Thermal the merrier

“He will need thermals for that” said That Nice Lady Decorator innocently as we walked around the grounds of Arundel Castle in a late “dog emptying” exercise. She was referring to the para glider who was braving the cold late afternoon air, high above the Norfolk Estate. I agreed that he was probably jolly cold all that way up, and I think it was the cheeky smirk I was exhibiting as she realised there was another meaning, that I had deliberately misinterpreted, that irked her. He must indeed have experienced some thermals to remain aloft that long. Without them he would sort of, well, plummet.

And plummeting from the dietary moral high ground is high on my list of intentions today. Having now lost half a stone in the last three week period since returning to drudgery in England, I am so malnourished I feel I need to do something about it, after I have completed my work in respect of Currencies Direct. That goes without saying, although I am saying it.

That something is the meeting of the Arundel Luncheon Club, this time at Butlers in Tarrant Street in Arundel this lunchtime. I have been but once before and formed a decent impression, but have since received mixed reports, so what better way to ascertain if it should be on my recommended list of eateries in and around the town, than to go and sample their wares? Of course, some pre-lunch lubrication will be necessary, a small ticture of some kind, and as a stalwart founder member of the said club is a pub landlord, Charlie “Pistorius” Malcomson, the landlord of the Kings Arms which is located precariously nearby, I suspect and hope that a couple of pints of London Pride may be mine before the scrutiny of Butlers commences in earnest.

Pistorius gets the once over from That Nice Lady Prosthetic Inspector

He is known, at least to me, as Pistorius due to the mechanical leg he has had ever since a motor cycle accident in his teens. Rather than cover it up, his habit is to wear 3/4 length trousers on every occasion he can, showing the mechanics of his movement to all and sundry. He does, however, have a problem at the moment though, a problem identified by That Nice Lady Prosthetic Inspector. He has developed a squeak. As he walks there is a discernible noise which was brought to his attention in a recent Decorating inspection, when we were at the pub for that game of Scrabble on Tuesday evening. I was trying to head her off at the pass, as is my want when she is looking like she might say something out of turn, and I could see a metaphorical thought bubble emanating from her mouth before the words were out. A clear case of bubble and squeak one might say, if one were not an accomplished and not sought after writer such as myself. Unable to intercept her imparting the squeaky news, I left her to it.

Pistorius is a strong-minded chap and is obviously not easily offended, as his response, that his MOT was coming up and anyway, he had some WD 40 in the shed that should sort it out, was delivered without hesitation. He will be accompanied at lunch by his lovely wife, the PR for Amanda Holden, Russ Abbott and more, the gorgeous Alison. Any attempts at humour by those omnipotent limericists, having so much fun in the comments section of this column at the moment, at making any suggestion that he may want to get legless will be dealt with harshly.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News