‘No, my lady,’ I said. ‘To be honest, I rather thought you’d gone cold on the idea.’
‘No, pet,’ she said, ‘I really do think we ought to pack our bags and head off to the seaside now that you’ve got rid of that nasty old plaster cast.’
‘You’ll get no argument from me,’ I said. ‘As long as I can have those winkles you promised, and perhaps some ice cream, I shall be in heaven.’
There was a ring at the doorbell and I answered it to find the postman standing there holding a large parcel.
‘Oh, I say, thank you,’ I said, taking the package.
‘Pleasure miss,’ he said. ‘Good day to you.’
‘Good day,’ I said, and took the parcel through to the kitchen.
‘Gracious,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Whatever can this be?’
‘I can think of one surefire way to find out,’ I said, offering her a kitchen knife to cut the string.
She eagerly removed the string and brown paper to reveal a sturdy cardboard box. She lifted the lid and there, wrapped in tissue paper, was a leather driving helmet and a pair of expensive-looking goggles. She took out the note which had been lying on top of the strange gift.
‘Dear Sis,’ she read aloud. ‘How the devil are you, old girl? Sorry I’ve not been down to see you, but how about we put that right? I hear by the clothes-line telegraph that you’ve recently taken up driving and it just so happens that my old chum Fishy Codrington is a bit of a devotee of the automotive arts himself and, guess what, he’s built himself a racing circuit. You’ve heard of Brooklands? Well, it’s nothing quite so grand as that, but it gave him the idea and he’s paved over half the family estate in Rutland to make a course for him and his chums. He’s invited me along for a few days and he said I could bring a guest. Do you fancy it? Obviously you can bring whatshername and we can all have a jolly time together. You might need the enclosed – I told Fishy you were both excellent drivers. Reply soonest. All my love, Harry.’
She held up the helmet and goggles.
‘Well,’ I said, trying not to sound too disappointed. ‘It’s not quite the seaside, but it does sound as though it might be fun.’
‘Just the sort of fun we need,’ she said, the glint of competition in her eye. ‘I’ll write back at once.’
The End