Peter the Pig

Peter the Pig is my parents' friend. He is a pig farmer. That's why he is known as Peter the Pig. Once a week he, like many others in the village, gets visited by Paul the Fish. Paul the Fish is a man who sells fresh fish from the back of his van. He's a jolly chap, and his fish is delicious. We like Paul the Fish.

The only woman in the village who has attracted a similar title is Margaret Pudding. When I ask people why she is called that, their eyes glaze over, they smile in remembered contentment and say "Ohhh, she makes the most fantastic puddings, does Margaret". There is also Prue, who makes the most fantastic pies. But I don't think she is yet known as Prue Pie, perhaps because it sounds rather cannibalistic. Prue's pies are so good that when Nanny died, and we were all still red-eyed and raw with grief, Sophie still managed to find in our bereavement something to be exploited: "If Prue calls and asks if there is anything she can do", she said to Mum "...as she no doubt will, being a good Christian neighbour and all, tell her she could make us a pie". That's how good her pies are: they are worth exploiting the death of a beloved relative just for the small possibility of eating one of her lamb and mint or roast chicken pies. They would have comforted us, they really would. I drove past Prue the other day, as she was slowly making her way down the road, walking stick in hand, and I was sorely tempted to open the window and yell "Bake more pies!!!". Perhaps I shall call her Prue the Pie.

As for me, all I can hope for is that one day I am known as Becky Jam. I will be a creature of mystery, flying back into the country once or twice a year and leaving nothing but delicious batches of fresh fruit jam behind me. "When will Becky Jam be back?" people will ask, "I'm nearly out of gooseberry and I've been longing for some of her blackcurrant". "Ah, Becky Jam will know when the time is right", will be the reply, "just like she always knows when the setting temperature is just right - that's why her jam is so fantastic!". One day, if I'm really lucky, people will exploit the deaths of loved ones just for the chance to taste my jam. Then I'll know I've really made it amongst the other Great Named Ones of the village food chain.