n, nice to meet you Ron. You greeted with a smile.

Ron smiled, as he nodded moving over as he made room for you to sit net to his brother.

Reggie: I would be honored, if you would allow me to take you out for dinner.

Y/n: Mm, since you were so desperate that you had to keep my friends from entering. I'd say you'd deserve that date Mr Kray. You replied, as you got up from the chair handing him a napkin with your home number.

Reggie: What's this?

Y/n: My number. Take care of it Reggie, it's the only one you'll get. You answered, as you made your way toward the exit.

[brokehorrorfan]

Crash! will be released on Blu-ray and DVD on December 14 via Full Moon Features. It’s the second movie directed by Charles Band (Trancers, The Gingerdead Man).

Marc Marais wrote the 1976 horror-action-thriller. José Ferrer, Sue Lyon, John Ericson, Leslie Parrish, Jerome Guardino, and John Carradine star.

Crash! has been remastered in high definition in its uncut form. Read on for special features.

Special features:

Audio commentary by director Charles Band and filmmaker David DeCoteau

Speed Demon - Making-of featurette

Carradines clip

Original trailer

Full Moon trailers

Sue Lyon stars as Kim, an unfortunate lass who is perpetually abused by her miserable, much older professor husband Marc (Jose Ferrer) who, after being left an invalid by an accident he thinks his wife caused, plots to murder his missus with the aid of a monstrous Doberman Pinscher. But after Kim buys him a mystical African trinket from a street vendor (Reggie Nalder), Marc's plans are foiled and soon the vengeful spirit of his dead wife has possessed her convertible, flipping it into a fearsome four-on-the-floor fiend!

Pre-order Crash! from Amazon.

[alterrune]

Me again, RHM and Reginald. Violet and Alter asked to tell anybody I could about what was happening to them. Should Violet’s parents be alerted? Or anybody else you think should know?

Also, dunno if it’ll help, but the drug injections that awoke the personalities had different names. Blue Lagoon for Henry, Rose Kennedy for Ellie, Orange Tundra for Alter and Purple Rain for Violet.

Yea, definitely. Drake and Claire need to be alerted about this.

Hang on a moment. Right Hand Man, could you come here, please? I need you to take a look at something.

What is it, Reggie?

I need you to take a look at the names of these drugs for me, and check the Toppat database for them, they sound strangely familiar...

Alright, lemme scan 'em, then.

(RHM uses his cybernetic eye to scan the drug names.)

M'kay, so we got Blue Lagoon, Rose Kennedy, Orange Tundra an' Purple Rain. I'll start up the database search now, see if anythin' comes up.

(A metal cover goes over RHM's eyes as he scans the database for the names. A ding sound is heard soon afterward, meaning he found a result.)

Reggie, I found a result, but I doubt yer gonna like it...

What is it, RHM?

(The cover is lifted from RHM's eyes.)

Apparently, those drugs were made from highly concentrated chemicals that can cause an alternate personality with different effects depending on the drug.

Wait...then who originally made it?

The head honcho before you, Reggie.

...No. You can't mean him, can you?

I'm afraid I do, mate. Terence Suave created them, and from what I read, somehow GEOGRAM got their hands on it, and guess what Terence wanted it to not have and prevented anyone from ever making? An antidote.

I can't believe it...that bastard...I had no idea that, in essence, our stalwart leaders' involuntary betrayal was OUR doing...

Reggie, listen to me. It ain't our fault. It's his fault. He already got what was comin' to him long ago.

I...suppose you're right. Maybe the photo of the crystal's structure Violet texted us can help make an antidote?

Worth a shot. Hey, thanks, Ms. Barrel. Without you, we wouldn't have the advantage we do now. You're a real good lass to have around.

[ronmanmob]

Betrayal, my brother - a modern!verse short

‘I’d’ve neva known.’

‘Known? Abaht wha’?

