Abstract
Orville's foot sank in the soft ground and once he was out of the brush and onto the tarmac, he spent a minute scrapping the sole clean. There was a red pick-up pulled up in front of the estate gates, right under the flag-pole. It was a big American pick-up, a Chevy with fat wheel arches in the back and wide double-sized knobbly tires. The kind of thing which had been designed for off-roading but, in reality, which never ventured far from the pub car-park.
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