MORNINGS WERE COSMO’S favourite part of the day. He loved the peace and quiet of the empty pub, even though it smelt of stale ale. He had done the same routine for years. Get up, make a cup of tea and eggy soldiers, read the online newspapers, and then restock the bar.
Cosmo enjoyed the silence, knowing that once the morning trade came in, they would blast out the same tunes on the jukebox all day and night unless he had live music and the band’s music blasted through the lounge.
The toaster spat out his toast as he thought about his old rockers in the Philippines, and Kipper, who he’d put off calling until the old men came back so they could call him together. ‘I bet the little sod’s living it up in the big city.’ he thought and chuckled.
The Wellow was back to normal after the incredi
