Drive. There's no other way.

Yateley is green, leafy and pleased with itself, with a big common and village greens all over. Crime's under half the typical town's. They built a wartime airfield on the common, but nobody's managed a railway station since, and the buses don't go anywhere useful, so everyone drives.

The shops sell milk and not much else. Somebody keeps dumping rubbish on all that lovely green, too: fly-tipping across Hart runs above the typical council's rate. Otherwise it's annoyingly fine.

The editor, who needed a lift home