Country Diary

breathless hush fell. My fellow delegates turned as one as the chairman began to speak from the raised dais before us. These upturned faces were not indoor faces — they were burned and ruddy, rouged by the easterly winds and sun of Suffolk’s arable lands. Buttocks shifted uncomfortably on pews, these ranks of tweed-clad backsides more used to air-sprung tractor seats. The long-awaited Suffolk Farming Conference had