Sensing she’d mis-stepped, young Frances hid in the lemonade her boyfriend’s curiously grinning brother Ronnie had ferried over from the bar for her. Reggie was leaning against the mahogany top having a beer, and Ron, sensing the loneliness creeping in on the new lass’s edges, thought he’d make a go of making nice with her despite how her newness had jolted his world off its axis some. He didn’t find her unpleasant, after all. She was a small thing, dainty and flighty as a church mouse, but she’d also seemed polite when they’d crossed paths before today and Ron appreciated that about her. So over he’d come with his lemonade - ‘Ere y’are luv, on th’ouse’ - and a listening ear, intent on learning some more about his brother’s girlfriend so he could work down the walls his uniquely suspicious brain had thrown up when her closeness to Reggie’d been thrown at him. They’d made it a kindly ten minutes, Ron listening contentedly as she spoke about her college course, her plans, how she couldn’t drive but wanted to learn, before she’d left-fielded him with-

‘I’d’ve neva known.’

‘Known? Abaht wha’?

Head tipped and wondering, Ron watched young Frances seem to shrink into her glass. She glanced over at Reggie, then down to the table, then out the window; anywhere but at him. And then, resigned and scared and in a whisper-

‘Y’schiza-’

The change in Ron’s demeanour stopped her dead. He didn’t move, didn’t even seem to be breathing, but the lash of tension that went through him, how his face drained of colour, went slack then fixed in a gape as he gawked at her - it pinned her to the air. Unbidden, Reggie’s words on his brother came back to her-

Our Ron’s alrigh, jus’ needs i’s pills. F’th skizafrenia, y’know? Oh y’didn’t? Well, y’need tah. ‘Ee’s a good lad, jus’ goes a bit scatty wivaht ‘is tabs. S’why ‘ee don’t got much expression abaht ‘im, d’yah notice tha? No? Huh. Well, like I say. Jus’ keep in mind there’s some days ‘ee’ll be right as rain ‘n some ‘ee’ll be like a different person ‘n when ‘ee is ‘ee can be fuckin’ evil wiv it.

-and they were chased by adrenaline and fear. Exits. She needed an exit, needed to escape from Ron’s black-eyed, dead-faced staring before he--

‘Frances’

The woman caught a little shriek behind her hand; jolted back from the table like  she thought Ron was about to strike her. But he wasn’t. He’d sat forward and rested an elbow on the table while she’d been recalling Reggie’s flippant warnings. And he was staring, so hard at her. Her response was strangled.

‘Hm?’

And Ron’s? Ron’s unnerved her with its calm. ‘Was wha’ y’meant’ he asked. ‘Tha’ f’all I mus’ struggle wiv wha’ y’said I ‘av, y’can tell m’livin’ me best life? Doin’ well f’meself?’

Frances couldn’t rightly speak then, but she nodded quickly. Oh how much better he’d worded that; how much grace he had to have understood-

‘B’cause wha’ I ‘eard’ Ron went on. ‘Was you ain’t normal. N I know you ain’t. Bu’ y’look it. Y’act it. So well done, from normal me-’ He pointed at Frances, speaking as her. ‘T’mental you.’ A gesture to himself now, as all hope for empathy died in the young woman’s eyes. The silence that fell then was painful, felt endless. Frances didn’t notice when Ron took hold of her lemonade glass.

‘It Reggie ‘oo told yah?’ he asked gruffly.

Again, mute with fear, Frances could but nod.

And Ronnie? Prickling with adrenaline and paranoid down to his bone marrow now over what else his brother might’ve let slip in pillow talk, Ronnie stood from the table he and Frances had shared. He clocked the last orders bell on his way past it and, as his patrons turned in confusion towards it, lobbed that lemonade glass at the back of his brother’s untrustworthy, gossiping, traitor cunt skull. It shattered on impact, pitched Reg forward and turned him in defence in the same moment Ron collided with him, full pelt. He manhandled him, uncaring about how the moment looked to his patrons, or about how they scattered and rushed to the exit. He clutched Reggie as tightly as his broad, boxers hands allowed and dragged him through the door between bar and back of house. That door slammed shut behind them, and then rattled on its hinges as Ron heaved his twin’s full weight against it, held him up with an armbar across the neck and bellowed into his face til his voice was hoarse and his brother half-conscious.

Reggie’d go on, later, weeks later, to brush of the affair. 

