Tony wrapped the rope around his waist and kicked his heel hard into the earth. It was a practised motion, completed hundreds of times. He looked at the back of Leah’s head, his eyes following the gentle swing as she loosened taut neck muscles. All down the line, individual motions rippled, like a Chinese dragon limbering to attack.

Across the red marker, an equal count of men and women mirrored the movements of Tony’s team. These were the Toads, named after the crawling technique of their pull. Tony’s hips moved unconsciously, conditioned by hours practising that same crawl. A smile flickered across his face as his father’s voice echoed in his mind. Both smile and voice fell away together.

Winning the annual tug of war meant everything in Polbury. Always had. To the victors went the spoils. The admiration of the villagers. The respect of the vanquished. 20% discount on cod and chips at The Good Plaice. And most importantly, full control of the jukebox at The Lily Pond. In short, there was a lot riding on what was about to happen.

Tony bent his knees, easing muscles and joints into the hopping motion he’d lead when the pull began. This would be his tenth year as a Frog. He’d helped them win nine in a row since switching to his mother’s maiden team after his father’s death, as custom decreed. Nine equalled the record first claimed by the Toads, achieved under the anchorship of his old man. The atmosphere in the village was tense.

‘Pick up the rope!’

Two anchors signalled their teams to lift the line. The crowd inhaled. Temperatures rose, skins flushed, and clothes were adjusted for comfort as the spectacle of pregnant athleticism quickened pulses. Harriet the Vicar whispered something which made Audrey the Postie blush. Colin the Butcher made a bet which he knew might be the last straw for his marriage. Behind a tractor, Alex and Ash snogged. Humphrey the Groundkeeper saw, lamenting the new generation’s contempt for tradition.

‘Take the strain!’

32 hands gripped harder. 16 bodies edged back until resistance was met. A sheep baaed ominously. A cloud drew across the sun. Terrence the Actor fainted. Tony breathed deeply.

‘Ready!’

One more victory and Tony would be a legend. Immortality beckoned. He’d never buy a drink again. Michelle would let him hold her hand, and not just when nobody could see. He didn’t know for sure, but it had been hinted that, should he lead the Frogs to their tenth, Computer Shop Elsa would free Tony’s laptop from malware without trying to upsell him a lifetime plan.

Tony put his right hand in his pocket, clasping fingers around the ice within.

‘Pull!’

In a heartbeat, Tony held the ice against the rope, shielding himself from a burn as he released the grip of his trailing hand. The Frogs hopped but, no longer tethered, crashed down as the Toads drew them quickly across the line.

Tony thought about his dad once more. But this time, the smile remained.