Fair exchange, no robbery

I’m in the Seven Stars with Ruth. It’s Ladies’ Pamper Night. Verity has tried to disguise the pool table with a large green tablecloth on which her Aloe Vera products are displayed. I’ve never seen Verity before; nor have I seen most of this multitude of women who have turned up to Lisa’s latest venture. Also present is a manicurist and a mobile hairdresser. The main bar contains very few men and those that are present are cowering. Phil the Tooth remains resolute.

Ruth is a cheese-maker. When she’s not making cheese, she’s paid to collect wild garlic leaves to cover the Cornish Yarg she makes. Her back is playing up due to all the bending down involved in picking the leaves. Tis the season for garlic. In the summer, she’ll get extra money for collecting nettles. A colleague ripped their jeans and Ruth has repaired them, giving them an in vogue distressed look. For this chore, she has received half a dozen eggs and a jar of home-made jam. Fair exchange, no robbery says Ruth, an immigrant from the North Country and a master of incomprehensible idioms. I ask her about her new man who claims to be a professional pool player. They only come along once in a Preston Guild she says.

Lisa has put on a Ladies Night special: a glass of wine for two quid. It’s French, not that nasty Spanish stuff she was off-loading earlier in the year. Some strangers come in and enquire about the special offer. Ask Alison they’re told; she’s a wine expert. It’s going down very well and the Aloe Vera lady, who was very nervous at the start of the proceedings, is overwhelmed by sales despite the fact that not many of the ladies are paying attention to her advice to drink more water.

Lisa brings me a copy of the local paper, The West Briton…as if there are others claiming to be Britons of alternative geographical origin. There’s a photo of her dad in it today, taken in the 60’s when he worked for a company that, even then, supported the remnants of the mining enterprises. Lisa, who lives her pub life at a superficial level, has a lot of historical knowledge of Camborne and Redruth. Sadly, this is lost for the evening in the midst of a loud crash. We expect the rugby boys to be boisterous but the ladies have fallen into the manicurist’s table and the floor is covered in nail varnish.

I took Josh down to Penryn earlier. He’s off to the Hyde Park protests before heading home for Easter. It’s unlikely I’ll ever see him again. Ruth gives me a hug just in case I don’t make it back in for the quiz on Sunday. It’s the start of the farewells. Once in a Preston Guild…….