He couldn’t grasp - even as Ron roared into his face that he’d betrayed him to his core, that he’d destroyed any chance Ron and Frances had at a positive relationship because by telling her what he had he’d changed how Ron perceived her - how badly he’d misjudged the situation. But that misjudgement’s echo never would dim.

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

So i just finished series 2:

Vanya really said gay rights

Allison really said black lives matter

Five is still a crazy psycho but he also is a family man

Klaus just did his thing

Ben ❤️ but also ben 😨

Luther do be a big monkey monkey man but he redeemed himself

I thought i’d gotten over my Five phase and i’m back in it now

Diego behave

I dont know if it’s my daddy issues but reggie can get it 😩🥵

Grace bby 🥰

five @ five be like 🤛🤛💥🤜🤜

I literally can’t remember what that lass was called but like ??? sis u hid that well didn’t you?? she do be getting that dick yet now they’re actually siblings so kinda strange

the swedes can get it i’m sorry but like🥰 especially that young one like ok sis get it with ur ikea yes

i’m so glad they added carmicheal from the comics

The handler

[ladycumhangabhainn]

Dans un autre monde - Part 11

The ride back from Craigh na Dun was spent in relative silence, except for Roger quiet sobs. Mrs Graham was sitting in the back seat with him while a red eyed Reverend drove the Anglia back to Inverness. As much as he had believed everything Claire had told him, actually seeing her and the girls passing through the Stones had made things even more real.

As they pulled into the rectory’s driveway, they noticed a forest green Land Rover parked by the entrance and a young couple waiting.

“Father, look! It’s Auntie Claire!”

The reverend had barely stopped the car before the little boy opened the door and ran toward the young woman who, while looking incredibly like Claire, was clearly too tall and looked much younger.

“Auntie Claire! I knew ye’d be back! Where are... Ye’re not me Auntie Claire!”

The young woman smiled warmly, crouching to the little boy.

“No, I’m not your Auntie Claire. My name’s Clara and you, dashing wee gentleman, must be Roger. I heard a lot about you, young man.”

“Ye ken my Auntie Claire?! She just left with the girls...”

“I... You could say I know her... Here, this nice man is my cousin, who’s also named Roger. If you ask nicely he’ll show you around his brand new Rover...”

The little boy didn’t need to be told twice and ran toward the redheaded young man.

“May we help ye, Miss...”

“Fraser, Clara Fraser from Fraser Press. And this is my cousin, Roger Murray. It’s an honour to finally meet you, Reverend Wakefield.”

“I imagine ye are nae here to bring me new published books...”

“No, I’m not...”

“Well, we should all get inside, right Reverend? Roger, lad!”

Both Roger turned toward Mrs Graham, making Clara Fraser laugh softly.

“A Diah! There’s two of them now... Come, both of ye!”

***

Clara Fraser and Roger Murray were seated in the sitting room of the rectory, waiting for Mrs Graham and the Reverend. The former had taken wee Roger to his room while the latter was fetching his best Scotch.

“I cannae believe it, Clara! It’s Roger Mac and he’s a wee laddie!”

“Hush, Roger! You know we can’t let them know about that... But you’re right, it’s quite bizarre. Wait ‘til we tell Grand-Père...”

The Reverend and Mrs Graham finally joined them, bringing a decanter and glasses.

“So... Miss Fraser, Mister Murray...” started the Reverend. “If I remember correctly from what Claire told us, I would assume that ye are both related to her...”

“You are correct. Both Roger and I are descendants of Claire and James Fraser. I... I don’t know what we should and what we shouldn’t tell you... This whole time travelling...”

The two cousins exchanged looks before coming up with an answer.

“Clara is a direct descendant of Claire and Jamie’s first son, Fergus. As fer me, my da is a direct descendant of Jamie’s sister, Jenny, and my ma is Clara’s aunt, a descendant of Fergus.”

“So ye must ken that Claire and the wee lasses left this morning...”

Clara nodded.

