Fantastic Mr. Pheasant

The joy of mobile communication. I’m at the edge of a field in Oxfordshire. It’s pitch black. And I’m observing a red light. Shimmering in the distance astride what looks like a quad bike.

It’s the gamekeeper. Or at least I assume it is. Out on his rounds, looking for a fox fight. Lucky old pheasants, they’ve got their own personal bodyguards. The squires of poultry!

I’m wondering what’s going to happen next. But I’ll never know. It’s too cold out here! I’m off in.


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