“There would have been no room for oil or tomato sauce, mused Ged Hardman as he wedged himself into a chair at the usual table near the window. Roy was late, as was Mary Palmer. Ged almost ground his teeth with impatience; the woman was probably all my eye and Betty Martin, somebody who got a lift out of leading men on, too much talk and no delivery date. Above all things, Ged wanted to be married. A nice young woman on his arm would boost his confidence, give him a reason to stop boozing and to... start living. It wasn’t fair. He knew other blokes who had suffered with acne, but none had a face like his. If he could only find somebody – anybody – Mother could get in her Bentley and drive to hell on her own. The solid mass of people began to disperse. They would be going to the Lido or the Odeon to see some war film or other. On Saturday nights, most folk didn’t bother with the B movies. They had a few drinks and a laugh before dashing off to munch popcorn and butterscotch through the main feature.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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