"Flashed as in flashed," I said. "The classic version. Dirty old man in a raincoat and, well, he opens the raincoat and renders his private parts public. Not that he has to be old. Any age counts. So, I repeat, have you ever been flashed?"
She was about 70. We were driving north together to an event in which we were both taking part. And within a minute of meeting her, no, within seconds of meeting her, I knew that I liked her and that she would be forthright and honest and light of heart and in all probability funny.
A motorbike came up behind the car, followed by another and another and another. I could feel them as much as hear them, their engines not so much revving as detonating, no doubt with something done to them to enhance the noise they made, the