In The Way of Progress

Mary read the letter in disbelief. She sat down at the kitchen table and read it again, hoping she had made a mistake. No, there it was in black and white - a motorway was to run alongside the village.
        Outside there was the hum of voices. Obviously everyone had received a copy of the letter from the council and was as shocked as she was. Mary rose to her feet and went out into the lane.
        "This is terrible, Mary," said Jim, who ran the post office "Who would have believed it, a motorway right here in our village? Everything will be ruined. Our whole way of life gone for 
ever."
        "I agree," she replied. "It must be stopped before it's too late."
        But what could they do? Mary knew that most of the villagers were getting on in life. No one was up to fighting Whitehall.
        "Well I think we should call a meeting in the village hall," said Mary, taking charge. "Everyone can say what they think, before we plan our next move."
        "Good idea, Mary. I'll tell my customers there will be a meeting tonight - or is that too soon?" Jim looked at her for confirmation. 
        She nodded. "It must be tonight - there is not a moment to lose."
        "Right tonight it is, 7.30 on the dot." Jim hurried back to his post office and put a notice in the window informing everyone of the meeting.
        Mary walked slowly back to her cottage. She knew they were going to have to think of a good reason if the motorway was going to be diverted. She sat down and pored over the documents again. It seemed the road was going to disrupt the whole village.
        Poor old Mrs. Wilson was going to lose the meadow her husband had struggled to buy some years back. Then the road swept around by the river and cut right through Joe and Nancy's garden before coming up close to someone else's plot.
        Looking closer, Mary realised it was her own. It was more than likely she would lose a piece of her garden. All the plants she and her late husband, Bert had lovingly tended over the years would be lost once the diggers arrived. That was bad enough, but the thought of the traffic thundering past day and night was just too much.
        How could someone, who had never set foot in the place, ruin peoples lives in this way? Bert had so loved this cottage and garden. It was a blessing he was not around to see what was about to happen.
        She looked out of the window at the countryside beyond her garden. The fields would be gone for ever. No more would the horses that grazed in the field across the fence, come looking for tidbits. But she was even more horrified to find that the woods, which had been there for centuries, would be chopped down to make way for a service station.
        Mary was even more determined to stop this destruction. But she could hardly see herself chained to the fence at the corner of the lane or perched up a tree singing We Shall Overcome. Not at her time of life anyway - perhaps if she were younger. No, they were going to have to come up with something legal - dignified.
        The hall was full that evening. It appeared that everyone wanted to stop the motorway encroaching on their lives. Well almost everyone. Major Smythe-Hamilton welcomed the news.
        "Don't you see?" he said, his voice booming across the hall - though he had been retired for some years, he always spoke as though he were addressing his troops - "This will increase the price of your property 10-fold. The motorway will allow people from London to move here and commute to work. Property prices will boom and new homes will bring lots of customers into your shops. This sleepy village will come alive."
        Everyone was speechless and looked at the Major in amazement. Mary broke the silence. "But then, surely the reason people come here in the first place, will have gone. Many of us have lived here all our lives, but some came to retire from city life. Only the first few of the influx will feel the benefit of a place like this. After that, it will be like the suburb of any city. We welcome new people to the village. You yourself can vouch for that. But a large number of people all arriving at once will be the ruin of village life."
        "Well I still say we should take the money and move elsewhere." The Major looked astounded. Couldn't these people see the opportunities? He had lived here only a short while and had no intention of staying in this backwater any longer than necessary.
        Once he had heard that a motorway might be in the offing, he had jumped at the chance of buying something cheap and making a quick profit. His property was about five or six miles away and although it had been rather run-down, it was very large and could easily be converted into luxury apartments.
        The problem was, it had taken a large chunk of his savings just making it habitable while waiting to make his killing. However he had consoled himself by driving his Rolls-Royce through the village at least twice a day, letting everyone know of his importance.
        "Come on, woman. Surely you're not opposed to making money?" he continued. "You could travel, see the world instead of poking around in your garden while everything passes you by.
        Mary was livid. She loved her garden and could often be seen tending her plants. She was so angry she rose to her feet.
        "What I do is my business, Major. I happen to like my garden. I don't want to travel around the world; I just want to live here and I'd like things to stay as they are."
        Everyone cheered and Mary sat down.
        "Well I feel sorry for you if all you have to look forward to is living here in this dreary place for the rest of your life. Things change and we must move on. Besides, as I've said before, we should not stand in the way of progress." With that the Major walked out.
        A few ideas were put forward on how they might halt the motorway, but none of them seemed to be the ideal solution.
        "It's such a shame about the woods, though," said Jack, the postman.  He had been very quiet until then. "I'm sure there are a few rare plants there." Jack was very keen on botany and had recently joined an evening class in the town. "I was talking about it to the tutor the other evening. He sounded very interested and wanted to bring the class out to the woods."
