They hadn’t been out long when they realised they stood out like fairies in a farmyard. Hair bouncy and flicked like Farrah Fawcett’s; maxi dresses. They’d gone over to Broadstairs on the bus, light-headed and giggling after two glasses of Martini. They’d had a smoke already – Neil had rolled two when they were there – which they’d shared over the heads of the kids in the living room. He was full of himself as being the good dad, ‘letting’ Laurie out whilst he minded the kids. But Spurs were on, and two beers and an eighth of Moroccan were all it took to keep him happy.

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