They both laughed quietly, and c*****d glasses in celebration. Custer started to light another cigarette – a liberty that he had “negotiated” with the owner of the pub. Billy was a good boy, he thought; smart as they come, both in his head and with the clobber he wore. He made Custer feel like a bundle of old rags.
Just then the pub door swung open, and a suited man walked in, peering into the gloom. Billy, whose eyes were well adjusted to the dark in the room, turned to look towards the door, then back round to Custer, and said: “Talking of manpower.”
He got to his feet, and called out to the newcomer: “Lee! Over here! Alright son.”
The man had spun round towards their table, and his eyes lit up as he saw a familiar face. Another suit, thought Custer, as the new man walked quickly over
