Pensioners Attempt to Make Contact with TP Fuller Over the Tragic Death of Freddy.

Broadsheet Journalist: She might be a 76 year old, great, great grand mother, with two prosthetic legs and a pair of badly fitting dentures, but Betsy Hinderson, of 26 Turnpike Lane, North London is a determined woman.

"She’s a force to be reckoned with", said Harry a passer by.

Broadsheet Journalist: According to one neighbour, when Betsy discovered the disturbing news; that Freddy the famous Finsbury Park squirrel had been squashed to death, under the wheels of a TP Fuller van, she took immediate action. She picked up the phone and called Western Coaches of Wood Green.
Mike Barker, a friend and confidante to Betsy Hinderson, and MD of Western Coaches tells us what happened next …

Mike: When Betsy called me I could tell she wasn’t happy. She hadn’t even put her teeth in properly – which is out of character for her – she’s a perfectionist is our Betsy – ask anyone who knows her. They’ll tell you the same as me; that Betsy always puts her teeth in properly. She kept stopping and saying

Betsy: Sorry Mike I am so angry about this, I’ve not put my teeth in properly, they’re upside down pet.

Mike: She was adamant though ….

Betsy: We’ve gotta do something about this Mike. We can’t let a hit and run driver get away with this. We must confront him – justice needs to be done.

Mike: She arranged everything, found out the address of the depot, everything. She was even on the blower to the best Taxidermist there is. And, she's very kindly had Freddy returned back to his former self, well sort of. He’s lost his pulse and he sort of just stares all the time.

Broadsheet journalist: How did she afford to do this?

Mike: Well her and her two neighbours clubbed together. They’re eldery ladies as well, but they all had one thing in common, a love for the little guy. Apparently, he used to cross the road and visit them on a Friday morning, when they were having coffee and biscuits together. You know what I mean – a coffee morning for ladies. He loved a soggy digestive did the little lad. One of them, Jacky I think it was, said that it was almost as though he was a human being, one trapped inside a small squirrel suit. That’s why people loved him so much, they felt they could relate to him.

Broadsheet Journalist: Did they raid their savings?

Mike: Er … yes, I believe they did. God You’re making me feel guilty now.
Anyhow, rumours spread like wild fire on Green Lanes and soon the entire over 70’s Luncheon Club had heard about the coaches.

Broadsheet Journalist: The coaches?

Mike: Yes, that’s right lass - the coaches. In the end we had three coaches packed full of eager pensioners. They all worked hard to create banners. All hand painted saying ‘Justice for Freddy!’ And ‘A life for a Life’. And, ‘Fuller, You’re Next!’

Broadsheet Journalist: Where were they going?

Mike: By heck lass, you’re not too bright. Down to Scotney … you know the place where TP Fuller lives. We made a night of it. We had flasks of tea, cheese and pickle sandwiches, pork scratchings for the more carnivorous members.
The local vicar’s wife Jean had even packed candles so we could have a candle lit vigil at midnight.

Broadsheet Journalist: And, what was the outcome?

Mike: Er…. Well the depot was closed it said TP Fuller has vacated. Gone to Morocco. His wife was lovely though brought us out mugs of hot chocolate. It was just nice really, you know. A night out for all the old dears. Of course Betsy wasn’t best pleased.I just said to her - put your teeth in love your dribbling!