Chapter 16

Pete shot him a surprised

look.

Paul ignored Pete and

turned to Trevor. “You’ll be having your usual?”

“Please.”

“Three pints of John

Smith’s, love,” Paul said to the barmaid. At least Trevor no longer

asked for campari and soda. He was sure Trevor had only ordered

that drink a month ago to see if he could get a

reaction.

Once Paul had paid for

their drinks they made their way into the function room where the

pub’s management had set out an assortment of buffet food. Thommo

had parked himself by the top table, stuffing as many sandwiches

into his mouth as he could.

“Think we’ll beat them?”

Pete asked Thommo, gesturing with a sausage roll at the cluster of

Eastly players huddled in the far corner.

“Dunno,” Thommo said round

a mouthful of food. “Course it would have helped if you hadn’t got

that leading edge.”

Paul rolled his eyes.

Thommo could hardly complain at anyone else, given his own poor

performance at the crease. However, he chose to keep his comments