“As you must know, Fraser Press was first established as a printshop by Fergus Fraser, Claire and Jamie’s son... Our many times great-grandfather... When he first started it, his mother gave him and his descendants a task, an important task. She gave Fergus a large chest, containing hundreds of letters she wrote for a man who wasn’t even born yet. Fraser Press kept this chest through the year until it was time to bring it here and give you the first of the letter.”

She searched her handbag and handed him a letter sealed with wax.

“This is the first letter... We have a very specific timeline for each of the others. We will post them accordingly.”

The Reverend looked at the wax seal bearing the crest of the Fraser of Lovat and their moto, Je Suis Prest.

“Reverend... May I ask ye something?”

“Go ahead, son...”

“What is she like? Claire, I mean... We saw portraits, there is a rather large one at Lallybroch and another one at Grand-Père Fraser’s house in Edinburgh...”

Mrs Graham was the one to answer, seeing as the Reverend was clearly taken by emotion.

“She’s quite the lady, our Claire. Ahead of her time, even by today’s standard, right Reverend?”

The old man nodded, trying very hard not to broke down and cry. Finally he raised his glass.

“To Claire Beauchamp Fraser... A unique lady, ahead of her time!”

*****

To my dear Reggie,

If you are reading this letter, then my plan worked and my Fergus’ descendants were able to keep the hundreds of letters I wrote to you through the years. Although for you I just left this morning, for me it has been many, many years. I am now even older than you currently are. My hair is still as thick and curly as ever, but now it is streaked with grey. But to Jamie I am still his Mo Nighean Donn.

I am now an old woman, an old woman who had the joy and privilege of watching my children grow up and start their own families. But I want you to know that I never forgot you, neither did the girls. Each of my children and grandchildren grew up knowing about their Uncle Reggie without whom I wouldn’t have found my way back to my Jamie.

You should received the first letter I wrote to you in a week.

Please kiss Roger and Mrs Graham for me.

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Fraser

TBC...

[weshallc]

This is so exciting, can’t wait to see what happens next! (No, I honestly do forget)

Berns Night (Revisited) 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Call the Midwife AU (Crown Jewels, everyone but Paddy and Bernie at Mount Busby)

Chapter Three: OF MICE AND MEN

“The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men. Gang aft agley. An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain. For promis’d joy!”  To A Mouse by Robert Burns 1785.

“Liars and Lovers Combine Tonight, We’re Gonna Make A Scene.” The Captain by Biffy Clyro 2009.

The largest reception room at Mount Busby Farm would have once been very grand, with Queen Anne furniture and Regency coffee tables. The only thing that remained unchanged was that the original fireplace still gave up warmth and light provided by nature, and the windows let in the light from the same star constellations and the same moon.

The Two Loves preferred antique furniture of a later period and in their 80s comfort was paramount. The room was stocked with love seats, chesterfields, recliners. bean bags, generous cushions, and a rather charming gold settee that suspiciously looked pre-war. Just no one was sure which war. Everyone mocked it, but everyone fought to sit on it as it was very comfy. Patsy often talked about replacing it, but Delia wouldn’t hear of it. “You don’t throw your memories out with the rubbish and there are more memories than just ours hidden within these cushions, Cariad.” That was always the end of it.

The most current occupants of that particular settee to be making memories were Tim Turner and Lucille Anderson. Phyllis looked over at the awkward teen, who was no longer as awkward as he had once been. He sat comfortably chatting to his companion, both of them laughing at intervals. Lucille often finishing Tim’s sentences or him proclaiming, yep that’s it or knew you’d get it when they appeared to reach a level of understanding.  Of course, when she asked the student nurse about her new friendship, she would just reply, brushing the older nurse off. “Oh, he is a dear boy; He makes me laugh.”

He was certainly doing that from where Matron Crane was sitting on a leather tan Whitworth dining chair, probably by Frank Hudson.  Years of heavy lifting before the introduction of patient hoists and transfer boards had taken their toll on the matron’s back. It was why she had found herself in a more managerial role much earlier than she would have planned. She looked at Student Nurse Anderson and thought maybe the NHS was in more tender capable hands than the shitstirrers would have them believe.

“I am wondering if we should start,” youth minister Tom Hereward was on his feet. “I am not sure how long baby will sleep in a strange house.”

