Panic Over

In case anyone was concerned, the folk’s barbecue for the Bowls & Croquet Club went off without a hitch. The rain stopped mid-afternoon and the sun came out enough to dry the grass before everyone arrived.

48 people turned up, which was more than expected so a few went without steaks and had to make do with sausages and salads. The pheasant stayed in the bushes on the fringes of the garden, watching everyone with interest. The seagulls behaved until they were given the leftovers to pick over.

The Old Dear just called to relay the news. At 10:28. Don’t these people have an evening call cut-off? The phone rings at that time of the night, I snatch up the receiver expecting to hear bad news. It may be conservative of me, but 9:30 will be the latest I’ll call someone unless it’s really important.

Still, she had an excuse. The Old Man had been on the computer up until then. Tying up the phone line meant that he had been on the internet – they don’t use it enough to bother with broadband. Which meant that he was fed up of the rain and looking to book another holiday. Some people...