Down Memory Lane (5)

In my younger days one of my favourite drinking haunts was the Terminus Hotel, aptly named as it was at the end of a long closed tram route from Whittington Moor to Brampton. Always a busy pub, it received a major refurbishment in the 1980s and went all up market. However, punters in the 'small' bar remained resolutely down market. One of the bar's serious drinkers was a former travelling showman who could be relied upon to keep us steadily plied with risque jokes.

The drink-driving legislation had an impact, but most of the denizens of the small bar would risk having that extra pint. The problem at closing time was that the motorised constabulary would park up in the bus terminus by the side of the pub where they had an excellent view of the car park. Normally the police car would set off after a few minutes, but a worrying development was the sight of plod tucking in to fish and chips and taking at least half an hour to finish their meals and throw the wrapping away.

Decisions had to be taken: leave the car or take a chance. We hit on a solution. One of our number who was under the limit would go to his car and set off with much crunching of gears and revving of the engine. Plod would give chase enabling the rest of us to scatter. It worked a treat every time!

Sadly, the pub has been demolished and replaced by a block of retirement flats. Fortunately, the building has not been named The Terminus Retirement Flats.