On the eight hour journey (god blast engineering works on Sundays) from Cornwall to Home, we were joined at Newton Abbot by an interesting pair.
I didn’t see them at first, what alerted me to their presence was smell. Smell that wafted back from their table to ours like an evil Bisto wisp, an acrid mixture of human sweat and stale booze.
I looked up to check out who was generating this stink. The guy was standing up having some kind of discussion with the person he was intending to sit next to. Ah oh.
He had curly grey/white hair and a mottled red face arranged around the centre piece of a huge nose. I have never seen such big pores. They weren’t part of his skin, they were facial features in their own right, black craters in the surface of the red moon nose.
He had a dog; a waggy tailed Labrador, friendly like only Labs can be. The dog was clean, slobber mouthed and though his right eye worked perfectly, his left eye was minus one eyeball. He looked like he had been caught flirting by a spiteful cat fairy who had his eye sewed into a monstrous wink.
A little girl of about eight years old, sitting opposite me asked the man what had happened to Freddie (at this point we knew his name) He said, ‘He didn’t look both ways when he was crossing the road and a car took his eye out.’ Even the little girl looked a bit sceptical at this explanation.
I wonder what really happened?