"The eldest son of my sister Edie in Yorkshire is coming to stay with us in a couple o' day's time, Ronnie. I want you to be a bit outgoing with him. He's never been to Wales before. He likes a game of snooker, so have a day off work and take him to that place where you spend all that money I could well do with," Mam instructed.

"What's he like, Mam?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him for years. He's about thirty. I'm told he likes a drink, and plays snooker.  He's having a bit of woman trouble at the moment, so he's coming down alone."

A few days later he turned up. First impressions were that he was bent on enjoying himself more than visiting his Welsh relatives.  He was brimming with health, confidence and enthusiasm.

"How about a snooker hall? Have you got one in Caerphilly, Ron?" he asked over breakfast.

"Why?  Do you fancy a knock-about then?"

"Not working today then, Ron?"

"No."

"Right!  Show me where it is," he said smiling and getting up.

 We arrived there early. The hall was empty except for May, the old lady who looked after the place. She was behind the counter in the corner, gluing on new cue tips. We quickly cleared a few frames. Yorky is sharp, I thought.

Woodbine, the first of the regulars appeared. He was the official scoreboard marker, dishevelled, with a customary fag in his mouth. He glanced over, mumbled something, and then shouted to May at the other end of the hall.

"Tea, May!  And something with it, before I choke to death."

"Who the hell is he?"  Yorky asked, nodding in his direction.

In fact, every time one of the characters appeared, Yorky asked  'Who's he?'

- 56 -