Awkward alternator

A Good Friday. Spent the afternoon catching up with friends, including a good chat with L over naughty slices of cake in a local cafe. Then met up an old school chum I hadn't seen for years, now a distinguished university lecturer, together with the friend who underwent recent brain surgery and is now making excellent progress. Good to see her back on form.

Dropped her back home, where her husband R was hard at work in the garage on his 1970 MG Midget. He acquired it as a 'barn find' wreck in the late 1980s, rebuilt it, installed a Rover twin cam engine and has fun with it as a track car. It needed a new alternator, and the one that had to be removed was such a tight fit that it took him most of the day to extract it. We arrived to find him with a skinned knuckle and frayed temper, but he soon cheered up over a chat and a laugh.

Mr Brock was back tonight, scoffing the peanuts again. None of his chums were with him though. Maybe he hasn't told them ...