Sowerbutt's Friend

Pop grinned: “Been to see Darby Sabini.” “Whoa,” exclaimed Jack, “That’s one naughty boy. Bad temper by all accounts.” “Down to Brighton?” Bernie said. “That’s where he is these days, isn’t it. That punch-up down at Lewes racecourse a few years back.” “Place called Huyton near Liverpool, trains took forever,” Pop said. “An internment camp. He’s as English as you are, Jack, born at Saffron Hill. Set up by the stoppers with his Eyetie name, but he’s got his fancy lawyer working on it.”

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