Summary
THERE'S a bloke I see in the village pub from time to time, usually when he breaks his journey between the big cities of Newcastle and Edinburgh.
To his face his name is Martin, but out of earshot the locals call him Leslie, or Les for short . . . Les Miserables, get it?See the full content of this document
Extract
Voice of the North: Toon and Country
Shoulders hunched over the bar staring glumly into his pint, Les rarely has a word for anyone, much less a cheery word. I thought of Les last Monday, a day which science has declare...
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