Difficult customers
It didn’t start well at Lingfield on Saturday. I discovered too late that on my walk across the field from the station I had been dribbling £1 coins, carefully saved for Mrs Oakley’s car-parking fund, through a hole in my pocket. And if the nice Chinese lady who mends my pockets smiles sweetly and says ‘too much money’ the next time I take one in for attention, I swear I’ll wring her neck. She clearly hasn’t got a pension fund with Standard Life. Fortunately, this early in the real jumping season I chose to keep most of my money in my wallet for the rest of the afternoon. And when