The Summer of Sir Lancelot

George! I‘ll be glad to feel a rod in my hands again. Particularly as I heard from Brackett and Knockett that piece of river pollution, Chadwick, is still in London. And I won‘t be sorry leaving Geoff,‘ he added feelingly. ‘The feller has hardly gone out of his way to be hospitable to us.‘
    ‘Here comes Simon Sparrow,‘ Lady Spratt announced, glancing through the window. ‘I want you to promise you‘ll definitely do something for him.‘
    ‘Really, Maud,‘ returned Sir Lancelot impatiently. ‘It is all most unethical, and anyway nothing is quite so boring as hospital politics.‘
    ‘You know who‘ll get the job instead, of course? Paul Ivors-Smith.‘
    ‘Rubbish! Not that chinless belly-farrier,‘ Sir Lancelot dismissed him. ‘But he has Professor Hindehead behind him.‘
    Sir Lancelot grunted.
    ‘And you know perfectly well, Lancelot, that in hospital politics the Professor would make Machiavelli look like Eric or Little by Little.‘
    ‘But why on earth,‘ exploded Sir Lancelot, ‘should the Professor support that feeble — ‘
    ‘Really, Lancelot! Be your age. You know Paul‘s father‘s a wealthy stockbroker?‘
    ‘Yes. Pompous little twerp.‘
    ‘The Professor‘s after him for a packet to finance research on his Unit - it will help his long-range attack on the Honours List.‘
    ‘Tricky Dicky a knight?‘ His eyebrows shot up. ‘Where did you get all this from?‘ he added quickly.
    ‘It was all in the letter Nikki Sparrow sent me yesterday.‘
    ‘Nonsense! I read it.‘
    ‘Ah, but you only read the lines. You should know by now, my dear, that women always put the important items between them.‘
    ‘Your taxi for the airport, madam,‘ announced Mrs Chuffey at the door. ‘And a gentleman to see you, sir.‘
    ‘Show him in,‘ ordered Sir Lancelot, rising. ‘Off you go, Maud. Have a good time and bring me back a bottle of Fundador. Come in, Simon,‘ he added, after briskly kissing his wife goodbye. ‘I wish to have a talk with you on a matter of some seriousness.‘
    ‘Yes, of course, sir,‘ agreed Simon, switching on an expression of solemnity and standing by the fireplace.
    Sir Lancelot cleared his throat. ‘I gather,‘ he began, ‘you are aspiring for the honour of a place on the St Swithin‘s consultant staff?‘
    ‘That‘s quite right, sir.‘
    ‘H‘m. It is, of course, nothing to do with me, but - good morning, my dear,‘ he broke off as Felicity appeared at the door. ‘Heard from young Randolph? He can‘t be liking it much on that farm your father sent him to in Scotland, not in this weather.‘
    ‘I was just going out, Uncle Lancelot. Did you want anything from the shops?‘
    ‘Thank you, no. By the way, didn‘t I see in the paper this morning your friend Ron has had a play accepted for television? The title escapes me, but I fancy it was something to do with bedbugs. You must be extremely pleased,‘ he told her genially. ‘Perhaps your father will be more inclined to receive him as a successful West End playwright?‘
    She sniffed. ‘Yes, Uncle, of course. Naturally, Uncle.‘
    ‘His television thing is at the end of next month, I believe? I really must tell Mrs Chuffey to watch. Quite a sound girl, that,‘ Sir Lancelot added to Simon. ‘She has become most considerate towards me over the past few weeks. But of course her father has been behaving so oddly. Where was I?‘
    ‘The St Swithin‘s staff, sir.‘
    ‘Yes, of course.‘ Sir Lancelot sat down. ‘I have myself, of course, retired completely from the hospital — How's that niece of mine getting on?‘ he asked suddenly.
    ‘Very well, I should think. Sister Virtue‘s already promoted her from the soiled linen to the washing-up.‘
    ‘She‘ll be a useful member of St Swithin‘s, mark my words, now she‘s got over her juvenile infatuations. I soon put a stop to that, by Harry!‘ He produced his pipe. ‘What was I saying?‘
    ‘About how you‘d retired,‘ supplied Simon patiently.
    ‘Exactly. I have really no right whatever to raise my voice in St Swithin‘s politics,‘ Sir Lancelot continued, leaning forward to knock the pipe out against his heel. ‘I have moreover not the slightest — Ahhhhhhhhh!‘
    ‘Are you all right?‘ cried Simon, leaping forward.
    ‘Lay me flat, boy, lay me flat‘. Damnation! Do you know less surgery than the trainer of Tottenham Hotspurs?‘
    Simon looked round wildly. ‘I - I don‘t seem to see anything flat.‘
    ‘What‘s wrong with