Chapter 3
Saturday arrived, and with it, torrential rain. Sam sat in his freezing cold room in the attic, listening to the noise on the roof. It was like sitting inside a tea tin with someone hammering on it. The door opened and his friend Gareth threw himself through in dramatic fashion. Gareth was the man he shared a room with sometimes. Gareth was small, dark, and theatrical to the point where Sam often wondered if he couldn’t make a living on the stage. In the brothel, he went by the name of Romeo. It somehow suited him better than the rather pragmatic Gareth.
“Bastards!” he declared. “Bastards. The lot of them.” He tossed his long dark hair over one shoulder. His hair was silky and straight and he spent hours brushing it and tending it. His eyebrows were plucked into slender arches,
