Ungrateful for small mercies

The gratitude of some people. Last Friday (27 January), a sharp-eyed and kind-hearted cabbie (and no, that’s not an oxymoron) spotted a sheaf of important-looking papers on his back seat. The chap had a quick ruffle through and, having spotted words such as ‘litigation’, ‘urgent’ and ‘you’ll need this for the appeal this Friday’ plastered all over it, generously returned it to the address neatly typed at the top of the page.

He later assured Tulkinghorn that he was in no way expecting anything by way of a reward (although, being a cabbie, his fare would have been a step in the right direction), but some reasonably effusive thanks might have been nice. But apparently no such thanks were offered, just a terse “oh, right”, or words to that effect. The address? 100 Fetter Lane. The firm? Beachcroft Wansbroughs. The moral? Phone ahead next time and get the ransom demand in first.