‘I don’t think I’ll be going again. I love the sun and the sea, but I could do without the hassle of the airport and the flight. All that queueing up. And then we were delayed by four hours coming back’.

The taxi driver nodded. Harry Metcalfe was not sure if he had heard or understood; or perhaps he just didn’t care to listen to his fare’s moaning about the trip.

‘Anyway, how much is that?’

‘Forty pounds’.

Metcalfe shrugged. Not bad, to say they had to come all the way to Leeds/Bradford Airport to pick me up.

‘Here’s fifty. Keep the change’. I can afford it. I bet he won’t ever get a pension anything like the one I’ve had for the last thirty-odd years.

The d...

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