The tranquility of a French Sunday morning interrupted by the thrumming of a two cylinder engine and the crashing of gears. Madame Bay and her gold metallic 'Wild Child' voiturette have arrived at the front gate. Unexpectedly. Her chance to reclaim possession of the house while the various dust producing workmen are enjoying their weekend.
By the time the first cup of coffee has been poured Madame Bay is in full flow. " Had we heard the news ? " The local radio had reported that a farmer in St. Antonin has seen strange lights in the sky for the second night running . The lead story on a station that exists on reporting the results of the regional crocheting competition or the price of milk at the wholesalers. For Madame Bay proof positive that her garden is a homing beacon for aliens. For the more cynical amongst us puzzlement as to why you would travel 35 trillion light years and end up here. Paris, yes. Biarritz, maybe. But deepest France Profonde ? Wilf sensibly settles down for some serious alien banishing sleep.