The Summer of Sir Lancelot
“‘Every single ball of it! Square cuts, cover drives, late hooks, tickles round to leg... I saw the lot. It was an experience as unforgettable as one‘s first view of the Acropolis.‘He rustled The Times against the coffee pot. A headline on the sports page announced: ENGLAND SAVED STRONGI‘TH‘ARM AND WINTERBOTTOM PUT ON 225 ‘I‘m sure you want me to tell you all about it,‘ he offered handsomely.It was breakfast time the following Monday morning. Mr Nightrider was getting abreast of events from his ...wife‘s Daily Mirror, between glaring at The Times which Mrs Chuffey had loyally whisked straight to Sir Lancelot‘s bedroom. His wife was toying with a kipper, wondering if the remains of the coming luncheon party would stretch for supper. His twenty-one-year-old daughter Felicity w as thinking of a young man called Ron, with whom her parents were as yet unacquainted. His eighteen-year-old son Randolph had his mind fixed on Folkestone, a popular English seaside resort. His younger twins, Hilda and Herbert, released from their highly relieved institutions for half-term, were independently wondering how to attach a tin can, or preferably the cat‘s tail, to the rear bumper of Sir Lancelot‘s Rolls.MoreLess
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