I knew I should have listened to my intuition. However, I didn't and stood Fellows down from the chauffeur duties to drive myself back up to the shires. The journey up was uneventful, but the wireless was most distasteful. I could only get reception on a show fronted by someone called Moyles. Very unsavoury chap. Nothing like Johnners used to be.

Anyway, the jalopy was handling quite badly by the time I reached the offices in Worcester, and upon extricating myself from behind the wheel it was obvious that I had a flat. Only at the bottom, but it was definitely flat. What annoyed me was that the car is only a couple of weeks old.  Anyway. I rang Fellows to come up, swap the wheel and effect a repair to the damaged tyre, but the Memsahib had apparantly taken him shopping. Poor Fellows. Yomping up and down Carnaby Street, at his age!

As Fellows was unavailable I rang the dealer from whence I bought the car to arrange someone to fix the faulty tyre. After a battle they agreed to send a young man who duly arrived later that day. They seemed to baulk at the fact that the fault was theirs? The grubby overalled technician set about repairing the offending tyre, but could only effect a temporary repair as apparently they don't carry the tyre required. It's one of the problems with such an exclusive car. The tyre will be in tomorrow, when hopefully they will send a smarter, better dressed technician to actually fix things properly.

The service is never as bad at Fortnums. Perhaps they should take some lessons!