#140593 - Helena, gasping for air, fell forward onto all fours, her hands now also in the mud. He had left it behind for her personal protection whilst he was away - their remote smallholding, nestling at the foot of Buckinghamshire's Chiltern Hills was picturesque but isolated, and within a day's ride of London, with the newer, faster steam-trains such as The Flying Scotsman also bringing the occasional footpad, robber or ne'er-do-well into the normally quiet county. Before they knew it, the two had drunk a whole bottle of the red and opened a second, causing Anne to remark that With drinking all this African stuff we should be watching that old film, Zulu! she laughed Rear rank, fire! Advance! Reload! she'd bellowed.
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