TWENTY
Pimple closed the call, looked first towards Cecelia then at Jack Austin, who guessed at the caller. ‘Poopey?’
Pimple nodded, ‘Yes.’
‘Southwark?’ Jack asked.
Pimple nodded again. ‘He’s just locked his bike up to the cathedral railings.’ He swiveled his gaze to the gorgeous Cecelia, ‘I have agreed to meet him with Ceeley after he has been to Ma-Santi and few other corporate offices.’
Before Cecelia could respond and ask what he was doing at Ma-Santi, Father Mike appeared having let himself in via the back door. He bounded in like Tigger, through the kitchen and on into the dining room. ‘Whatto, everybody peeps,’ the priest called, mimicking both the posh Pimple and the cockney Jack, before taking a seat and summoning some breakfast from the steaming Mandy. For a dipstick priest
