At loose ends, once again, and not wanting to cling to Pete too much, I head for the harbor. Lot’s of fun company down there. I end up at The Ship, rough crowd around here, but I don’t give a fuck. Anybody that thinks they can take me is welcome to try. Twenty years in the stunt business and there’s not a lot of tricks I haven’t seen before.

The telly over the bar is a background drone, but when I’m hoisting my third or fourth Speight’s, I hear a name that I recognise and Sandy obliges me by turning the sound up.

( Some pissed up entertainment show with some cow of a spinner going on all starry eyed . . . )