They say that it never rains but it pours and that troubles are like buses – they all turn up at once. They say a lot of things, though. And most of what they say is about as much use as a c****m in a convent.
For example, they also say that lightning never strikes twice. Which is a pretty clear indication, to my mind, that ‘they’ had never encountered Lightning Jones.
Lightning was very tall, very beautiful and very loud. Very, very loud. Her voice boomed around the room and her laugh had such timbre and volume that she could have started an avalanche if she were near a mountain.
As it was, we were in Harry Shand’s Bar. Earlier that day, I’d had a phone call from my old school friend, Barry Blue. Barry was working at Shand’s tonight and he had a job for me. I jumped at the chance. I’d
