Tuesday, 23 November 2010

Someone has stolen the roof from Bradley Farm...

Beaumont Park from Kevin Boniface on Vimeo.

Someone has stolen the roof from Bradley Farm

The sign above the door at MPC North Ltd reads mpc north: managing people’s choices. The reception area is staffed by people in military fatigues with laptops on their knees.

At the park homes on the moor, a woman in an old fleece jacket with picture of a wolf on it tells me I'm a good postman because she saw me pick up the elastic band I dropped. She tells me that my colleagues just leave them on her path. The wolf woman’s friend—salmon pink anorak, big set platinum hair and a plastic rain hood—says “Ignore her love, she’s like this” and the wolf woman says “No I’m not”.

At Mr Haigh’s, I step over a dead calf to get to his front door.

An old Ford Ka pulls up next to me. In the front is a smartly dressed couple, he in a camel hair coat with suede collars and her with a tidy perm and large beads. In the back is another man in a beige anorak. They are all in their seventies, maybe eighties. The camel hair man driver winds down his window and speaks in a southern accent, “It’s good to see a good healthy postman!”
I kind of nod.
The man goes on “I’ve got a man here...”
He gestures over his shoulder at the man in the anorak
“... and I’m bringing him to see his childhood, er, all the good people!”
I look at the anorak man in the back, he's pulling faces at the camel hair man like a petulant teenager and mock punching the back of his seat.
“Bye bye!” says the camel hair man, and they drive away.

“A load of poofs live there” the driver of the bin wagon says to me, pointing over to No.20. All the bin men laugh and say “See you, mate” as they drive away.