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by Johnny Glover
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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!

Coming soon.......Colly in Your Mailbox! Yes Cauliflower Drove is now available via a purpose-created mailing list. Have each and every episode mailed directly to your mailbox rather then having to access it here within Ely On-Line. Make life easy.... get Colly in your mailbox by sending an e-mail to collymail@ely.org.uk


Episode 63 - "The Reg Dixon Diaries Part One" (May 19th 1998 11:45)

yax Yaxley Farcett was standing on the doorstep of Chestnut Farm, home of the late Reg Dixon. Farcett had taken his partner, Brian Worthington, back to Ealham Police station with strict instructions that the soil sample and barrel tap should be sent immediately to Dr. Burton Coggles in Cambridge. For the first time, Yaxley sensed that the incident of the deranged pigs and the slaying of Dixon were connected in some way. He had been next door to get the key from Dixon’s neighbour, Margary Brancaster. The poor woman was distraught. She had found Dixon to be the perfect neighbour; polite, quiet, thoughtful and always ready with a smile and time to chat, so she said. Other than that Farcett could not elicit any further information. Farcett slipped the key into the lock and the door opened with the slightest of creaks. Stepping into the gloom, produced by closed curtains, Farcett’s first impression was that this was the house of an old person. Strange, as Dixon was only thirty five years old. He left the curtains drawn as he was sure that Mrs. Brancaster had been in and closed them as a mark of respect. The living room contained a battered three piece, a TV, a sideboard that looked as if it was a family heirloom and a huge oak bookshelf, filled bookshelfwith fusty looking old hardbacks, battered paperbacks, folders, notebooks and files. All of this was pushed into the shelves in no particular order and Farcett wondered how he could ever have found anything. The whole bookcase looked like it had just been rifled through by the fraud squad. Farcett left the living room and stuck his head into the kitchen. Nothing special to look at in there; a bachelors kitchen. What looked like Thursday nights takeaway containers lay discarded on the side and a quick examination of the fridge revealed some beer, a tub of margarine and three bananas. Dixon obviously hadn’t entertained for a while. Back in the living room, Farcett noticed a door in the corner. He had missed it before in the dim light. Upon opening it, he was instantly brought back to 1998. This was Dixon’s study and it was full of gadgets. Beneath a window was a large table with a computer on it and along the back wall were a stereo system and rows of shelves, heaving with more books and files along with CD’s, tapes, records and videos. A shelf at the side of the window revealed a row of old books, which on closer bookinspection were diaries. All of the same type, A5 day per page, they were either blue or black in colour. Obviously a creature of habit, thought Farcett. A quick scan of the diaries revealed that he had begun documenting his life in 1976 up until the newest looking diary of 1998. Farcett took the latest one off the shelf and flicked through it’s pages to find the last entry. True enough, it was Thursday the seventeenth. A creature of habit. Farcett replaced the book without reading further; plenty of time for that later. He sat down in front of the computer and switched it on. It flickered into life and a box appeared asking him for the password. Farcett typed in ‘Reg’. No good. He then tried ‘Dixon’. No joy. He looked up and saw on the wall a fading poster of a football team. It big ronwas Cambridge United from 1978, the year before Johnny Swift came down, thought Yaxley idley. There amongst the promotion winning team of that year was a man Farcett instantly recognised. Looking fitter and less tanned but still with that facade of smiling charm and confidence was none other than Ron Atkinson. Farcett had forgotten that he had originally made his name in football management in the lower leagues. Looking down at the keyboard and the password box, Yaxley typed in  "BIGRON" ............ Password Accepted !!

The prologue - Episode One -  Episode 2 - Episode 3 - Episode 4 -  Episode 5 - Episode 6 - Episode 7 -  Episode 8 -  Episode 9 - Episode 10 - Episode 11- Episode 12 - Episode 13 - Episode 14 - Episode 15 - Episode 16 - Episode 17 - Episode 18 - Episode 19 - Episode 20 - Episode 21 - Episode 22 -  Episode 23 - Episode 24 -  Episode 25 - Episode 26 -  Episode 27 - Episode 28 - Episode 29 - Episode 30 - Episode 31 - Episode 32 - Episode 33 - Episode 34 - Episode 35 - Episode 36 - Episode 37 - Episode 38 - Episode 39 - Episode 40 - Episode 41 - Episode 42 - Episode 43 - Episode 44 - Episode 45 - Episode 46 - Episode 47 -  Episode 48 - Episode 49 - Episode 50 - Episode 51 - Episode 52 - Episode 53 - Episode 54 - Episode 55 - Episode 56 - Episode 57 -  Episode 58 - Episode 59 - Episode 60 - Episode 61 - Episode 62 - Episode 64Cast List - 'Did you see the wrist watch in Ben Hur' ?- The Colly Continuity Page.

Comments to drove@ely.org.uk

Hugh, exiled fenman from King's Lynn says "Hev you ever thought about running a bus trip to see where "collie" is made like they do for Last Of the Summer Wine, Emmerdale, Corrie and the like. Could be a laugh!!!!!"

Who Dunnit? Your suggestions Please.

Mike Northfield says "Oi reckons that there was one of those there freaky weather thingies that frew that there pitch fork 'ard enough t' stab 'im and cause serious illness such as death thats wot i fink......." - So Mike reckons the freak fen blow caused poor Reg's death.

DG says "I did you this time!!!!!!! Shame I hadn't pushed you harder in 1966!!!!!! Shame Nursy Broadhead saved you?????????????????" - after he sent this message they locked him up again!

MG says "I reckon it were suicide. You see, Reg was quite obviously a bit iron hoof or POOF as we call 'em, and in them there days, well it wer'nt propper wus it?

James Brown says "I suspect a fallen pitchfork from one of the overhead helicopters ferrying a local farmer to the office of KLFM for one of their match reports on a Lynn home game."

World Leader reckons "I think that Monica woman did it. Damn girl never could keep her mouth shut. And she was always letting things drop". Yours World Leader