Sowerbutt's Barber

“Know a bloke called Pietro Chipolina?” “Of course, I do, Pop,” Bernie nodded. “My brother-in-law,  a caporalmaggiore with the Italian lot in Libya.” “Dark hair, brown eyes, scar on the back of his left hand?” The barber looked gobsmacked. “You’ve seen him, Pop. Where is he?” “Done better than that, lad. I bought him.”

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