queen 4

It’s just me and Tim. It’s about the fourth generation of publicans. Some have liked us and some haven’t. I still miss the first one, who had the crazy dog and the chickens, and had bought a job-lot of benches from The Oval. He got me to play cricket for the pub team. I scored no runs but took a good catch. His cricket pictures are still on the walls.

This is a long time later. One of the old fogeys is there. He’s been there as long as anyone. We recognise each other but we never talk though we’ve probably talked a hundred times. For some reason he ends up at our table. We’re in the saloon bar. He’s coarse and boorish and drunk. He’s clever enough to get away with it most of the time. But not this time. He doesn’t know what he’s let himself in for.

Tim and I laugh all the way home.