THIRTY-TWO
‘Well?’ Mandy asked.
‘Well what?’
‘Well, what the feck did Len have to say?’ Mandy replied, firmer, and Jack sensed she was running out of patience, don’t ask, it’s just where women were concerned he had a seventh sense.
‘He’s got an ‘eadache and said, as we’re in London on Friday, he’d book a Promenade concert for me, well, us and the kids, and well, I suppose Len as well. It’s one of my favourites, Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto, and guess who’s playing? Only bleedin’ Alexander Pantsoff,’ and Jack shook his head, flicked his working eyebrow, unable to believe his luck.
Mandy was impatient, ‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘And, what else did he say, and what are you thinking about?’ Mandy, a tad impatient Jack noticed, his innate ability to detect moods with women had just proved itself
