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It is the day of the village fete. Everyone is setting out their stall on the village green next to the post office. The Blacksmiths Arms is unveiling its new lunchtime menu and Honor Blackman has baked one hundred scones (fifty fruit, fifty cheese) for the Women's Institute stall. All the Major has to do is deliver said scones to the WI stall before mid day, then he will be free to do as he pleases, whether it is sitting in the Blacksmiths beer garden for the rest of the afternoon thereby avoiding the irritations of what he calls "a fete worse than death" - see what he did there? - or sit...