“I have been called many things in my time, but not sure strange is one of them,” laughed Delia.

“Oh, I have Deals, it’s fine,” reassured Patsy.

Tom turned pink. Trixie leaned over to him, “They are joking,” and sat back onto the giant purple pouffe she was sharing with Valerie. “I know, I live here. I have to put up with it all the time.”

“So. Erm who is in charge, who has the most authority here.” Tom was still trying to create some sense of order.

“Well, Julia is the vicar,” chirped in Bobby, trying to offer her husband some support.

“But this is not the church,” Rev Julia responded with a warm smile.

“Another shock there then, it’s all coming out tonight, Patsy.” Delia couldn’t help herself when she had an audience and a bottle of Prosecco was being passed round.

“Matron Crane is on the council,” Lucille reminded everyone.

“No, I don’t think that matters lass, it’s not a council matter.” Phyllis shook her head.

“Well, someone needs to take the lead,” Tom said with a hint of irritation.

“I will!  On the authority that I am a young woman on her only night off of the week,” struck up Val, “but I have agreed to come here and discuss plans for Bernie’s birthday instead of having two for one sex on the beach.”

“It’s a cocktail, and its happy hour in the Fourteen Teacups on a Tuesday,” Trixie interpreted for everyone.

“That’s ambitious having a happy hour in the Teacups, isn’t it?”  said Fred, who had managed to wedge himself into a deep red Chesterfield.

“Yeah, apparently Ursula gives you the right change, that’s why they call it happy hour,” Tim smirked.

“As I am representing the Crown. I will continue,” said Val and she did, “we want to put on a Burns Night for Bernie’s birthday like in the old days. Now Tim has told us Paddy is half Scottish.”

“Why isn’t he here?” asked Bobby.

“Well, he said it would look suspicious if he left Bernie on her tod behind the bar on a Tuesday night,” Vi explained sitting on a scarlet love seat next to Fred.

“Yep, in case our two Tuesday night regulars rush the bar at once,” snorted Val.

“I think it’s more that it would look suspicious if he actually just left Bernie alone for five minutes,” Trixie corrected.

Lucille felt Tim squirm in the seat beside her. She knew he thought the world of Bernie, but didn’t like to hear her relationship with his father discussed in public. This was inevitable being a small village with one pub, one church and two of the village's most popular inhabitants linked to both. She tried to ease his tension.

“I think it’s lovely, just shows as my grandma used to say there may be snow on the roof, but there is still fire in the grate.”

As everyone surrendered to laughter, Matron shared a smile with the vicar, both of them confirming Lucille might be familiar with the saying, but maybe not its meaning.

Delia was the first to keep a straight face, “But they are only bairns, wait until they are mine and Pats age then the fire may need a little bit of stoking.”

“Yes, Deals, but remember we have never required the use of a poker.”

Val swiftly continued, “Paddy doesn’t wish to be involved.”

“Why?” Reggie asked, perched on his wooden stool.

Val motioned towards Tim, who was still recovering from the last topic of conversation.

“Because it would look ridiculous, his words not mine.” Tim continued, “and I quote, Wilf had the works, I would look like I was trying to pull a stunt to impress Bernie by looking like I was dressing in drag and taking the piss.”

Tim looked at his knees, and Lucille gave one a quick squeeze. She knew this wasn’t easy for him.

Everyone else also looked at their knees. The mood was solemn.

“We can all understand Paddy’s reasons.” There were a couple of nods and sighs in response. “But we aren’t putting up with any of that nonsense,” Val added with a grin.

This was met with a very large and unanimous cheer.

“Well, I’ve already looked up the Turner tartan,” Trixie handed an iPad over to Patsy via Val.

“That’s very smart,” approved the artist.

“Sorry I hate to throw a spanner in the works, but how are we going to afford all this?” butt in a pensive Vi.

“We’ve already thought of that,” grinned Delia, ”Mount Busby will cover the cost of the costume.”

“That’s very generous,” sniffed Evie, who had nearly dozed off in a leather recliner.

