Vince And Joy
“It was Jon’s idea. Jess was at yoga and it was the first Monday after the clocks went forward. Enfield Town felt vaguely exhilarated by the thrill of an extra hour of daylight. People sat outside pubs in their overcoats savouring the first tentative moments of summer. Jon and Vince went to the King’s Head by the market place and ordered pints of Heineken Export. Jon didn’t look out of place here at all, with his shaved head, his earring and his designer street wear. He could just as easily hav...e been one of these boisterous market traders, a silver-tongued purveyor of outsize nylon underwear, knock-off CDs or strawberries. He was, like Vince, an Enfield boy through and through, and, like Vince, he’d got out of Enfield at the first opportunity to sample life elsewhere. Unlike Vince, he’d made a career and a reputation, was respected throughout his chosen industry and probably had awards on his toilet wall to prove it. He’d lived in different countries, worked with different people, gathering momentum as he went.MoreLess
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