I tune out for a while, as Mimi gets on with outlining her fantasy riding plans for the children, and starts working on Ruth, clearly with a view to dumping her children on Ruth for long periods of time during the holidays. Still, Ruth seems inexplicably quite keen on the idea, and is responding to the heavy hints by describing the ‘daily drill’ at Sweetoaks Farm, Ruth Wingfield’s place on the Larcombe Ducis road, with enthusiasm.

‘You can drop them off at 8 a.m., wet or dry, I’m up with the lark, just make sure they have wellies and sou’westers, and do remember vests. I’ll keep them busy!’ Ruth says. ‘Take them straight out to the stables… grooming… I can soon tell who’s made for it, who are the joiner-inners, and who won’t want to do it again, I can tell you… I get them to clean tack and polish the bits, then I give them some lemon squash and a nice Club biscuit, for elevenses…

I nudge Mimi to make her shut up. The Chairman of the Vale of Larcombe Staghounds, Harvey Jones, MSH, who also happens to be Chairman of Honeyborne Parish Council, is at last calling the meeting to order.

Harvey Jones. I have a soft spot for him, and I think he knows it.

He’s a tall, imposing man in his late fifties, a circuit judge, with dark, General Sir Mike Jackson-type eyes, and brilliantined, Max Hastings military-type dark hair combed over to one side.

He begins to explain things in his unashamedly plummy voice. ‘Gled to see you all have the briefin’ notes,’ he says, glancing at the sheets we are all holding on our laps concerning the planning application and a summary of the wind turbine proposals that we picked up from a pile on the table on the way in. ‘But orn the arrests first,’ he says. ‘The Master and Martin Thomas have been released on bail, as we can all see from their presence here this morning. But the case is now, I remind you all, and all members of the press, sub judice.’

He uses the stern phrase as if he could have addressed the meeting entirely in Latin, if he so chose, and gives a stern look to the reporter from the West Dorset Free Press.

‘Anyway, I don’t want to chunter on for longer than is necessary,’ Harvey continues, as I gaze at him, thinking, ‘He’s a real man,’ and mentally comparing him to Pierre, which I know is unfair, ‘because we all have jorbs to get orf to, animals to get back to, and there’s another important item to consider, and Ned Bryanston and Ian Smith from South-West Wind, the energy consultants, are both giving up time to be here to explain it all to us, which makes this – I presume I am right in saying – an open plenning meeting.’