“Not really,” explained Patsy. “I have a friend that works for Kilts 4 U and they are very interested in looking into the possibility of making an alpaca lined sporran.”

This was news to Reggie who followed anything relating to his charges with great interest, “What’s a sporran?”

“It’s where he keeps his spare change,” Fred enlightened, or at least tried to.

“It’s the little purse that men wear at the front of the kilt, Reggie,” Violet elaborated. He seemed reassured by this.

“So anyway, in return for a few samples,” Patsy continued, “my friend will be happy to hire out the full regalia for the evening.”

“It’s not long now until Burns Night have you got some sort of prototype ready?” quizzed Evie.

“Lady K is working on them as we speak. She loves nothing better than fiddling with a bit of alpaca wool,” Delia replied gleefully.

“Lady K?” Phyllis queried.

“Yes, she is very creative,” reassured Trixie.

“I don’t doubt it, Trixie, but she is one of Bernie’s clients. What if the lass sees what she is up too”

“Don’t fret Phyllis,” Patsy interjected, “I find that Antonia is much less forgetful when she has an occupation to challenge her and I am certain she won’t let the cat out of its proverbial bag.”

Jack sat on the floor accidently banged his head against the fire surround he was leaning against, “Can’t imagine Berns thinking; oh look Lady K is sticking bits of alpaca wool to a man’s bag he hangs in front of his todger. That must be something to do with Paddy and my birthday”

Vi was quick to admonish Jack, but when even Tom started to laugh, she decided to let it go.

“What about the little knifey thing they keep in their sock that he stabs the Haggis with?” Fred was beginning to get excited.

“Sgian dubh,” corrected Vi.

“All part of the traditional dress,” Patsy added a tone to her voice to reassure everyone that she had thought of everything.

“So that’s the gear sorted. Me and Reggie are in charge of the beer. What else?” Fred’s eyes were wide, thinking they actually might be able to pull this off.

“Well, myself and Evie have created a menu, pretty much on the lines of what we used to do in Wilf’s day.” Violet opened a small notebook and put on her reading glasses.

Clearing her throat she read, “Cock-a-leekie soup, Scottish salmon and tattie scones or scotch egg for starters.”

“Cock a what?” shouted up Jack.

“Chicken and vegetable soup to you, young man. There will be a just vegetable option too.” Violet’s voice began to take on the air it adopted when addressing an audience. “Then we have the Haggis or vegan Haggis, neeps and tatties and a whisky sauce.”

“What about those that might not wish to partake in the Haggis?” Tom asked nervously, as he might.

Evie spoke up before Vi could respond. “There is always the Fourteen Teacups for the likes of those that don’t wish to have Haggis. It’s a Burns Night. If you don’t want Haggis, then stay at home and order in a pizza.”

“What’s for pudding?” Bobby struck up, squeezing her husband’s hand.

“Cranachan which is raspberries, cream, oats and whisky, or Clootie pudding with whisky sauce or whisky ice cream or a Scottish cheese board with oatcakes.”

Murmurs of approval were aimed in Violet’s direction.

“That’s a lot of whisky?” Lucille remarked.

Violet agreed, “Yes, we need just a house whisky for everyone for the toasts Val, I will leave that to you, but you need to pay the piper with a good quality malt.”

Silence broke out in the previously buzzing, over occupied living room.

“Piper!” Several people groaned at once.  

Fred, who was not going to let anything get in the way of this Burn’s Night declared, “Look, we will just have to bung on a recording.” Turning to Tim and Jack, he said, “You lads look up the Red Hot Chilli Pipers on your phones.”

Tim reached for his phone, swiping the picture of Lucille and him with Alpaca Colin. But Lucille touched his hand, making him hesitate.

“I don’t think that would be very suitable, Mr Buckle going to all this trouble with such a delicious menu and Mr Turner all dressed up in the finest regalia and then having some squeaky din coming out of an iPhone.”

“Your right lass, it just won’t do,” supported Phyllis.

“Well, does anyone know a piper?” Fred replied wearily.

“Surely we can find a professional one online?” contributed Julia

“A professional piper that’s free on Burn’s Night at this late notice,” chided Phyllis.

“I know a piper.”

