You are only eighty once and, sustained by an unexpectedly early pension from the Royal Literary Fund, I decided to enjoy two short holidays, one in the UK and one in Normandy. The UK was really a golfing break, which involved playing every morning on a nine-hole course and staying in luxury hotels in Bedfordshire. It will surprise my few friends, as well as my enemies, to learn that I play golf. I am only an indifferent driver and chipper, but a truly brilliant putter – well up to professional level. (I am also, believe it or not, a very good tennis player; once, in my youth, I won a tournament). To my surprise and gratification, my golf has, if anything, improved since I last played ten years ago – on my 70th birthday. I went round the nine holes in 42 on my last outing and felt thoroughly pleased...
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