Sunday 4 November 2012

Sowerbutt's Sorrow

Not one for displaying emotion in front of his men, Sowerbutt, who topped the six-foot mark, stretched up to put his arm round One-Line’s shoulders. “Disappear before the stoppers turn up, my friend. No need to tempt fate. Nothing we can do for our dear Shiny now, but he’ll have the best funeral that Poplar has seen in years.”
Words were always a challenge for One-Line. “Those bastard Reds from Stepney, guv?”
“Maybe, maybe not, One-Line,” said Sowerbutt. “On my wife’s grave, someone will pay.”
Descending the narrow stairs, he put his hands to his face. The first member of the Family was lying dead. All of a sudden, the face, which some women called handsome in a rugged way, looked care-worn. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA

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