William Spigot was found dead in his barn with his diary beside him. Local residents, being incredibly nosy, read it. Here is a snapshot of some more recent entries.
Sunday 1st March 1903.
There are a lot more people in this village than there used to be. There's well over 100! I can hardly remember everyone's name. Only this morning I was in Rob Bryden's shop exchanging some discs for bread, when a young lady walked in. I hadn't a clue who she was. It turned out it was Brigitta's cousin and she'd just come from overseas. Of course, I didn't bother to find out what she was called.
Monday 2nd March 1903.
Worked all day in the fields. Nothing much happened until Jonas Jonasson from the mechanics passed out in a ditch on the way to the crossroads. He had been drinking some of Norbert Smith's homemade liquor. That stuff is great if you want to unblock a pipe. Not that we have many pipes mind.
Tuesday 3rd March 1903.
I came across the sea for some piece and quiet, but the village has grown so much I can hardly hear myself think. I was trying to decide on swede or turnip for dinner but I couldn't think straight because two people were having a conversation in the street by my house. I opened my upstairs window and poured water on them.
Wednesday 4th March 1903.
I was attacked by a scarecrow in the field.
Thursday 5th March 1903.
Gah! I've had enough of this. I was walking for a stroll by the river when Scratch came and bit my left leg. I complained to Mr. Harris who just laughed and said I was a grumpy old catfish. I suppose he thinks he can get away with having vicious dogs just because he's Alderman.
Friday 6th March 1903.
I've decided to move away. I'm packing up a few belongings and I'm moving out west to the deep forest and to start a farm there and get some peace and quiet.
Thursday 12th March 1903.
I've set up a new farm. I've cleared the land, planted my crops and I've not put up any dirt tracks leading back to the village, so hopefully no-one will find me.
Wednesday 5th April 1903
Infuriating! Some blighter has cleared away some land nearby and has started a new farm. I tried to chase him away with a stick, but the limp in my left leg was causing me too much pain. He's even started to lay some dirt tracks.
Saturday 16th May 1903.
Where are they all coming from? It's as if they've sprung up from nowhere. All around me the trees have been cleared and people are constructing farms everywhere.
Saturday 6th June 1903.
There is no escape. I shouted at my neighbour, for, well, existing. He told me I could just pack up my bags and leave `Westfield' (hah – we're an official village now) and go to `Sudbury' If I so wished. I'm locking myself in my barn to get away from the din.