NOT long after partaking of my Lunn bun, I witnessed a rather unpleasant accident involving a cyclist.

The rider seemed to have taken evasive action after a car edged out of a side road. His front wheel hit the kerb and he came an awful cropper, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. The car drove off.

A couple of people stood and stared so I ran across the road and tried to comfort the man who had quite obviously suffered a very badly broken leg. He was in great pain and I tried to distract him as best I could.

A few moments later, a community support office arrived on the scene and summoned an ambulance which arrived within a few minutes.

Now, I don’t want medals but I would like to know why the CSO didn’t ask me any questions… did I see the accident, my contact details and so on. Heaven knows what the West Country’s famous Inspector Wexford would have said.

*WE all recognise them… those individuals who arrive at a party or dinner engagement emptyhanded.

You’ve got the nibbles on the coffee table, the starters in line astern like a battle fleet… and it would now be rather nice to pour that first glass of the evening’s libations.

“Oh dear, Oscar – we seem to have forgotten to bring any wine.

How silly of us. Do you think we should pop out and find an offlicence?”

I stare hard at them. Wendy obviously doesn’t mean that, but I decide to call their bluff and say: “What a good idea. It’s straight to the end of the road, turn first left…”

Sometimes you’ve got to be cruel to be kind.