SEVEN
ILKESTON AND BAKEWELL, DERBYSHIRE, 2023 AD
“Let’s go to Elcha’s Tun.” Jake grinned at the puzzled expression on Alice’s face but, as usual, her quick wits astonished him.
“By which you mean Ilkeston, but why do you need to go to Derbyshire?”
“Well spotted, Alice! That’s the Anglian name for the town.”
“It wasn’t so difficult, dear boy,” she imitated Sir Clive, “but I should point out that you’re not as thin as a lath.”
“What?”
“If you’re doubled in pain and thin as a lath, come at once then and try, the famed Ilkeston Bath. An 1831 advertising slogan—frankly, I’m surprised your magpie mind hadn’t picked it up. Anyway, it’s a long drive, so you must have a pressing reason to travel so far.”
“I do. But if you don’t feel up to it, in your condition…”
“Damn it, Jake, I’m not ill