        Mary leapt to her feet at his words. "Jack, you could have the answer. If the woods held rare species of plants, wouldn't that stop them from being destroyed?"
        "It might. But we'd have to be sure of our facts. I could get Mr. Thompson - he's the tutor - to come along first and if he thinks we have a case, I'm sure he'd know who to contact next. He's very keen on saving the planet. He'll know what to do." Jack was now looking very excited. "I'll go home and try to reach him. I'll ring all night if I have to."
        "Well," said Jim. "I think we should all go home. We can't do any more until this botanist fellow has checked out the plants. I'm sure Jack will make it clear how anxious we are. Hopefully, he'll come as soon as possible."
        "Yes, and in the meantime we'll all just have to be patient and try to think of something else in case the plants are not so rare after all," said Mary.
        "Yes, that would be disappointing," said Jim.
        "We could try planting a few of our own," said someone from the back of the hall.
        "That's an idea," said Jim, his eyes glinting. "Were some not found a few -"
        But Mary was uncomfortable with that and interrupted him. "No, I couldn't be a party to anything dishonest, even if it means losing my home. Let's wait until we hear from Jack."
        However, when Jack got through to Mr. Thompson's home he was told he was away on business until the following Friday. Mary was distraught when she heard the news. What would they do if the diggers moved in before Mr. Thompson examined the plants?
        Then as if things were not bad enough, the Major began gloating to Mary about how he would spend his money when he sold his property. He had already instructed the estate agents in the town and had been told to expect a small fortune.
        I think I will go around the Caribbean before buying an exclusive flat in London," he said. "Ah! London, now that's the place to be. But of course, I forgot, you wouldn't know about that. All you care about is your little garden."
        Mary tried to ignore him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
        Finally the day came when Mr. Thompson was due to view the plants. He was not meeting Jack until three o'clock and how Mary got through that morning, she'll never know.
        She tried doing some gardening to pass the time, but the Major caught sight of her and stopped his car to gloat once again, telling her she was wasting her time. 
        "The shrubs will be lost once the diggers move in. Of course, you could try moving some to the front," he boomed. "But really Mary, is it worth the effort? Motorways are here to stay; you really should not stand in the way of progress. Don't be a fool, woman - take the money."
        Mary very nearly hit him with her trowel, but he drove off laughing, "Can't stay, lots to do," he called out.
        Mary gritted her teeth. Pompous old fool, she thought.
        The appointed time came and went and it was growing dark by the time Jack came running up the lane
        "It's good news," Jack said, hardly able to contain himself. "There are some very rare plants in the wood. Mr. Thompson has already telephoned his friends and they are coming tomorrow. I believe some of them know people in very high places."
        "That's wonderful news," said Jim, who had followed Jack up the lane. "You must be pleased Mary."
        Although Mary was delighted with the news, she was concerned that Jim may have tampered with the plants after all. She frowned at him and he shook his head vigorously, indicating that that he had not intervened.
        "But that's not all," continued Jack, annoyed at the interruption. "Mr. Thompson thought he saw a rare bird as well, although he can't be certain about that. Nevertheless, he's going to ask another friend, an ornithologist, to take a look." Jack stopped there and waited for his news to sink in. Mary was thrilled; there was hope for the village after all.
        The bird turned out to be very rare indeed and once a leading environmental charity got hold of the news, everything happened very quickly. A letter was sent to the Department for Environment in Whitehall and a minister was called upon to look into the case.
        Being anxious to let everyone know that the government took these things seriously, a meeting was held at Downing Street the following week.
        The whole village awaited the outcome with bated breath. This was it. Any decision reached now would have to stand. There would be no discussions. It had been agreed that the final decision would be sent to Mary and each morning she waited at the door for the postman.
        One morning the postman walked down the path with the letter held aloft. "This is it, Mary - the letter we have all been waiting for."
        Mary stared at it for a moment, hardly daring to take it from Jack's hand. She ripped it open and read the letter. For a while she didn't speak and Jack feared the worst.
        "What does it say?" he asked.
        By now several villagers had gathered outside Mary's house.
        "Come inside, everyone," said Mary. "And I'll tell you all about it."
        A week later the final plans were on show in the village hall. They showed that the road had been moved a few miles north of the village and the service station was now 10 miles further on.
        "It's all worked out very well," said Jim.
        "Not for me, it hasn't," bellowed the Major. "The change means that the road will go right through my house to avoid the listed building further on. My home won't be worth anything now. All my money - gone. It's absolutely monstrous. I'll see my MP. I'll..." He was so exasperated, his face turned bright red.
        "There, there now," said Mary. "Sit down and calm yourself before you burst something. Besides, Major, just as you yourself have told us many times, things do change and we must move on - we should never stand in the way of progress!"
                                                                         
                                                                                                                         The End