Description

Albert Winstanley paused on the narrow lane to Thorpe-in-the-Hollow. It was hot work, riding in this unaccustomed heat wave, and he settled back on a grassy bank to have a snack. The cream cakes he’d bought in Skipton had melted in the heat and had to be eaten with a spoon. Now, with shirt, shoes and socks off, he settled back and dreamt of times past…