The scrawny little man’s legs
moved up and down in sequence, his hands twisting his tweed cap nervously.
“They all say I should leave the ladies alone, Mr Sorbay. That I don’t know
what I’m letting myself in for. But I’ve got a good eye, I know what I’m
looking for.”
The two men were sharing a
bar table in the Engine, a small pub near the centre of Luton. “I spotted this stunner in the Irish Quarter. Beautiful, had long black hair, what a dish. Wasn’t Irish, looked foreign like. She was going shopping with a basket.
“While she was busy in the corner shop across the road, I nipped back the way she came. As she started walking back, I bumped into her. Easy way to get chatting."
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