The Pycost

October brought the shorter days and the colder nights.
"Winter draws on, laughed my Nanna and all the kids joined in with her laughter, most not knowing why. It was Sunday and the whole family were at Nanna's for dinner. The plate sized Yorkshire with onion gravy, the potatoes mashed up with the turnip so you could not refuse the one without the other and roast beef that oozed fat that ran like a greasy stream down your chin as you bit into it; the fat peas fresh from the garden and then the rice pudding peppered with hot succulent raisins. All kept hot on the brass fender that kept us a safe distance from the roaring coal fire but that didn't stop your face and legs from going bright red if you sat too close. The meal was finished and all the women were in the kitchen washing up the mountain of plates, dishes and tureens while the men had gone with Granddad to the Colliers Arms across the road for a quick pint. Funny thing was that the quick pint took all of an hour to drink. Dad had let me have a sip of his Newcastle Brown once, he called it Maniacs Broth or Journey into Space because he said too much of it and you became crippled and fell over. I tasted awful and I pulled a wry face, much to the amusement of my Mam and younger sister.
"See that face Mam? laughed Dad "and you think I enjoy this stuff.
It was these times after Sunday dinner that my Nanna would settle herself in her big chair by the fire and gather her vast array of grandchildren around her feet to read from 'Tarzan of the apes' by Edgar Rice Burroughs. It was her favourite book and soon became one of mine.
As we settled quietly to listen she would begin to rummage through the huge pocket in the front of her pinny, we all waited bright eyed and eager for we knew what was coming. There would be sweets for all and what a vast assortment of goodies that one pocket held, boiled sweets like butterscotch or minty black bullets, liquorice allsorts, mint imperials, midget gems, Maynards wine gums and even squares of Harrogate toffee that defied even the strongest of teeth, all liberally coated with assorted fluff and dust from the lining of the pocket they were nestled in. It was no good complaining about this fluff or dust,
"Get it down you lad, a bit of muck never hurt anybody; what doesn't get stuck in your throat wont get stuck in your backside and she must know because her sister was a district nurse. Mind you I wasn't to sure about that sticky Harrogate toffee because Dad said if you did not chew each piece at least twenty times or more it would stick to your ribs and all the food you ate would get stuck to it and then it would bung up your bum. Never bothered me mind, I loved Harrogate toffee.
While we were sucking on our sweets Nanna would produce a paper bag of her own favourites, Buttered Brazils, which she sucked noisily while reading the story; until the moment we all were waiting for. As soon as all the toffee had been sucked from her sweet she would slide the wet Brazil from between her toothless gums into her hand, holding aloft this delicious morsel she would the declare
"Now then who wants the nut? to be answered by a choir chanting, "me Nanna, me

It was about this time when Dad told me about the Pycost. He had been on the 10 till 6 shift but by the time he had clocked off then showered at the pit head baths it was well after seven before he cycled the short distance down the lane from the pit yard to the houses where we lived. The lane was bare earth, bordered by trees and bushes and without any kind of lighting unless there was a moon. The trees made the lane dark even when it was light everywhere else. I stood in the backyard looking up the street to watch for my Dads old bike emerging from the dark tree lined tunnel into the light of the one gas lamp we had in the middle of the terrace. This night he fairly shot out of the lane into the light, and I opened the gate so he could ride straight into the yard. I waved and noticed he kept looking over his shoulder as he pedalled, that was unusual as he normally freewheeled down the street. He turned into the gate so fast I had to jump out of his way as he stopped with a squeal of the brakes.
"What are you in such a hurry for Dad? It is Wednesday it's only corned beef hash
"Quick son help me to cover the bike and get inside he panted all out of breath. We had the tarpaulin over the bike in record time and Dad bundled us through the back door, hopping along while he took of his bike clips. He almost tore off his cap and his jacket, which he hung up on their nails on the back of the door and as he stood on the sheet of newspaper especially put there just before he got home and I helped him to unlace his work boots before he sank into his leather armchair by the fire. We nearly ran back to his chair to find out what the rush was all about. Our kid wanted to fetch Mam from the scullery but Dad said not to as he didn't want to worry her. We were really worried by now, had there been an accident down the pit? We asked, thankful that at least he was not hurt..
"No said Dad "something worse.
Something worse, what could possibly worse than the biggest fear in the village?
"We were coming down the lane, you know how dark and bumpy it is and nobody bothers with bike lamps 'cos we all know every bump, except Geordie Stephens who always has his carbide lamp on the front of his bike; when all of a sudden a huge pycost ran out of the bushes and across the lane. It was the biggest pycost I've ever seen. We all saw it in the light from Geordies lamp, all brown and knobbly looking, sort of crusty you might say. Anyway it was the biggest pycost any of had ever seen and I got out of there sharp.
"Are they dangerous Dad? said our kid her eyes wide and lips trembling.
"Dangerous!! I'll say they are, a really old one could kill a man Dad replied.
I just sat there and thought of all the strange creatures that I loved to read about in my encyclopaedia that I got last Christmas, I knew about anacondas that could eat a whole pig and whales that could swallow millions of plankton in one go but I had never heard of a pycost. I was tempted to go and get my encyclopaedia to see if I had missed it but instead I waited for Dad to tell us more. Just then Mam came in from the scullery and began dishing up platefuls of steaming hot corned beef hash.
"Great, my favourite, come on up to the table now before it gets cold said Dad getting up from his chair.
"Did I ever tell you what NCB means son? No Corned Beef he laughed as he began to tuck into the hash.
"But Dad, tell us about the pycost said our kid.
"Enough about that, we are safe in here, the door is shut and no pycost will get to us
Mam listened to us and looked just as puzzled as we were.
"What was it you said you saw pet? she asked Dad.
"A great big pycost pet, but don't go on about it you'll frighten the bairns
I could not wait any longer, "Dad!! what's a pycost?
Dad looked at me, swallowed his mouthful and said quietly, "about two bob at the corner shop.
My sister, mother and I just looked at him bewildered, then he winked and then I got it and we both laughed but Mam and my sister still had puzzled faces.