Thursday 30 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Rules

"Jimmy Sorbay was fiercely protective of his people - friends, clients, tenants or the Poplar community generally," the retired writer for the East London Pioneer, who still has the notebook from his early 1960s interview with Sowerbutt, said. "The food inspectors in the war got up to all sorts of stupid tricks, claiming it sent a message to families to keep to the rules. One day in 1941 a team of women, strangers in the area, tried to trick shop assistants into selling goods without coupons. The woman handed over her ration book and asked for two ounces of tea or cheese or whatever the commodity was. When the assistant had almost finished serving her, the woman changed her mind and asked for four ounces. If the assistant forgot to take the second coupon, they were charged with breaking the law. Tipped off by the matchbox men, Sorbay's lads sealed off East India Dock Road and High Bob and hauled these women out onto the street. No disrespect was shown, but Jimmy tore up the charge sheets and they were told in no uncertain terms it would be to their advantage never to return. White-faced, they were marched back to Whitechapel and then left to their own devices. Nothing further was heard about the matter."
  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

Sowerbutt's Alibi

"Jimmy Sorbay always maintained he had an alibi for the night early in 1949 when Viscount Bearsted's house in Piccadilly was knocked off," the retired writer for the East London Pioneer, who still has the notebook from his early 1960s interview with Sowerbutt, said. "Whether he was involved, I can't say. But the stoppers came to see him about it. It was a big robbery. The heirlooms taken were said to be worth more than £20,000. The viscount was a war hero from the first lot and a bigwig with the Shell oil company." 
 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

Sowerbutt's Cars

"Warren Street, just behind Euston Road, was used-car alley after the war," the retired writer for the East London Pioneer, who still has the notebook from his early 1960s interview with Jimmy Sowerbutt, said. "There'd be dozens of cars and vans for sale there every day; many of them hot. Buyer beware if you had any sense. The dealers, spivs we called them, dealt in cash - to avoid problems with Inland Revenue and with the buyers when the cars broke down. That's where Jimmy Sorbay and his lads came in, offering protection to the dealers and particularly to the bankers who would look after the cash for the day. He often worked for Big Stan Setty, who sold cars as well as being a banker. Setty was chopped up by his business partner in 1949 and dropped from a plane on the marshes near Southend. Jimmy always said it was a sad end for an honest crook."  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

Wednesday 29 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Discovery


 “I spotted this stunner in the Irish Quarter when I was looking around. Beautiful, had long black hair. Wasn’t Irish, looked foreign like. She was going shopping," Nero said.
“So 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. Some of the stuff fell out her basket and she said, ‘A broch’. That’s a Jewish swear word, then she apologised and said she hadn’t seen me. I offered to help her home with her shopping, but she said there was no need.
“I followed her but she didn’t see me, of course. A couple of minutes after she went in, a terrace, a curtain was pulled back in an upstairs room. They didn’t spot me.”
“So you reckon it’s the Haganah, Nero? You’ve found the proverbial needle in a haystack,” Sowerbutt said.
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

Sowerbutt's Informant


“Much on the street, Jack?” Sowerbutt asked his tailor.
“Very little. The rich scurry for the remote countryside, others with more self-respect are doing war work. Some of the Zionists are angry about the new policies in Palestine, but they hate the Nazis more. A few of the young ones - Haganah, they call themselves - want to smuggle illegals into Palestine, save the persecuted families from Europe. Give them a fresh start. Good people, hearts in the right place.”
“Good man, Jack,” Sowerbutt smiled, rising to leave. “I’ll keep my eyes open for more cloth for you.”
“Ay-yay-yay, Mr Sorbay. You will get a poor, hard-working man into trouble.”
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

Tuesday 28 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Worry


Polly smiled: Ill be glad of some decent food. The rations are hopeless, that is if you can find anything. Everybody is saying the same. It is alright those politicians talking about fighting the Jerries on the beaches. Meanwhile were wasting away. Talk about slim figures, walking skeletons more like. Thank goodness for those tins of steak you got hold of.
Sowerbutt took a mouthful of tea. “The fact remains we are all in danger of getting killed if we stay here. Look at the fight the Brylcreem Boys are putting up to stop the Jerries. Day after day and planes dropping like flies everywhere. I heard they downed tools at Manston the other day, had enough of it.
The Jerry bombers are going to come for London and the Docks soon and the RAF cant stop them. That means we will get it in the neck. What about that raid last weekend, the City and Millwall copped it.
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

