TwentyMay, the Seville Theatre, Whitburn on Sea
'You'll never believe this Stan, but it's that piss artist wanker Charlie Chilton, got is'self on the telly. Yeah, Chilton, you know, the Great I don't think so Santini.'
CIGARETTE SMOKE SWIRLED ABOUT BENNY MARSDEN'S HEAD in a permanent haze as he sat at his desk, supposedly working, calculating the returns from the week's business at the Seville. It was not pleasant reading and the owners of the theatre, a pair of elderly Whitburn spinsters who had inherited the theatre from their impresario father, Edmund de Vale, would not be happy, not happy at all. Every Monday morning the Miss Elspeth de Vale 79, and the Miss Edith de Vale 77, who lived in a 12 bedroom Victorian Gothic monstrosity overlooking the cliffs at Whitburn's North Beach, came
