Road hog turned out to be a big pig
THERE was nothing I enjoyed more in the late Forties than going for a spin in the countryside with my parents and my younger brother in our open-top tourer. One lovely summer afternoon my father was driving us at his usual reckless pace through the narrow, hedge-lined, winding lanes that criss-cross the romney Marshes. approaching a blind bend, dad had to slam on the brakes as another open-top car, being driven at high speed by a stout, elderly lady in tweeds, came flying towards us on the wrong side of the road. swerving violently — narrowly missing us — she looked at dad and bellowed: ‘pig!’ as she disappeared into the distance. as we started moving again, my mother, visibly shaken, observed: ‘Bloody cheek. It was her fault, she was on the wrong side of the road and going much too fast.’ Moments later, we rounded the bend . . . only to be confronted by a huge pig lying contentedly in the middle of the road!
Bob Readman, Bournemouth, dorset.