Sowerbutt's Idea


Slumping into one of the leather chairs in Coach’s tiny office, Sowerbutt exclaimed: “What on earth gave you the idea of ballet lessons?”
“Something you mentioned, Jimmy. Remember you talked about employing Madame Komarovski to change One-Line’s walk? I got to thinking she might help the way the lads move about in the ring. Give them a bit of an edge.”
Sowerbutt nodded: “She has done a brilliant job with One-Line. The big oaf still worries about someone from his old battalion recognising him as a deserter. But I tell him his own mother, God rest her soul, would not recognise him. Different man. The glasses and hair colouring as well.”
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

Sowerbutt's Dance


A stick poking into his back broke his reverie. “Please pay more attention, Mr Sorbay. You are expected to set an example to the boys,” Madame Komarovski snapped. A loud cough covered Coach’s snigger.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Sowerbutt replied, kicking his legs higher.
Tucking her guidance stick under her arm, Madame Komarovski clapped her hands twice. “More effort next week, gentlemen, if you please. I don’t come along here for fun, I expect 100 per cent from you. Your hour is up, class dismissed.”
With a curt nod to Sowerbutt and Coach, the diminutive dance teacher collected her cloak and bag and swept out of the gym.
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

Sunday 26 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Haul

"Berry Blackmore ran a pawnshop in High Bob for years," the retired writer for the East London Pioneer, who still has the notebook from his early 1960s interview with Jimmy Sowerbutt, said. "During the Depression, you'd see the housewives pawning their bits and pieces on Mondays and Tuesdays to tide them over, then reclaiming them on Thursdays - pay day. Berry opened up the shop a couple of weeks before Easter 1946 to find he'd been robbed. Called the police, but the best they could do was circulate the long list of stolen items - no fingerprints or clues. Berry dropped round to see Jimmy, with whom he had done a lot of business over the years - fencing jewellery and so on. One thing Jimmy didn't appreciate was criminals coming into his patch, particularly when his friends were robbed. Took him 24 hours to find the culprit - a chancer from over Hammersmith way. The chancer turned up, black and blue and stark nnaked, tied to a post outside the local nick with a signed confession nailed to the fence. Two bags with the stolen goods mysteriously turned up at Berry's shop. Case solved."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

Sowerbutt's Boots

"Loads of army surplus stuff after the war," the retired writer for the East London Pioneer, who still has the notebook from his early 1960s interview with Jimmy Sowerbutt, said. "They'd ordered loads of stuff for the war with Japan but the Bomb put paid to that. One of Jimmy's mates in the Tower Hamlets Rifles at Bow tipped him off about a warehouse full of boots that was being sold off. He had a sticky beak at the other bids, but put his own in and got the boots. Reckoned he paid about half-a-crown a pair. Sold them in the markets and the pubs for £2, sometimes as low as £1 15/-. Made a killing. Great quality, you'd still see them being worn in the streets 20 years later."
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

Sowerbutt's Scissors

"You wouldn't believe the shortages we had after the war," the retired writer for the East London Pioneer, who still has the notebook from his early 1960s interview with Jimmy Sowerbutt, said. "Everything sort of collapsed, people went back to their old ways and there was none of the effort being made in the factories. Jimmy told me he came across this old boy in Southwark who wanted out - retirement to Spain. He made all sorts of scissors for the kitchen, bathroom and tailors. Polly had a lot of experience of factories during the war and in no time at all they had turned the factory around. Moved out to a new site Woolwich way, someone said. He must have sold it before he disappeared in the fifties. You still see Sowerbutt's scissors in homes around the East End."
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

