It was a wet night, and we missed our bus. It was a long walk home; we dragged our heels over black pavements, slouching in and out of circles of light from the street lamps. “Let"s get that fucker, Cain and that cunt, Tolly,” I said. Sam smiled.
I hadn"t forgotten Cliesh, but I"d given up hope of ever seeing her again. How could a daft apprentice find her? Because of Cliesh I loved music. One night I came out of a cinema where I"d watched Carmen Jones. My head was full of the beautiful Dorothy Dandridge.
“Tim! Tim Ronsard.”
My eyes locked onto Cliesh"s eyes; Oh Sweet Jesus, just to see her. I felt my face reddening and looked away. She was lovelier now. I wanted to impress her, say something that would make her laugh, but I could hardly breathe.
“Hello, Miss Clieshman, how are you?”
