Free The Darling Buds of June by Frankie Lassut

THE DARLING
BUDS OF JUNE
     
     
    Copyright by
Frankie Lassut 2015
     
    Published by
Wonky Books at Smashwords
     
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    EPUB ISBN:
978-1- 910103-66-1
    EBOOK ISBN:
978-1-910103-67-8
     
     
    This is a
little bit of daftness for Shakespeare fans or non-Shakey fans who
fancy a smile or two, and maybe especially those who had
Shakespeare rammed down their throat at school in the name of
education. It is mostly true, but ok, the true bits have been
coloured in a little to make it more interesting. It’s written in
my own style which I call Friction i.e. fact and fiction. The
trouble is, when publishing, there is no button for Friction; so I
thought I’d tell you here (which I think is very nice of me).
    This goofy
story is based in the West Midland’s Hamlet of Alcester. It was
born through the genuine animosity between said town and Stratford
Upon Avon and nearby as the crow flies; after it has nabbed some of
someone’s pint in Stratford ... (still, it was the happiest crow in
Warwickshire for a short while). Amusingly, I actually got told off
by a lady in the early days of this little work, because she was
upset with me calling the place Stratford On Avon; I didn’t realise
I was being an ignorant jerk. She kindly corrected me, “It’s ‘Apon’
dear, ‘Apon’!” Very sorry, please accept my most humble apologies.
Interestingly, the name Avon, the base for the Apon, comes from the
Welsh for river i.e. afon, or something like that. I heard that on
Who Wants to be a Millionaire.
    The people of
Alcester, the ones I knew, were in a state of being pleasantly
narked each time Stratford was mentioned because the ‘Apon’ mob
were getting lots of tourism grant money while ‘they’ were being
overlooked (grrrr!). That’s because there is, erm, nothing much in
Alcester and they have no claim to fame. I have though seen a
lovely white mallard on the river, a little albino quacker ... not
quite a swan, but nevertheless it was, erm, an albino mallard and
not an ugly duckling. But Stratford aside, Alcester couldn’t even
get on with their direct neighbours in posher Oversley Green
because of property price differences. Maybe they still can’t? The
Oversley Greenies don’t seem to mind so much. They still enjoy
going shopping in Alcester for expensive antiques, because their
Rollers can just fit in the main street. They told me all this in
the local cafe and so, I thought it would be nice to do something
for them tourist-wise, because I’m basically, extremely lovely and
quite creative in a mad sort of way. Quite what though? I had no
idea, but, when you’re into the arts, the Muse is never far away
when the artist has been triggered, or ‘inspired’ as it’s
called.
    On the way back
to Coventry in the car after the first visit, having fun giving our
photography to people with outlets who would be kind enough to
stock it, Evo drove while I snoozed, and then it began ... the
story began to write itself in my mind, with the usual picture show
(it’s brilliant in my head sometimes) and we both had a good laugh.
The only slight glitch was, Alcester people didn’t laugh because,
unfortunately, they can’t laugh at themselves; a big problem for
‘anyone’ (don’t take life so seriously?). Also, the head of the
local writing group didn’t like me, or the idea, because he didn’t
get the inspiration (what’s the name of that group? JLS! Insert e a
o & u?) ... I’m not laughing, honest. Maybe he just didn’t ask
‘his’ muse.
    This then is a
bit of spoofy fun, so I