I went out to my car just after lunch with the intention of going and fetching Amazing Grace, our cleaner. I turned the key in the ignition and …… nothing. Not a murmur, not a groan, not so much as a valiant heave.

Left my lights on, hadn’t I?

So … I fetched Grace in the Centre car, then called the breakdown service. Within moments, a local(ish) garage was on the ‘phone taking the details and saying that my Knight on a White Charger was on his way. He’d be with me in about 30 monutes.

An hour later … no sign of him.

The telephone rings. It’s the garage.

“Where exactly ARE you again?”

“Muncaster Chase, across from the Castle …”

“And the car’s in the back car park?”

“Correct”.

“Well, I think our man’s in the front car park, but he can’t see a gold coloured car.”

“He isn’t in the front car park.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m standing looking out of the window at the front car park and there’s nothing there apart from a couple of jackdaws, a grey squirrel and a lot of grass. He’s almost certainly in the main car park at the Castle. Tell him to leave the car park, turn left and then, when he gets to the bad right hand corner up the hill, he’ll find us on the left in the trees … The name sign is outside on the wall.”

Ten minutes later. Still nothing.

I don my jacket and wander down to the road … arriving just as the rescue lorry hurtles past.

I wait in the rain, knowing he has to turn around and come back. Five minutes later, he does and I virtually throw myself into his path.  It’s a bit like landing a whale with a bit of string on a bamboo cane …

“Good job you did that,” he announces cheerfully, swinging into the driveway, “I’d have missed you again for sure … the sat nav kept taking me back to the castle car park.”

“Didn’t you get the instructions about the bad corner?” I ask, through gritted teeth.

“Oh aye,” he replies, attaching the crocodile clips to the battery, “…but they’re all bad corners …”.