Cars are fast

Dot writes: Hugh was very cross with me this evening. You see, I’d gone shopping and had too much to carry to fit in the basket of my bike; so I came all the way home on the train, dropped off my bags, and then got Ken (obliging Ken) to drive me back to Dun Laoghaire to rescue the Duchess. The part that annoyed Hugh was that I arrived back home on my bike very slightly before Ken and the boys pulled up in the car.

“You’re very cheeky,” said Hugh. “You were racing us. You’re not allowed to do that. Bikes are slow. Cars are fast.” He was so offended by this disruption to the natural order that he told me off all over again at bedtime.


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