“HAPPILY PUTTING UP WITH A PILLION SEAT THAT WASN’T MUCH MORE THAN A HANKY ON THE MUDGUARD”
MICK’S CALL CAME late in the day. When we worked together on bike magazines back in the 1980s I’d hear from him daily. These days it’s rare enough to be a worry. Who’s it going to be?
“What’s your postal address for the invite?”
“What bloody invite?”
“Alison and I are getting married in July.” Phew,
