John and Bazzer had been banging on for the last hour. Now they’d begun singing too. That twisted, drunk, out of tune singing. Everyone swaying down the street. You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling with the singing out and the reply bit and all. Only Bazzer, as always, was just getting the reply bit wrong and more shrieking than singing. Now Paul wanted a quiet word in my ear, man to man.

Taking me to one side all official like. Big brotherly, arm around shoulder, pint glass in hand, half full, half empty, twice pissed.

“Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark,” he paused for effect to let the profound nature of what he’d just said sink in and looked at me deeply. His left eye was going left and his right eye going right so when he looked at me