Ever since I left that Cider factory I've had the feeling something fishy was going on.
The workers, my pals petitioned for something to happen, for some jobs
But they kept making us redundant - the old ones first, then it was my turn. I'd only been with the company ten years, but I was loyal and I thought it had a good future. So did my wife.
Now I can't bear to look at her these days, slouching a around at home I am, mooching about,
moping she says. Why don't you do something about it! She screams. I say what do you want me to do? I've done all I can. So to avoid the cold bed, I go out walking at nights, leave about 11 pm. I take long walks down the town roads. You know, I know I'm just killing time, and I don't know where I'm going, but then I end up here, but at the source of my grievances -the cider factory. And it's still rolling, machines are churning out something, ocassionally lorries go in and out. I don't see people though.
It must be all automated now I think to myself. That's right Terry, nothing left for the average Joe to do these days. But because it's piqued my curiosity I decide to take a closer look. I walk down the road, the yellowish street lamps giving off a sickening glare, there's one though that is off and there is more cover here, so I dive into the shadows next to the factory wall. Just going to take a peek, I tell myself, where's the harm in that? The windows though are high up and I will need to use the lamp post and jam myself between it and use it to help edge myself up the wall. Still got it Terry I tell myself but really I'm out of my comfort zone, I'm 45 this year and I could do with shaving off a few pounds. Still where I've got to there is a bit of a concrete ledge cut into the wall about 12ft up and another 6 ft up from that the window pane starts. I just about manage to cling my fingers onto the window ledge and carefully I pull my head and eyes up enough to look in. There is a hum of activity, of machines mainly. I see some men there. The usual cider machines have changed a bit, it seems they've added a few extra ones too on a different line, I can't quite see enough and I feel my strength failing me so I lower myself back down and shimmy down the lamp post.
What could they be doing? What do they need an extra line for? Is it food or drink? The used to make Baby cham as well I remember.
I keep walking the night is getting cold, it must be about 1 am and I'm thinking of calling it a night and turning in. And then I see something I wasn't expecting, wasn't expecting at all. A lorry pulls up, and reverses into the docking bay. It looks like an animal transport like a sheep truck or the like. I'm too visible so I slink into the cover of some trees on the otherside of the road. But I still watch.
A man steps out, kind of stocky with a cap on and I can't make out his face. Not a town person that much I recognize. He hands a slip of paper to one of the men there at the bay and others start to unload crates of what look dark things, I catch glimpses of fur. Then they pull down dressing rods on wheels. But what are hanging down from them on hooks are not dresses, but cadavers, animal cadavers. I can see deer and badger, some foxes even. And then they are finished, the bodies taken inside the factory and the man gets back inside his cab and drives off.
This seem strange, so strange. I wait and think hidden in the bushes. And I am just about to step out when a flashlight searches about the road up and down looking for anyone and then the shut the doors and turn off the lights on that side of the building.
What could they want with dead animals? Surely they weren't going to eat them?
