Over the seasons many of you have commented on the patience…okay, sainthood, of No.2. The following is only bound to confirm this view of her.

Three springs ago, I packed my bags and took a client to Kaytor Peaks on the south island of New Zealand. We spent a glorious week stalking said peaks for medal giants. When I emailed No. 2 for her input on whether to go for a skull or cape mount for the 19 point red I’d bagged, she was unequivocal in her support of my judgment. Well, actually she pointed out that we were residing in a thatched cottage with ceilings that contributed to my hairloss and very little hanging space.

So you can imagine her delight on receiving the delivery of a large box on our drive (see above). Fred was promptly relocated to the wall of a local shoot room where he enjoyed a happy two year sabbatical. In the interim, we relocated to a Victorian residence with higher ceilings and ample wall space. We reached a compromise: she got her grey walls, I got Fred.

Small wonder, then, when I announced I was planning to depart for South Africa this spring (in pursuit of yellow fish, guinea fowl, francolin…oh and springbok, warthogs and who knows what else) that No. 2 announced her bags were packed. After all, my excuse of teenagers needing supervision during A levels no longer holds, and there are intriguing reports of diamonds in them there hills…

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