See us in overalls kicking these about.  Softs we call them, great long cigar-looking things. Eighty five pound shells they come out as. This is the day they filmed us, made it look easy, as if levers and pulleys do it, not like when one clocks you round your nut. On cranes and lathes, turners…

A great big helping of beach and sea, enough for everybody…  just. Dad’s face red as a tomato. You can spot newcomers: white arms, skinny white knees… so many clean white shirts. Our sort of people – you just have to look. Lots of pale and beige… well-groomed… No loud men… fast women. Nothinglike it,…