In my side vision I watched the rise and fall of Delilah’s bosom. A sagacious woman, once she’d cottoned that Benny Muir would fill an otherwise dead night she trapped the sewer gas that was Burton’s musical congregation for the sake of his Sessions, persuading anyone with a ukulele and a functioning voice to come along. With the blandishments and honeyed words of the devoted mother, Delilah had cultivated loyalty from a pack of talentless no hopers. Impressive, but I doubted her shrewd nature extended to the booking of Juan Diaz to stand in after Benny’s untimely demise. Untimely, for it was Christmas Eve after all, and no proprietor wants tragedy looming over the festive season. It isn’t good for business.
There wasn’t much she could do about the weather, although I dare say she would i
