Saturday 27 October 2012

Sowerbutt's Friend

His blue eyes twinkling, the Prime Minister strode across to where Sowerbutt was standing outside the blackened ruins of a still burning shop. His white face streaked with dust and grime, Sowerbutt had not slept for 24 hours, working through the terrible night protecting some of the Family’s larders and rescuing bewildered tenants from nearby bombed houses that the Family owned. One of their important larders, an empty shop near Queens Theatre in Poplar, had taken a direct hit.
Gripping Sowerbutt’s hand and shaking it vigorously, Churchill barked: “I see you are back from Ireland and that dreadful de Valera fellow, Mr Sorbay. What do they call him, Taoiseach or some such? I call him something quite different, monster of a man. Never trusted him an inch, took up arms against our honest British soldiers and then blew up half of his own Irish compatriots.”
The Prime Minister chuckled: “But I do like to get my own way, Mr Sorbay. Brendan told me I was not allowed to meet you and now I have at last here in Poplar. I shall look forward to telling him all about our meeting, such a spoilsport.
“I like you, Mr Sorbay, and I like the way you get things done. I wish you had a seat in my Cabinet. But now I can say I have met the man who saved the British Empire." amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-S

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