Saturday 18 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Patience


Turning on the bound man, Sowerbutt snapped: “Now you goose-stepping Reds will learn your lesson at last. Touch my Family and the heavens fall in. Come into my patch again and every last Red is dead. How many warnings do you need, you thick bastards?
“One more slap and gag him, One-Line. Let him stew for a bit. We’ll pop over to the Manor House. Relax with a couple of drinks and then we’ll come back and finish off this piece of rubbish. We’ll collect the rest of the lads, pick up some shooters and clean out the rest of the bastard Reds in Stepney once and for all. I’ve had enough of them.”
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

Sowerbutt's Task


Sowerbutt had been listening to the 7 o’clock news read by Alvar Liddell with more gloom and doom about the bombing. “Time for a quick whiskey, Mr Sorbay,” said the smiling face as the slight military man popped his head into the private office at the brothel.  “A quick whiskey before you catch your train, that is. I hope you can make the 8 o’clock Weymouth express tonight. The 9 o’clock at the latest, I've checked they are running. I have a car outside and my other driver is collecting your colleagues. Just had a radio message from the embassy that our Senor Gonzales is a passenger on tonight’s BOAC service from Lisbon. He tells me that he is a good friend of ours, a convert to the cause you might say.
“But we would like you to keep an eye on him, a close eye, from the moment he steps off the launch at Poole to when he signs in at the Savoy. A watch on any contacts he might make.  A wink and a nod to someone, a slip of paper passed in the railway carriage corridor, I want to know about it."
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

Sowerbutt's Material


Sowerbutt smiled: One thing before you go, Mr Bracken. I get here and there all over the Smoke as you know. I hear about things and sometimes Im offered items. If something, say from a foreign embassy, was mentioned, would you be interested?
Brendan Bracken looked sharply at the man across the night club table. “Material from embassies in general, yes we would certainly be interested but for goodness sake dont get caught. There would be no official acknowledgement or help despite Churchills high opinion of you.
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

Sowerbutt's Food


Brendan Bracken looked worried. The bombing goes on night after night, Sorbay. It is relentless. Our information is that more Jerry bomber squadrons are waiting in the wings. How long can London take it? How long before serious riots start, warehouses, offices and shops looted? Widespread disorder. Weve had some bad incidents already as Im sure youve heard. The Old Man wants to know how long he has got. We havent got enough police to maintain order and we cant call the troops out. Jerry propaganda and the American Isolationists would have a field day. And theres a worrying trend of desertion rates of troops from East End homes. Can hardly shoot them all, never find them anyway.
Sowerbutt nodded: The East End is on a knife edge, Mr Bracken. Theres much more you dont hear about. Families wont stand by and see their children starve. Still very little food in the East End.
“Despite what you say, the high and mighty are eating well in the West End hotels and restaurants, while we are going without. Remember the hotels and restaurants are staffed by East End workers. Ration cards are fine, but if the housewives cant find food, whats the use?
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

Friday 17 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Plea


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, two things 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, I hear. 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 out."
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

Sowerbutt's Wish


Spaghetti sipped his whiskey: “This robbery is like the bullion the South London gang knocked off at the aerodrome a few years ago, not long before you went on holiday. Stoppers didn’t have a clue.”
“That’s right, Spaghetti, I remember that. Croydon has never been too hot on security, has it?” Sowerbutt said.
“I think it was ’35, guv. The stoppers fitted up one bloke and he went down, still inside. I heard the gold found its way across the Channel, couple of the lads involved are living safe and sound in Portugal and another is risking it with a hotel on the beachfront at Brighton. Probably full of hungry army squaddies now.”
Sowerbutt grinned. “They just strolled in too if I recall. Let’s hope it stays as quiet for us."
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 

Sowerbutt's Observation


“Tell you what, did you see all those new signs on the way back from Croydon aerodrome?" Sowerbutt said. "You’ve got to laugh. The Home Guard and the council lads taking the road signs down everywhere to stop the Fifth Column and delay a Jerry invasion. And some bright sparks are putting up new signs to the aerodrome, looked very smart. This way Mr Jerry, here are some aeroplanes for you to blow up. Left hand, right hand, what a hoot.”

