wheel from a suitcase
lying on the station stairs.
i could do nothing
This morning, I was, as is normal for me, blearily gazing at the BBC News when I spotted the face of a friend of ours above a caption saying ‘later at 8.20’.
Thinking that, as an actor, he might have been involved in some International Thespian Scandal I set the video to tape the segment and hoied it to the bathroom. While there, I reconsidered, since his greatest acting claim of late is an appearance in The Bill where he opened a council flat door and said ‘Whatchoo want, copper? You’re not taking arr Wayne!’ in his butchest cockney.
As it turned out, the BBC were interviewing ‘the public’ about the quality of Christmas gifts and our friend whittered on for quite some time about his mother’s woolly jumpers. I was very disappointed. I was thinking he was going to confess to something along the lines of an affair with Gordon Ramsay, or at least an archbishop. He’d have been picked up by the tabloids then... and the police of course, but that’s the price of fame.