Newsletter - National Field Archery Society

8
Tea Tent Tales:
Hollow Tree Field Archers
YOU’VE forgotten what?’ Lucy raised her eyebrows and
tried to keep her exasperation in check. She had been on
shoots and forgotten to take her lunch. She knew people
who had left their walking boots behind or maybe even their
arm guard. But the bow itself?
How could something so essential to the day be the one
thing he’d forgotten to bring? Some people really are clueless,
Lucy Green sighed. As part of the host club, she was
manning the admin tent for the morning. At least this guy –
she looked at the booking sheet again – Alan Johnson, had
managed to arrive early enough to realise this essential
piece of kit was missing before it was too late to do anything
about it.
‘We can lend you a club bow if you like,’ Lucy told him. ‘I’ll
get my dad to sort you something out.’
‘Cheers love.’ Alan managed to look suitably chastened and
fumbled about in his pockets for the shoot fee. Lucy called
out to her father, who was standing over by the bacon
buttie marquee.
‘You’ll turn into a bacon buttie if you don’t watch it, old
man!’ She knew that comment would have him dashing over in
a flash to give her a bit of verbal. Before he had a chance to
swallow the mouthful of food he was chewing, Lucy held her
hand up and quickly explained Alan’s situation. The two men
exchanged a few words, for some reason finding it highly
amusing that they were both named Alan, and ambled off
together discussing man-things in animated tones.
Lucy soon forgot about them as she started handing out
score cards and taking shoot fees from the other archers
who were gradually arriving in dribs and drabs.
The sky was clear and it looked like it was set to be brilliant
day with good camaraderie, decent catering provided by
the local WI and, despite the chill in the air earlier that
morning, it was really starting to brighten up.
Lucy felt herself brightening up too, with a flash of red in
her cheeks as Callum, another member of her club, walked
into view talking with a group of four or five others. She
could just make out their friendly voices but not the words.
As she watched a huge uproar of laughter came from the
small crowd and almost everyone in the admin area turned to
see what all the fuss was about. Lucy smiled as she realised
Alan Johnson now had a longbow in hand and must have been
the butt of the joke for leaving his own at home.
Lucy had been a member of the club for years but had only
recently started to be noticed by others, for so long she
had only ever been Alan and Janine’s daughter. Now she was
sixteen, pretty and – oh no, he was coming over! Callum didn’t
look happy, however.
‘Where’s your dad?’ he asked gruffly. ‘He’s given that idiot
someone else’s bow.’
‘Is there something wrong?’ Gav Pridham, their club chairman,
strode into the admin tent with two marshalls, John
Banks and Joan Wallace, close behind. Gav was a tall, burly
man with a fiercely dark goatee that made him look severe
by Moira Hodgkinson
though his overall nature was mild and gentle.
‘Alan Johnson, from Cedar View Club, turned up without his
bow. Turns out our Alan went off to get him a club bow. But
look at that!’ As one the gathered crew turned to look at
Alan. They looked back at each other and then back at Alan.
A much larger crowd was starting to gather round the open
space by the marquees and time was getting on. A couple of
late comers, a father and son, hurried over to the desk and
Lucy broke away from the others to take their money and
issue them with score cards.
‘It’s Brian and Adam Blake,’ The man told her gruffly, her
first rude punter of the day. ‘You’ve given me the wrong
cards.’
‘Sorry,’ Lucy muttered, ‘I was just a bit distracted.’ The
conversation behind her was starting to get heated and as
she continued to check off her list of who had booked in and
those yet to arrive, Lucy caught the gist of what was being
said.
Alan Johnson had walked off towards to the lock-up with
her dad, Alan Marshall, to see about the loan of a club bow.
Alan J had been caught short so Alan M said he would dig
out something suitable and that he would leave the club bow
leaning up against Alan J’s car for him. Alan J, returning
from his comfort stop, had seen the bow waiting for him,
marvelled at what high quality and make it was for a club
bow and sauntered off with it quite happily, proudly displaying
to his circle of mates his bow-for-the-day.
Looking at him with that bow now, however, it was obvious
to everyone in the club that Alan J of Cedar View was not
holding a club bow or one that had ever belonged to Alan M
or anyone else associated with Hollow Tree FA. Nor had anyone
seen Alan M since then to check with him what was
going on.
Callum’s voice - like silky dreams to Lucy’s ears - floated
over the crew loud and clear. ‘It’s a really nice bow, but it’s
not one of ours.’ He folded his arms and the gathered men
stood around mumbling for a few more minutes before Gav
decided enough was enough.
‘Come on, let’s get this shoot started. I’ll ask who it belongs
to - there must be somebody wondering where the hell they
left it.’
‘Lucy, I take it nobody’s been asking at the desk?’ Callum
asked. Lucy shook her head.
‘Good morning everyone!’ Gav was like a master of ceremonies,
striding confidently up to the front of the crowd,
standing on a little stool to be seen above the sea of heads,
his voice ringing out clearly as he went through the procedures
for safety and lunch. They were having a shootthrough,
which pleased the WI ladies as it meant they wouldn’t
have a sudden rush of customers all at once. Gav had no
response from his queries about the bow Alan J had picked
up so it was agreed that he would shoot it for the day and
then leave it with Hollow Tree for its owner to pick up.
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