Alf's fruit story

That title should have picqued Dr Zep's interest him being a James Ellroy aficionado. Sadly for him, it is actually a tale about fruit albeit a queer one. We have an apple tree at the bottom of our garden. Once again, it produced a splendid Springtime blossom and later in summer I suddenly noticed how it was laden with fruit. Nothing unusual in that; it was simply surprising how you can take so little notice and then realise that apples have sprouted into life across the tree.

And then they all disappeared. Not one or two. Every single apple. No discards, windfall, maggot-eaten leftovers. Nothing. Very queer indeed. The tree is at the bottom of the garden and beyond the fence it sits against is a railway cutting so it's not beyond belief that some light-fingered scroat had climbed through the mass of bramble and nettles to help himself to my entire apple crop.

There was still the vineyard - 2 red and 2 white vines against the wall perpendicular to the fence above which sat the apple tree. I'd paid particular attention to them this year, pruning frequently and, as the fruit started to appear, removing foliage covering the grapes in order to help them ripen.

Since I started working on a contract in Antwerp my opportunity to pay them but the sparsest of attention has been limited. I had observed that the reds were ripening nicely. Whether I would actually have any time this year to have a crack at some wine-making from my own grapes was debatable, but I was aware I needed to harvest them pretty soon.

So, last weekend I went to take them and found...nothing. Every single grape had disappeared! They'd not been cut off by the bunch, each individual stalk was empty; all 4 vines stripped. It made the carrot-thieving rabbit of 3 years ago seem an amateur. I am in mourning for the Chateau Alf that is not be - this year.