Sowerbutt's Advice

The slight military man sipped his Old Bushmills. “We were worried about you, Mr Sorbay. The bombing has been serious in your patch, I’m led to believe.”

Sowerbutt laughed. “I’m impressed, John. You motored all the way up here on your scarce coupons to enquire after my health?”
The military man looked sheepish. “The thing is, old boy, my masters want to know how people are taking the bombing. What happens if it goes on for a while? They’re your people, don’t you know.”
Sowerbutt nodded: “How is London taking it? That’s a question and a half, John. You can’t do much about the families who have lost loved ones and there are lots of those. Some cope, some don’t. As you are asking, something for your masters to consider, John. Goods are plentiful in the West End, scarce in my patch. You wouldn’t know there’s a war on in some of the posh hotels and restaurants. Protest marches in the East End streets put on for the foreign newspapers? Can’t rule them out, can you? Shops and warehouses looted? Food riots? It may come to that if all the stuff stays in the West End. Your masters would do well to sort that one out."
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