MRS RUSTBRIDGER AND THE CHAUFFEUR

This morning, Ming was taken away in a double-decker prison van.

While the M.O.D. police 'helped' him on board a policewoman from our local station was assigned to me.

"Double-Decker Prison Vans are a new idea," she explained enthusiastically. "They're cheaper to run than ordinary prisons - no local authority rates - and they're versatile - they can be used as tour buses if there's a dip in demand for custodial sentences."

Apparently, it's a pilot scheme for 'not-violent' but 'highly sensitive' criminals.

I said "Ming isn't a criminal. Nor has he ever struck me as highly sensitive."

He appeared at a window on the top deck, sat down - and waved.

"Hey!" I said to the policewoman. "Is there any chance you could ask him, before he goes, where he put the new packet of beetroot seeds?"

She radioed a message through.

We could see a guard walk along the deck and exchange a few sentences with Ming.

The policewoman listened into her walky-talky.

"He says he can't remember where he put the beetroot seeds," she said. "But he wants to tell you that both your children are boys - and are called Didcott and Worthing."

"They're jolly well not!" I said.

As the bus moved away, Miss Martin's chauffeur emerged from Mrs Rustbridger's porch.

"I've asked your neighbour to make you a cup of tea," he said.

Then he walked off down the road.

I went into our house, slammed the door and went straight to the airing cupboard.

I've tipped all the pots of un-germinated seeds into the rubbish bin and have replaced them with tomatoes.

This afternoon - I'm going out.

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For Tomorrow