Chapter Four: BertDreaming…
Albert Spiers, known to his friends as Bert (or Burrt, as Mr Rooster often pronounced it, stretching out the single vowel of his name) sat on the old wall, legs dangling, listening to the sound of the river, throwing tiny stones into one of the nearby puddles created by the recent downpour. The rain turned everything grey, including the wall upon which he sat. It was a crumbling wall, all that was left of a once popular and thriving gin-palace. Not so very long ago, Bert would linger outside, offering to help the drunks on their way whilst dipping their pockets with his expert hands. But then the fire burned the place to the ground, putting his lucrative sideline to rest. Still, the memories were good and he would often, as now, sit on the wall and reflect.
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