The hand was pulled back and she felt a sudden draught as her skirtswayed a little in the crowd. Nice while it lasted she thought, but fartoo short to...be sweet. The crowd was still not moving and try as shemight she could not turn her neck enough to see who her companion hadbeen. Ah well, there is always alcohol, she though, though in truth, she didnot seem to be any closer to being served than the twenty minutes agothis fruitless exercise had begun. Now, to add to the misery, peoplebehind were. The restaurant where we shared our first meal, the toilets of that restaurant where you surprised me, pushing me back into the cubicle and fucking me slowly and sensuously, with your hand over my mouth my muffle my moans. That park bench, where we both vocalised those three words for the first time, saying what we both knew in our hearts to be true. And like all relationships we had our ups and downs. That horrible night when we had our first fight and I stormed out. Walking the streets for. Lucy laughed and applauded Gus' victory. The next contest was to be push-ups, who could do the most in a minute. Gus won the toss and went first. The whistle was blown, and he set off at rocket speed and didn't slow down much, Lucy had difficulty keeping count, but she reckoned that he managed 97 in the minute. Then it was my turn. The whistle blew, I had managed about 25 after 30 seconds but was really tired and was struggling to push myself up for 26, I collapsed to the floor with Gus'. Before I was even born that was." Country's gone to the fucking dogs," said an equally old woman who had no teeth and wore ragged clothes that were several sizes too large and hung off her spindly frame. "Britain used to be Great. It's not Great anymore." It's not even called Britain anymore if you haven't been paying attention," said another man whose sagging skin was evidence that he'd once been plump or even obese. He now resembled a deflated balloon. "When's the soup coming?" It'll be here.