Husborne Crawley Fête is so English you expect John Nettles to turn up an any moment, or Bertie Wooster to come round the side of Crawley Park and ask if there's anyone for tennis. Maypole dancing, Pimms and coconut shy. The day things like an English country Fête don't happen any more, and the day the last English pub sells the last pint of real ale - that's when we will let the Americans have their Apocalypse. And not before.
You don't want John Nettles turning up - you'll be knee-deep in corpses in no time if he shows his face.
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