I found Brutus where we had left him beside the stables and tentatively climbed in. Even more hesitantly I put the key into the ignition, and, with my foot on the clutch, turned it. The motor sprang to life with a roar like an impatient tiger. I slid the gear into first (which it did with no grating and grinding at all) and gradually let the clutch out. The motorcar sprang forward eagerly and we headed down the drive. I had driven cars before, including Sir Hubert’s Daimler, which was now mine to use, but never anything with such raw power as Brutus. I could feel him straining like a powerful horse, willing me to give him his head and let him gallop. I kept us in a sedate second gear as we negotiated the turns of the driveway and then turned into the road. Here I moved to a daring third gear, but the nature of Cornish lanes is such that one can never drive fast. Once I dropped from the headland, the lane ran between high banks, with tree branches reaching out from them, so winding that I could never see around the next corner. I slowed to a crawl, holding my breath as I came around each bend. Then I noticed a motorcar had come up behind me. Very close behind me. In the rearview mirror I saw a big black shape. I tried to go a little faster. I was sweating. Then I told myself, “He’ll just have to wait.”

I came to a place of the first houses, where the lane opened up a bit. Suddenly the other car swept past me. I noticed the Rolls-Royce emblem on the front. “Show-off! Road hog!” I shouted after it. I knew he couldn’t hear me but it made me feel better.

I continued on into the village of Rock and pulled up outside the little post office where I had spotted a telephone box. And there was the Rolls-Royce, parked next to me. I wondered whether I dared to give the driver a piece of my mind when he came out of the post office, holding a bundle of mail. It was none other than Jago. He recognized me and gave me a friendly nod.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said, reformulating what I was about to say. “Nice motorcar.”

He gave a cheeky grin. “Not mine. My boss’s.” Before I could say anything more he said, “Sorry if I gave you a scare back there, but my boss has just arrived with a big party and they want lobsters tonight. So I’d been out to my pots, but no luck again, I’m afraid.”

“There aren’t any lobsters around at the moment?”