Joan
My partner, the love of my life and the voice of reason. Dislikes boats, water, knitwear and lack of sleep. Likes spag-bol and scented tissues. We met online and have been together for several years despite her growing disbelief at my increasingly mad existence. One day we will be married but she has already made me promise never to refer to her as "Mrs Ronald Summers". I love her very much. |
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My Daughter
Age 6 - The result of a romance with a girl called Sue. I don't see my precious girl as much as I would like on account of her and Sue living in Greenland now (Sue has a passion for the Northern Lights), but I try to telephone her often. She briefly decided she would live with us (Joan and me) here in England, but once she was here she found the weather far too hot and has since returned to Greenland. She likes bikes. I adore her. |
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Parents
Bought me a magic set then disowned me. Well other things happened too but they're the two most significant. They disowned me because I would not continue the family tradition and become a farmer, like my brother. They have a large barn which I no longer have access too. Shame. |
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Martin Ballswick
Ex-BBC employee, campaigner against ghost shows. We met at sixth form college and often demonstrated together about various good causes. He's an ex-friend now following a dispute over Joan's affections - he stole my online identity and 'had relations' with Joan while posing as me. I've crossed him off my Christmas card list. |
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Nick and Sally
Friends of ours. Well I say friends, but to be honest that stretches the truth somewhat. Sally is a miserable, complaining, vile, beady-eyed, bitter little woman with a face like a wet weekend. Makes lovely scones though. Nick is pathetically spineless and dull, and will accept any insult thrown at him by his pug-like wife. He does, however, show interest in my thimbles so I can tolerate him in small doses. Joan seems to think they’re both wonderful so they are invited to our house with depressing regularity. Not dead. Unfortunately. |
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Ian Pollack
My boss. When things are going well he's ever so nice, but when I make a mistake (which happens more than I would like) he's not so friendly. When I was helping one of the big lorries to park in the yard and I didn't really notice his new car and so didn't really direct the lorry away from it and it ended up a bit dented (well a lot dented actually), he was rather rude to me. But generally he's quite nice. |
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George
My brother. A man of few words and fewer thoughts. The eponymous Village Idiot. We are no longer in touch because he believed every word my parents said about me. And I'm not one to pick holes but I am absolutely not a "twatty little city boy who doesn't know his arse from his elbow". |
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Julia Riceweaver
Friend and neighbour of 15 years. Devoted to horses, eclectic work history. Strong political beliefs shared by myself that the country "isn't what it used to be". Dead. |
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My Dear Old Badger
Was my muse and inspiration. He (or she) would often snuffle into my garden late at night and devour the sandwiches I used to leave out for him (or her). He (or she) would happily eat while I spoke about my troubles and he (or she) never judged me. Unfortunately he (or she) drank meths and that was the end of our friendship. Dead. |
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Barney
My Giant Schnauzer/Collie crossbreed. He's a wonderful dog - floppy ears, big tongue and always pleased to see me. He's a bit stupid though and often gets himself stuck in odd places. The last place was Joan's tumble drier. Now he's blind in one eye and deaf in one ear he's not as adventurous as he used to be but I still think he's great. I'll miss him when he's dead. |