Thursday 9 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Delivery


Nero slowed the Ford at the guard post at the main entrance to Luton Hoo. From the faint lights flickering inside the huts, they could see a beefy Redcap sergeant standing in the road, a Lee Enfield rifle slung over his shoulder, his hand held up in a halt sign. As the Ford came to a halt, a mobile searchlight was switched on in defiance of the blackout, bathing the car in light. A second Redcap walked around the car with 2 Alsatians, barking and sniffing the car's wheels. After the sergeant peered inside the vehicle, checked the occupants and ticked some papers on a clipboard, the barrier was opened and Nero eased the car forward. A Beds and Herts Regiment captain smartly marched out of one of the guard huts, barked orders at a group of soldiers who snapped to attention and saluted. As the Ford drove up the driveway, Sowerbutt noticed the soldiers were on full alert, patrols marching around the buildings, several machine-gun posts manned and a scattering of Redcaps with Alsatians straining at their leashes. A civilian in a business suit came down the steps to welcome the visitor as he alighted from the car. Not a word was said as the man wearing the uniform of an SS Oberstgruppenfuhrer walked stiffly into the house. "Talkative bastard, wasn't he, guv?" Nero said as they drove away. "Regular barrel of laughs," Sowerbutt smiled. "Let's hope he brings peace."
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

Sowerbutt's Welcome


The twin-engine aircraft, measuring more than 50 feet from wingtip to wingtip, seemed to hover in the air for a couple of seconds, a few feet above the grass, then its undercarriage touched the ground, bounced, touched the ground again and began running across the field. As it slowed, its tail dropped, the rear wheel connecting with the airfield. Swinging around, the aircraft began taxiing towards the nearest hangar. “Step on it, Nero,” Sowerbutt shouted.
By the time the car reached the hangar, a tall dark-skinned man with thick black hair and sunken eyes was standing by the stationary aircraft. He was wearing a leather flight jacket and pale blue Luftwaffe overalls. “Keep me covered, just in case,” Sowerbutt whispered to Spaghetti as he stepped out of the car. “Welcome to England, sir. I have been ordered to take you to Luton Hoo for discussions with our government.”
He instantly recognised the visitor from the Pathe News at the cinema as well as from frequent newspaper photographs.
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

Sowerbutt's Guest


Sowerbutt, Spaghetti and Nero stood beside the Ford A Model watching the aircraft’s approach, ready to drive out onto the airfield the minute it landed. The other men were following the plane’s arrival from their posts around the airfield.
The slight military man had been driven down to RAF Fighter Command HQ at Bentley Priory near Stanmore to make sure there were no slip-ups, his officers on similar missions at operational airfields across the Home Counties. The signals sergeant was in the upstairs room of the Bull, checking on the messages relayed over the emergency channel and sipping a glass of Old Bushmills. Percy was pedalling hard on his vintage bike along Faldo Road for the fourth time that night with the latest estimated time of arrival. As he heard the two Daimler-Benz engines thundering overhead, he realised his trip was wasted.
Four airmen hurried across the grass field, lighting oil lamps positioned along the main approach. The aircraft slowly turned, lost height and made its final approach, its swastika markings clearly visible in the moonlight. The Hurricanes circled in the distance, their pilots watching every move. “OK lads, as soon as it lands we’ll head out and pick up the VIP,” Sowerbutt said.
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 

Sunday 5 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Duty


"A lot of valuable goods being stored at Shapiro’s, Mr Sorbay. You wouldn’t see them in any inventory, but I watched them being carted in at Regent’s Canal Basin," Nero said. "Crates of machine parts and instruments, medicines, shooters and ammo, some sacks of chemicals, bundles of copper wire, ingots. All ready to load on the neutral ships sailing to the Baltic, like.”
Sowerbutt nodded: “Old Man Shapiro is being a naughty boy smuggling scarce supplies out to the Russkies, he gets top prices, I bet. But we need the scarce supplies for our war effort, our patriotic duty is to rescue the stuff.”
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

