Sowerbutt's Rhyme

The five-mile trip to Mumbles slipped by quickly. Hand in hand, Sowerbutt and Polly headed to the wooden café, the nearby Victorian pier looking sad with large sections missing. “In case some evil Jerries row all the way up the Bristol Channel and are looking for somewhere to land and have their wicked way with us,” Sowerbutt said.

“You are a crazy man,” laughed Polly, pulling a face.
“How about this?” said Sowerbutt, enjoying his carefree day.
“Mumbles is a funny place,
A church without a steeple,
Houses made of old ships wrecked
And most peculiar people.” http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA

Sowerbutt's War

The longest nights he had spent in Casa de Campo Park and the streets of Carabanchel waiting to slip unseen through the badly-guarded Republican lines. Plenty of Socialist and union dignitaries to eliminate in the Republican-held city. The never-ending night he had spent frozen against the wall of a deserted building in Carabanchel while three young idiots from the Anarchist Brigade sat on the dusty road alongside and drank themselves silly with a liberated case of Russian vodka. When the final chorus was sung and they passed out, he had been sorely tempted to make their sleep eternal with his trusty clasp-knife. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA

Sowerbutt's Past

 "Who are you, senor?” asked the raven-haired woman, her green eyes flashing. “James, ma’am. I was called in to help out some mates with a spot of shifting, carrying and protection. Funny place Wales, now we’re finally here after twisting and turning along the goat tracks. Never been out of the Smoke before, apart from a few day-trips to the seaside,” Sowerbutt grinned.

“Never been out of the Smoke, senor?” She stepped close to Sowerbutt and studied his lean, handsome face, staring into his piercing eyes. “I have a good eye and a good memory for the faces. On Generalissimo Franco’s desk in the grand palace at Salamanca was a photograph framed in gold. One of his favourites. General Moscardo, the hero of Alcazar, as well as his beautiful daughter who was with him in the bloody siege, and her husband, who was an English. A handsome man, he looked like you. You are a tall handsome man, no?" http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA

Sowerbutt's Interview

Rosetta laughed. “I like you, senor, you have a good sense of humour. We will work well together when we trust each other? I notice the men, they defer to you.”

The attractive woman pushed the flat of her hand into his muscled stomach. “A hard man? I know my men, senor. I look into their souls. You are tough, confident and capable.”
She looked over her shoulder at the Spaniards. “Not like these idiots, pollo.”
A closed flick-knife appeared in Rosetta’s hand which she tapped on Sowerbutt’s chest. She whispered: “One day I will tell you stories, Jaime. I have survived a long time in a difficult business because I know my men. If I ever make a mistake, I kill them. A sharp knife always speaks the truth." http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA

Sowerbutt's Job

"I’m just an odd-job man from the Smoke with nothing to hide.” Sowerbutt opened his leather jacket  wide to show his snowy-white shirt, a little the worse for wear. A smile lit up Rosetta’s face, her green eyes flashing. “You have expensive tastes and a good sense of humour, senor.”

Squeals of brakes and hisses of steam heralded the arrival of the London train, on time to the minute. Sowerbutt watched in admiration as the line of chocolate and cream coaches and the large green steam engine backed their way along the platform, amid a flurry of guards and the waving of red and green flags. The first-class carriage came to a halt exactly opposite the painted marks on the platform. At least, the engine-driver and his mates knew what they were doing. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA

Spowerbutt's Fist

Bending down, Sowerbutt slammed his fist into Garcia’s face, the force of the blow breaking the Spaniard’s panic-stricken hold on the railway coach door frame. The semi-conscious man disappeared from sight through the opening, the body slamming twice against the outside of the carriage as it fell. A loud scream faded away as the train sped closer to the town of Newport. “Nothing personal,” Sowerbutt said. Stretching out to heave the banging carriage door closed, he could see Garcia’s body was just a smudge on the side of the track, already many yards distant. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA

Sowerbutt's Match

Polly’s gray eyes flashed, a hard edge toi her voice: “Did we agree that we are partners, or did I misunderstand your promise? I didn’t get on very well at my school in Poplar, but I don’t remember having had a problem with the English language before I met you.”

Sowerbutt shivered at her icy tone. He had faced down hardened killers in Spain and the worst thugs in the East End, but he was no match for his red-haired lady.
“We’ve a few things to talk about, I agree, Polly.” http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA