I’m paranoid about the boys-in-blue discovering who I really am and inadvertently leading you to Mum and Dad’s hiding place in Spain—blast!—didn’t mean to say that. See what I mean? I just never know when the wrong information might just slip out.
That’s why living in the wilds of Devon in southwest England is the best place for me and honestly—even though there’s not been a murder for a few weeks—it’s not that boring. There’s plenty of drama going on. Take my strange friend Topaz Potter aka Lady Ethel Turberville-Spat. True, she inherited The Grange, a dilapidated stately home, but to me she’ll always be Topaz, waitress at the Copper Kettle café and, last week, someone who nearly put snails on the menu. In case you didn’t already know, it’s snail-racing season in Gipping-on-Plym so suggesting eager fans might be partial to escargots bourguignon would have been disastrous.
Snail racing has been gaining in popularity—almost as much as hedge jumping. Check out www.snailracing.net. The former even appeared on the TV show, “Britain’s Got Talent”—although I believe Simon Cowell was more than a little bored. With Archie still holding the title as the fastest snail ever, covering a 13-inch course in 2 minutes, it takes a certain type of spectator to really stick with the sport.
Blast! I’ve just got a phone call saying a rather large cat-like creature rumored to be the Beast of Bodmin has been wreaking havoc in Honeysuckle Lane. So much for my evening plans drinking Scrumpy at The Three Tuns with Olympic hedge-jumping hopeful, Dave Randall.