Appleby Plays Chicken (2012)
“And once more Timothy Dumble was studying the map. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘here it is. Farthing Bishop. About eight miles. It seems a tiny place.’ ‘It must have a post office, anyway.’ From the back of the car, Ian Dancer spoke in the carefully controlled voice of somebody in pain.
‘So it must – if your whole story’s not crackers.’ Timothy paused. ‘You just had to get off?’ he asked cautiously.
‘No help for it. I was rocking about on the back of the bike, and wrecking the whole show. The beast...ly doctors were right. I thought they were talking rot.’ ‘It was madness, Ian.’ Pettifor, also at the back, steadied the injured youth as the car swung round a corner.
‘I thought I’d be all right, just hanging on behind. But the bloody thing made me howl whenever we bumped. David had to stop. And then we decided he must go on to this Farthing Bishop place by himself. I sat by the roadside for a bit, and managed to get a cigarette going.MoreLess
‘So it must – if your whole story’s not crackers.’ Timothy paused. ‘You just had to get off?’ he asked cautiously.
‘No help for it. I was rocking about on the back of the bike, and wrecking the whole show. The beast...ly doctors were right. I thought they were talking rot.’ ‘It was madness, Ian.’ Pettifor, also at the back, steadied the injured youth as the car swung round a corner.
‘I thought I’d be all right, just hanging on behind. But the bloody thing made me howl whenever we bumped. David had to stop. And then we decided he must go on to this Farthing Bishop place by himself. I sat by the roadside for a bit, and managed to get a cigarette going.MoreLess
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