Roaching partners

Leaving the City hordes behind, Tulkinghorn treated himself to a trip to the seaside last week, only to find that there’s no getting away from the legal market.
Cruising along to Southsea, the harbour area of Plymouth (oh, the glamour), Tulkinghorn pulled into nearby Emsworth to visit the world’s best sausage pub for a meat stuffing and a pint of fine Sussex ale.
Tulkinghorn is withholding the name of the pub (after all, it wouldn’t be the world’s best sausage pub if the City masses found it), but parked in the car park was a dishevelled orange camper van, circa 1969.
For those of you more familiar with Aston Martins, this is the sort of hippie ride that would have looked at home at Glastonbury festivals (a popular music gathering)of yesteryear (before the organisers built a huge fence to keep out the filthy, non-paying hedgemonkeys).
On the dashboard of this bohemian bus was a bewildering array of junk that looked like it had been nicked from a tramp’s supermarket trolley. Items included a packet of Marlboro Lights with the word ‘smoking’ in ‘Smoking Kills’ scribbled out and replaced with the word ‘soldiers’. A pair of plastic antlers also featured prominently.
Pride of place, how-ever, went to a business card from West End boutique Gordon Dadds family partner Ann Northover. According to her biography, Nothover is fond of Italian food and wine, London theatre, modern art and jazz. There was no mention of spliffs, bongs and kaftans.
“I knew our marketing was good,” gasped a stunned Northover, “but this is impressive. I have, however, no knowledge of how it got there.”