Sowerbutt's Bank Notes


“I was visiting a lady friend up in town, Mr Sorbay. She has a room in one of those big buildings overlooking Soho Square that the Maltese have taken over, " Nero said.
“A couple of them were talking outside the door. One said he was working here and there for the Post Office, and he was sent down to the aerodrome at Croydon the other day to help out with some mailbags for the banks. They were full of bank notes.
“The bags are brought down by the Brylcreem Boys on one of those Dragon planes, he said. The Brylcreem Boys are armed, but then the bags are dumped on a cart and taken over to some storage place. No security, just an old caretaker. They load the bags into their Post Office truck and drive them back to a sorting office in the city and then they are delivered to the banks. The driver told him they used to have a police escort, but the boys in blue are so short-staffed these days.
“Well, well, Nero, an interesting tale. We had better act quick smart before your bloke spreads the story too far,” Sowerbutt said.
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

Sowerbutt's Doubts


As the bucket of cold water hit the two Russians, Madame Komarovski's voice snapped: “Games over, gentlemen. You die here and your bodies are taken on a one-way trip down The River. Or you go quietly to the West India Docks where a merchantman is sailing tonight for Liverpool and an Atlantic convoy. In Halifax, you will be released to do whatever you want. Any nonsense during the voyage and you are over the side.”
It took seconds for the two Russians to grunt and nod their agreement.
As the Russians were led off to a borrowed army lorry waiting outside, Sowerbutt turned to Spaghetti. “Am I going soft? Should we have ended this here and now. Nobody touches or threatens the Family. Anybody who doesn’t know the rules in this patch learns the hard way.”
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

Sowerbutt Quiz 2

1/ What is the name of Brendan Bracken's faithful butler?
2/ How did SS Brigadefuhrer Wilhelm Henschke die?
3/ One of their larders was hit in the big bombing raid, but Sowerbutt thought he was lucky. Why?
4/ Who recognised Sowerbutt during Winston Churchill's visit to Poplar?
5/ What was the name of Maud's cat who died in the bombing?
6/ What were the two Russians painted with when they were chained up outside Toynbee Hall?
7/ What song did Nero sing as a warning during the break-in at the terrace in Luton's Irish Quarter.
8/ What did One-Line do to Mr Witherspoon's much-loved car?
9/ Why did Bernie White, the barber, jump ship in Gibraltar?
10/ What did Tipper leave on the steps of the Soviet Embassy?
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

Saturday 4 May 2013

Sowerbutt's Tea Rooms


“I dropped by for a cup of your excellent coffee, Jack. Or are refreshments only for your important customers?” Sowerbutt said.
“Ay-yay-yay, no peace for a poor tailor,” Jack Shakes muttered as he disappeared into a back room, returning minutes later with two large cups of coffee and a plate of fresh Mandelbrot.
“Delicious,” Sowerbutt said, sipping the coffee. “We should set up tea rooms, Jack. We’d make a fortune, they’d be queuing out the door. Your coffee and biscuits are legendary.”
“Who would look after your clothes then, Mr Sorbay? I was only born with one pair of hands and I am only allotted 24 hours each day,” Jack smiled. The two men had been friends for years; Sowerbutt ringing the Whitechapel shop with his Blackshirt I section during the chaotic Battle of Cable Street in 1936. None of the Reds had been game to take on his fierce fists and his cosh.
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

Sowerbutt's Lessons


“One-two-three, one-two-three. Come along, lift your legs higher.” Madame Komarovski said. “Now then gentlemen, we can all do better. Otherwise, I’ll have you in tights, more elegant than your baggy shorts and hairy legs.”
Sowerbutt had not expected Coach Marigold’s answer when he asked his old friend the previous day whether much had happened during his weeks away.  Coach blurted out: “We’ve started ballet lessons, Jimmy.”
He quickly added: “It’s improved the boys’ balance and reflexes out of sight, Jimmy and we’ve only been going a week or two.”
Shaking his head, Sowerbutt said: “I just cannot see you in a pink tutu, my  friend.”
Coach, thickset and bald, smiled: “Don’t you worry, Jimmy. When I heard you were back, I put you down for this week’s session.”
Her guidance stick poking into his back broke his reverie. “Please pay more attention, Mr Sorbay. You are expected to set an example to the boys,” Madame Komarovski snapped. A loud cough covered Coach’s snigger.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Sowerbutt replied and kicked his legs higher.