‘That’s sausage and mash, Wentworth.’
Suddenly the idea of sausage and mash made Lily’s eyes gleam. ‘Oh, yes please! That would go down a treat.’
‘Righto. That’ll be two Zeppelins, Frank, and what have you got on for pudding tonight?’
‘Figgy duff to follow, sir, with a dollop of custard?’
Lily’s eyes lit on a cabby spooning up a richly scented pudding and she nodded.
There were two other solid figures in the shelter, steadily eating their way through a substantial serving of something brown and glutinous. They both greeted Sandilands. ‘Evenin’, Captain!’
‘You’re up late,’ said one of them through the steam from a white china cup.
‘No rest for the wicked,’ said Joe, returning the expected reply and enjoying the expected guffaw it produced. And to Lily, ‘Shall we sit over there in the corner?’
As soon as they settled, a large freckled hand descended between them and plates of sausage and mash appeared on the table.
‘Mustard with that, miss? Ketchup? Cup o’ tea?