At Polesden Lacey, a country house with landscaped gardens and rolling hills, I showed the boy some bees flitting from flower to flower. As long as I was right by him, he was not fussed by the critters. Later we walked across the lawns and he found himself amidst a bank of blooms with about four or five bees buzzing in them.
'Bees, bees!' he yelled.
'Relax,' I said. 'They will not bother you. Just keep walking. What did you expect? This is the countryside.'
'Ohmigod, this is the countryside?' he exclaimed in horror. 'I don't want to be in the countryside. I want to be somewhere natural - like London!'