Required by the day job to be in St Andrews on Friday night, reporting the latest example of governmental hope over experience in the Northern Ireland power-sharing talks, I was determined still to make it to Champions’ Day at Newmarket. Sir Percy’s first appearance since the Derby, a cracking contest for the Cesarewitch and the prospect of a renewed duel between two outstanding two-year-olds in the shape of Teofilo and Holy Roman Emperor for the Darley Dewhurst Stakes looked like providing the perfect Flat finale before most of us turn our attention to the jumping game.
Hence a 2.45 a.m. reveille to drive to Edinburgh and check in 11 boxes of TV equipment at 4.15 for a 6.15 flight. Hope began to wane after BMI kept us one hour 50 minutes in the check-in queue (no, nothing to do with security, just incompetent processing) and although we still just made the delayed flight there was worse to come on arrival back in London before the final leg.
Mrs Oakley, herself just back from a trip to Turin, was not only in need of the car but also had a duty or two in mind.
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