“Another thing, James,” Polly said angrily, jabbing her man painfully in the
ribs with her fingers, a trick she had learnt from her mother when she ran the
brothel. “I haven’t seen your wonderful little house, have I? Has it been
painted or is there a single stick of furniture there? Do they have proper
bathrooms in Luton, I am not using a lean-to. Nor am I living in a slum. You go
off buying these places without talking to your partner - is that what I’m called or not these days?”
Sowerbutt was not game to
tell her that the builders had been working from dawn to dusk on the building
in Cheapside. The outside toilet had been demolished
and a new bathroom and American kitchen complete with refrigerator put in. The
latest furniture from John Lewis in Oxford Street had been transported by army
lorries up the A1; a local contractor, supplied with petrol coupons, bringing
the loads across to Luton. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-of-Red-ebook/dp/B00B1CWM5M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358353851&sr=1-1
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