' The Ragman's Serenade tells the story of four families- one from North Shields and the other three from Wallsend. It is a story of relationships- The Davis family are up to their eyes in debt - The Stewart family have a daughter who has downs syndrome– The hagarths who’s husband owns a bookmakers shop and his wife is a midwife at the RVI- and the Higginbottom's have a father with the on set of Alzheimer's. How do they cope - read this fascinating story i'm sure you will enjoy.


65. 65

“Result of the photo finish at Sheffield, trap one, trap five second, and trap three third.’

“I thought five had just pipped three there said Jeff.’

“You put the spaker’s on it no wonder I didn’t win.

Trevor threw his ticket on the floor, then wrote out another bet for the next race.

He handed it over to Norman who gave him his ticket.

The next race was coming from Belle Vue in Manchester. Trevor had chosen trap four Bobby’s banger and trap six Nathaniel.

He sat back down as others began to walk into the bookies to place bets.

Mary Fletcher approached Trevor, “any luck today Trev.’

“Aye all bad.’

“Yer haven’t got a tab yer could lend me have yer.’

No I haven’t I loaned you three last week and yer nivva giz them back.’

“Gan on divven’t be a tight arse.’

Trevor took out his backy tin and rolled a cigarette for himself then a thinner one for Mary.’

“Here and that’s your bloody last until you pay me back what you owe.’

Mary put the cigarette to her lips and waited until Trevor flicked his petrol lighter.

Then bent forward to receive a light.

“She inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs then exhaled.’ Got any good tips for this afternoon?’

“Aye divven’t back horses.’

“Come on Trev’ you always have a fancy for summock.’

 Trevor looked at his newspaper that he carried folded up into his jacket pocket with him because if you put it down in the betting shop for just a second some bugger would pick it up and be away with it. He turned to the racing pages then gave Mary a horse he was betting on its own. “Daisy Chain in the 2-30 at Cheltenham.’

“Its 7/1 get a pound win on it.’

“Thanks Trev.’ Mary wrote out the bet then went to the counter and placed her bet on.

“She normally took five cross doubles but went on Trevor’s hot tip. She knew he was pretty good at sniffing out a good winner. He was in there every day bar a Sunday when the bookies were closed by law. He went to his sister Maureen’s for his Sunday dinner. Trevor’ was a Batchelor he’d never been married and never wanted to. He was now fifty years old and retired from the army where he joined up with the Royal Fusiliers. He travelled all over the world, serving in Egypt, Malta, Gibraltar, and in Hong Kong. He was a Colonel and had a good pension which kept him pretty well off. He still kept his moustache neatly trimmed. He didn’t have a grey hair on his head, not that you would notice with his blond locks. He looked after his appearance meticulously. Every fortnight he went to the barber to have his hair trimmed and his clothes were immaculate; his shoes were highly polished; so much so that you could see your face in them. He always had a clean and well ironed shirt and tie on and his jacket on. The tiepin he wore was of his regiment. He went to the cenotaph in London every year and wore all of his medals from the Second World War again they were polished. Trevor was well respected by most of the people of his generation who all knew him. His Sister Kate adored him and so did mark and Jack his two nephews.

Trevor still got up at 5.30 every morning and did a five mile run; he kept himself in good shape and looked ten years younger than he actually was.

Trevor was a handsome man. He only mixed with his own mates from the army at the ex-service men’s club. Trevor was not a big drinker either but he liked a glass of 

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