Gary got out, found the beach, had a ball. Then it all deteriorated. He found himself on the wrong side of normal people’s rules. Wrong people at the wrong time and back in jail. Petty infringements of prison rules kept him there for too many years, he’d rather not count them. 


Legend has it, Percy entered and sat down in the bomb shelter. One of those tube stations doubling up as a place of asylum. Legend doesn’t say how long or how often he was down there.  On the night in question Percy swapped places with his sister who was feeling unwell. When the bomb hit Percy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.


Neal was a family friend. Or at least he lived nearby and frequented some of the same places. He was living in this big, threatening, old fashioned kind of place. They used to call them hospitals. But not many people seemed to be getting better. Neal drifted in and out until eventually he found himself in another of these so-called hospitals, in another place.  At this point, or at some point, he couldn’t bear it any longer, took advantage of those tall imperious buildings and jumped. 


Leila was an aunt and a sister. She loved the church, mince pies and lemonade. 


Geoff died alone in a bright red bedroom.  The record player in his room was stuck at the end of a side of music, gently and repetitively scratching backwards and forwards. His family, being elsewhere at the time, returned, rescued the record and grieved for the solitude and the music not heard. 

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