The voice came from the back of the room. Everyone turned to look at the slight dark-haired woman sat on a dining chair. “Well, I think we all do.”

“Do we, Jane?” Julia asked.

“Yes, the busker that stands outside the town hall in Appleby Thornton.”

Everyone started talking at once;

“I only go into town every second Tuesday to get my hair done.”

“Same here I only go through if I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Well, it’s the cost of the parking isn’t it, it’s free at Tweaven Retail Park and more shops.”

“You can get it on t’internet delivered to your door.”

“I haven’t been since Marks and Spencers closed.”

“Debenhams is closing next week such a shame, that shops older than me, always been a department store in Appleby Thornton.”

“It was one of the first in the country to have a lift, you know.”

Jane cleared her throat. “There are a lot of good things about Appleby Thornton that are not always obvious.”

“Here, here!” chimed in Val, “there is still a Primark.”

“Oh well, let’s be grateful for small mercies,” stung back Trixie.

Much to Delia’s disappointment, Val bit her lip. The ex-nurse and market gardener loved a full house. She cherished her quiet times with Patsy too, but she was the more sociable of the pair. The farm was large enough for Patsy to have her office and art studio and not be disturbed while Delia fussed the alpacas with Reggie. Trixie moving in had been Patsy’s scheme, but Delia was the one who had benefited most from their new project, even if she would never let their new employee know she was a project.

Delia enjoyed listening to Trixie’s anecdotes and gossip. She felt reconnected with a world that was moving so fast. The Two Loves were business women and technology hadn’t passed them by.  It was the music, the celebrities, the trashy telly that Patsy despised and Delia loved that made having Trixie and her friends around delight Delia.

Delia’s carer probably wasn’t as up-to-date with pop culture as Trixie and her friend. Val was now a frequent visitor to Mount Busby, as she and their new lodger had struck up quite a friendship. Nurse Bernie always looked a bit behind the door when the other two were in full flow about some reality TV show.

But since Trixie had moved in, Nurse made Delia’s blood pressure check the last visit on her rounds and she drank tea, sitting and chatting with Trixie. Bernie didn’t need to watch Love Island. She had her own romantic paradise in Poplar-on-Tweaven and Delia couldn’t be more happy for her.

Val had bitten her lip, her new friend was still a bit of an enigma to her. She did know Trixie might talk as if she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but in the last few months she had gleaned enough to know that spoon had been tarnished sometime ago. So in spite of all her bravado, Trixie was as familiar with Poundland as she was with Prada.

It was Julia who cut through the chatter. “I believe I am familiar with the young man you are referring to. He has a small dog with him if I am right?”

“Yes, Reverend.” Jane was beginning to believe she had dreamt the piper and maybe also Appleby Thornton.

“He’s rather good, as I remember.”

Jane was beaming as she nodded.

“So problem solved,” Fred rubbed his hands together with glee, “tot of whisky, a bowl of water for the pooch, bob’s your uncle, sorted”

“No, it certainly is not.” Trixie’s tone caused everyone to alter their gaze, “this man is a professional musician surely, if he has a regular spot he has a license. I am sure Chummy is well acquainted with the gentleman and his story. We can ask her.”

Inspector Noakes had been unable to attend the meeting because of work commitments, and Peter’s Tuesday evenings were spent running a youth football team that Jack and Timothy had both enjoyed being a part of. Alas, Tim had become too rangy and prone to injury, and Jack had become too lazy and prone to chips.

Trixie continued, “He deserves an appropriate wage for his efforts.” She turned to Val. “I believe the Crown has an entertainments licence.”

Val nodded and smiled reassuringly at her friend, “Paddy does, leave it with me and I will also make sure he and the mut are fed and provided with transport both ways.”

Trixie relaxed and shared a smile with the aromatherapist sitting at the back of the room. “Do you know his name?”

“Kevin.”

Fred let out a huge sigh. “So we are all sorted then?”

“It would appear so,” replied Lucille, grimacing at Tim.

“Apart from Dad.” groaned Tim.

Followed by an echo of sighs.

“Leave your dad to me, Chick.” winked Val.