The Moon Sixpence

A Memory of Reach.

When my mother first bought the 'Pink' cottage, at the edge of the fen, it was very dilapidated, the barn in the back was almost gone, we had no electricity, no running water, the ceilings were too low, the stairs were falling down. My first memory of the place was my mother gardening, I would 'line up' worms in a row, of course they wriggled away. My fifth birthday party was held at the hall, just up the road. We kept horses in Mr Wells's field at the end of the village (Burwell Road side), we would ride on Devil's Dyke, or out on the fens, sometimes to the village shop, (run by Mr Seargent I think?). The dairy farmer used to drive his cows on to the green and down to the field by the dyke, then home again every day. The Lord Mayor used to come yearly and throw new pennies about for the children. I have recently returned to see the cottage, it is very grand now, but the old church opposite is still standing in ruins. The shop is gone, and there is a pub across the green. Mr Wells told me stories of when he was a child, how they held horse fairs on the common. His old house had no running water, all his life he washed in cold water outside. He had many stuffed animals about the house, it was facinating as a child to walk round his home. His farm is gone now, the land is built with bungalows.
Down the road in Burwell they still have that fantastic pastry shop, their flapjacks haven't changed!

---

---