Having inveighed earlier this month about Grand Prix mania, I found myself this afternoon with the grandchildren at the Roses Theatre in Tewkesbury, watching a play all about racing cars. The character on the right of my photograph was Farmer Green, whose secret apple and raspberry-based biofuel ensured the victory of the little guy against the big bad favourite for the race. But there wasn't a lot of reflection on the need to stop all this motor racing malarkey in its tracks. At least one can say - and it's rare these days - that the plot involved neither casual killing nor alien monsters. The grandchildren of course lapped it all up, and I felt worthy - he says, sanctimoniously - having resisted pleas to buy "merchandise", as well as for having taken them there and back via two buses each way.