Grev

he was very pally with a close mate of mine based n Penarth. This friend had a few horses here but more in Ireland and pretty good too some of them.
One day the pub synhdicate had a runner at Newbury and it was my turn to drive. I had a brand new car and parked it in Owners. I had a problem starting after racing and so I called the AA and waited. Obviously I had to pinpoint my parking position to the call centre bloke and on hearing my car was in Owners he asked for a tip. I was in my twenties and all to pleased to give him a tip that Grev had passed on to us earlier.
"Have a few quid on Mr Fordette at Folkestone on Monday. It's well fancied".
It started favourite and was turned over comfortably.Then it started,. It transpired that the Saturday AA casual was an undergraduate at Oxford University and the bstd had made a note of my home address. The first letter was longer than anything written by St Paul and consisted of informing me that he'd done his grant money and what was I gonna do about it. I ignored the daft sod but showed his letter to the blokes in the pub. None of them believed that it was genuine and swore I'd written it. I told the rider and asked him to send the kid a few bob but funnily enough he refused. I then received a ton of threats from the loony at the AA.
I probably should have told the Law or his employer but felt sorry for him. Maybe he turned out to be a serial killer later.
Whenever the name of Harwood or Starkey crops up so does the name Mr Fordette. They still think I wrote that letter. And all the others.