Thomas Colpeper, JP:
There is more that one way of getting close to your ancestors. Follow the Old Road and as you do, think of them; they climbed Chillingbourne Hill just as you did. They sweated and paused for breath just as you did today. And when you see the bluebells in the spring and the wild thyme, and the broom and the heather, you're seeing what their eyes saw. You ford the same rivers, the same birds singing. And when you lie flat on your back and rest, and watch the clouds sailing as I often do, you're so close to those other people, that you can hear the thrumming of the hoofs of their horses, and the sound of the wheels on the road, and their laughter, and talk, and the music of the instruments they carried. And they turned the bend in the road, where they too saw the towers of Canterbury. I feel I have only to turn my head to see them on the road behind me.
Did you hear the news about last night Mr. Horton?
There wasn't nothing on the wireless.
No I didn't mean that sort of news. I meant what happened here last night.
We get all our local news at 6 o'clock, Miss.
You got a local newspaper?
No. That's when the pub opens.
That's your room. You won't get much of a view I'm afraid.
You should have seen the view from my room in London.
Was it a long street with every house a different sort of sadness in it?
It was a long row of back gardens, and the tall, sad houses were all the same.
Ghastly in winter.
Airless in summer. You seem to know them.
The only man who ever asked me to marry him wanted me to live in a house like that. I'm still a maid.