House Of Spoons

Trumpington is a village set in the heart of rural England. Once the main town in the county of Trumpingtonshire, it is now effectively a suburb, within the boundaries, and only a short bus-ride away from, Cambridgewick Green. It's located on the south-west side of the city and borders Chigley Hinton to the east and Grantchester to the west.

The Trumpington Market Square is like many other market squares, with numerous shops, a handsome Gothic Town Hall and an assorted collection of shops and houses; but one feature is unique - the town hall has a clock tower, telling the time, steadily, sensibly; never too quickly, never too slowly; telling the time for Trumpington.

Every morning, the people of Trumpington take in their milk, open their shops and set out their wares. They do this with one eye on the town hall clock, and one ear too, for they know that dead on the hour a slight rumble from the recesses of the tower will announce that free entertainment is about to begin. With a loud clonk the two doors on either side of the clock face slide open. To the regular rhythm of a gay mechanical tune, the gilt figures of Sir Roger de Trumpington, and Lady der Trump emerge and solemnly strike the hour on a bell. Not until the automatons have returned to the tower and the doors have shut do the trumpspeople resume their activities.

In the rather nice park is a bandstand, and it is at this bandstand that the Trumpington fire brigade band play, while the people from Trumpington and nearby areas listen and watch, though this does sometimes clash with the six o'clock dance at Chigley Hinton.

The Fire Brigade are perhaps Trumpington's most-recognised feature, their Fire Engine is the most modern, sleekly-lined, gadget-filled vehicle it is possible to buy. It is Trumpington's pride and joy. The fire-bell regularly shatters the peace of the countryside. The great doors swing open and the six stalwart firemen slide down the pole.

The obsessive compulsive Trumpington Fire Brigade roll-call has become famous locally: "Pugh! Pugh! Barney McGrew! Cuthbert! Dibble! Grubb!" They are continually being called out to attend some emergency or other (in many cases to resolve fairly trivial matters); but to their annoyance, rarely an actual fire. (One reason for this may be that both fire and water would be difficult to animate.) However, this doesn't stop the Fire Brigade absent-mindedly getting out their fire hose and receiving a rebuke ("No no! Not the hose! Remember what the judge warned you about!").

The fact that there hasn't been a fire for 30 years is, of course, rather a pity, but there are many things one can do with a modern, sleekly-lined, gadget-filled fire engine, and since the fire brigade also have to work second jobs as the Town Band to make ends meet, time never drags in Trumpington.