A short re-intro into the village, i have included a few of the previouly mentioned plot lines such as ernie being targeted for his poetry by Dorris and Chris from the post office. Hope you like it!!

It was a fresh June morning and the birds were twittering in the sky. Ernie eagerly rose from his fragmented night’s sleep; in which he had been frequently woken up by Mrs George’s loud snore’s and other absurd nocturnal habits. God knows he loved that woman, even though she had now most certainly lost all her youthful sparkle and was growing a curly white beard at the same rate as her sunflower in the garden.

Unlike many people, who at 4 o’clock in the morning would be thoroughly peeved at having to awake from their sleepy slumber, Ernie was as pleased as punch. He had recently been deprived from his beloved Village as he and Mrs George had been residing at his sister, Wendy Wordsworth’s, vibrant Las Vegas style hotel in Blackpool after Ernie had suffered from a food poisoning scare. Sergeant Bagheera was currently investigating suspicious circumstances surrounding the ’incident’. However, Ernie had insisted that not one of his fellow Villagers could possibly be accused of attempting to cause him harm, not even Fred West. But Mrs George had had her way and packed Ernie and herself off to Blackpool for a break. Bright Blackpool lights were not Ernie’s scene though. He loved spending every second of his time in the idyllic Village that he grew up in. As you have probably guessed, Ernie did have a rather rose tinted view of the world, his world - his Village. He had always romanticised upon his childhood memories, and held a hearty old fashioned view of the Village. For Ernie this was becoming rapidly harder to maintain as the Village was finally succumbing to the effects of the industrial revolution, and modern popular culture - but the Village would always be his everything. Ernie had a wonderful way with words and being an aspiring poet [as well as a distant relation of thee Wordsworth] it was beautiful to listen to Ernie, in his broad Yorkshire dialect, soliloquising his birth place.

So naturally, today being Ernie’s first full day back at the Village, he was excited. He set up his milk float as quickly as his old limbs would let him and surveyed the breathtaking view that greeted him with a warm embrace. He was itching to get back to his familiar round and encounter his dear Village again, and the truth be told even more anxious to get back to the Wishing Well Café to catch up on all that had been going on in his absence………..