37
“Nice shot,” Tony said to Darren after his friend sank a red. He hit the pool cue on the carpet a couple of times in salute of his mate’s prowess. “You’ve been practising.”
“A little, maybe,” Darren replied, bending over the table to set up another shot. “I had to do something. You were caning me.” He pulled his arm back, following through and potted another red, setting himself up for yet another go.
Tony found a stool to sit on, emphasising there was no need for him to play anymore.
“What’s the matter, Tone? Losing your touch?” Zofia laughed and stuck her tongue out at his jovial two-finger gesture. “Right back at you.”
The best thing about Zofia was her sense of humour. With most of his other girlfriends, he’d admired their bodies first. “Whatever! Watch this!”
Darren stood by
