“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.”
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