HE REMEMBERED how on the long straight street of the housing estate Pauline ditched him one night: "I don't want to go out with you any more. I've got a date with somebody else tomorrow." Just like that; and even though they'd been getting on each other's nerves, it was still as abrupt as if she'd prodded him with a hatpin or knitting needle.
"Go and get dive-bombed then," he raged, and walked at a quick pace down the street to catch up Albert Lomax, who had just bid good night to his girl, Dorothy.
"That was quick," Albert said. "Has she chucked you?"
"Don't be bleddy funny," Brian retorted. Then: "She has, if you want to know. Not that I'm bothered. We've been getting fed up with each other the last week or two."
"You've been having too much of it, that's what's wrong," Albert said soberly. "You've got to lay off now and again, not see owt of each other for a few weeks, then you wain't get so bored." Exactly what had been in Brian's mind, but neither he nor Pauline