He’d not really registered Alf much on their first meeting. He and his pals had been on leave in Paris and ended up in some dive in Montmartre and bumped into a group of lads from a Warwickshire regiment. Adam had exchanged a few words with Alf but despite the pleasantries, he had been initially dismissive.
Adam had just seen the superficial aspects of his new acquaintance. A mere corporal to his rank of lieutenant. The unremarkable appearance, thick spectacles, quiet manner, and West Midlands accent, the fact he was a hands-on engineer by trade. Despite the smiling camaraderie within the group of soldiers, Adam had inwardly dismissed him as a lower-middle-class grammar-school boy with not much going for him.
Looking back at his callow younger self, this only proved that Mrs. Merryweathe
