just walking around

Quite why there should be a container painted with Argos livery at the rear of the Kinema is unknown. Every now and then when I was small we'd have a wander through the various bit of wood which the various things which claimed to own them had marked off with fences, particularly the bits at the back of the Petwood hotel where posh-looking old-looking people would occasionally glare at us on the paths behind the wall behind the manicured gardens. Once we managed to emerge at the rear of the Kinema and were attempting to walk round to the front of it when we were confronted by the smaller of the two women who grudgingly sold people tickets and Minstrels in the foyer. Upon being asked "What are you lot doing round the back here?" as quick as a flash my elder-neighbour stated confidently but vaguely "We were just walking... around..." with an appropriately all-encompassing arm-motion. As we were making our way away from the area which might have been considered private and walking to the public road there was little she could do, though she probably mentioned it to my mum, whom she knew from when she worked there. The legitimate path leading round the back of the Tea House used to lead to what were known as The Bales, where there were usually at least twenty round bales in a nice long line, ideal for clambering about on with little regard for the possiblity of risks arising from the presence of the rats we later suspected had probably been nesting within them. The Bales are since gone, disappeared when the fields bordering the path were converted from tree-dotted grassland (which we never really sneaked into on in fear of being shot at by posh farming people) into a second golf course when the village golf club decided to expand and rename itself the national golf centre, shaming the village and forever tarnishing its name.