When my father was at university, he could not afford to have his shirts laundered, so would post them to his mother in far-away Cornwall. After all, she had nothing to do except run a farm.
When I was at uni, college supplied beat-up twin tubs for laundry. However, there were no university libraries in Cornwall, so for vacation reading, I used to bundle up a stack of books and post them home.
In previous generations things cost a lot of money while postage was cheap, so if I had left behind a hairbrush or a pair of slippers, Mum would post it on. Now the equation is different.
However, this Easter, after our family trip to Athens, Pascoe flew straight back to Edinburgh. So we still had at home his beloved unicycle, Goldberry, and his fire-juggling equipment (he had visited the National Juggling Conference earlier). "Obviously", he needed these things in Edinburgh.
The hour had arrived – a student parcel was called for.
I loathe spending time making a parcel secure with yards of sticky tape, and then queuing at the post office, so the task fell to Nigel.
As you can see, when Pascoe receives the parcel, it will look positively pleased to see him.