The Voice in your Community


Povey’s People

by Radio Stoke’s Owd Grandad Piggott


June 30th 2021, Issue 104

Previous articles by Owd Grandad Piggott can be found here

Levi Piggott

Levi Piggott was Owd Grandad Piggott’s brother. He was several years younger than Owd Grandad and the two hated each other to say the least. Levi had a criminal record as long as his arm for many offences involving robbery, drunkeness, violence, theft and was well known in Longton for all sorts of villainy. He was barred out of every pub in the area and vowed that if he died before his time, he would haunt his brother to the end of his days. Owd Grandad Piggott was a saint compared to Levi. Levi lived in a shed somewhere in Fenton and fortunately, the two rarely met up, but when they did, anything could happen. Levi went puddled in the end and died in a fit of violence in Cheddleton hospital, but Owd Grandad Piggott never forgot Levi’s last words to haunt him after he had gone.

Owd Grandad Piggott was never sure about the supernatural and for a few months after Levi’s demise, he was prone to jumping violently at the slightest thing. One night, some birds had built a nest in the chimney and one of the baby chicks had fallen out and was making a commotion behind the fireplace. Owd Grandad Piggott seized the poker and brandished it…

‘Come ite an’ fight then!’, he growled. The bird continued the commotion,

‘Come back to bed you stupid old idiot!’ shouted grandma Piggott, ‘There’s nobody there!’

‘You know what ay said’, persisted Owd Grandad Piggott,’If thees a road back - ay’ll find it’

It was a week later and I’d promised to take him fishing with me. I was going for an evening session to Sandon on the canal. I’d only get about two hours before it went dark. A couple of hours with him was enough! We fished until the light had faded to such an extent that we could hardly see our floats and as we packed up, the evening was silent save for a gentle breeze. I was looking forward to a couple of pints in the Dog and Doublet pub before he went home. Suddenly there was a heavy duty snort followed by a heavy tread. The sound came from behind the hedge. Owd Grandad Piggott nearly swallowed his teeth. Further sounds of movement confirmed that something - or someone was behind the hedge.

‘Ah can ‘ear summat piddlin’...’ said Owd Grandad Piggott. ‘Listen!’ Sure enough, there came the unmistakeable sound of something, or someone ‘piddlin’.

‘It’s ‘im!’ , he grated. ‘It’s bloody Levi!’, he grabbed a steel rod rest and stood ready.

‘Don’t be stupid!’ I snapped. ‘Levi’s dead and that’s all there is to it!’

‘Ar tell thee it’s ‘im!’ I went to where the sounds were coming from and looked through the hedge. Two black and white cows gazed curiously back at me.

In the Dog and Doublet it took three pints of bitter to calm him down, but on the way home, I could tell that he was plotting something. The next day, he went to Levi’s grave in St John’s churchyard armed with a wooden post and a lump hammer. He stoved the post into the ground at the head of the grave like somebody possessed.

‘Gerrite o’ that gunga din!’, he snarled. ‘Plenty o’ dogs goo past ‘ere’