Lucinda Sutcliffe
HE shooting rights at Boughton Estate were under the helm of my maternal grandfather when, aged six, I joined the beating line made up of jovial steelworkers from nearby Corby. Fed up with frozen feet on stop for half a crown, I commandeered our labrador and turned him into a half-decent retriever so I could stay warm. My father, who would buzz off shooting in his helicopter with my mother and dog, first picked up a gun with his father post–World
