The
living room, Dug couldn’t help but notice, had recently been decorated in
yellow plush and turquoise velour. It reminded him of the flat he’d had in the
summer, although the effect was more Turkish Brothel than Greek Bedsit. ‘Nice,
eh...’ he said, indicating the walls and everything else.
Stark
had a Jammy Dodger poised in front of his mouth. He started to tremble
slightly. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘It was a wedding present from my mother.’
The
curtains were royal blue crushed velvet.
‘The
Textile Discount Depository?’ Dug ventured.
‘Aye,’ said Stark. He
looked at the biscuit and tossed it into the bin next to the sofa. ‘She got a
deal on everything garish over nineteen ounces the square yard.’
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