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We haggle—$50, no $60—ugh, I’m pissed! “Ain’t you a peach?” I snap, sarcastic as hell. She smirks, “Cash up front, princess.” Princess! Me! Ha! I’m laughin now, handin over crumpled bills, feelin like a damn fool. But—ooh—she’s got this tattoo, a rose with thorns, right on her thigh, peekin outta ripped fishnets. Kinda hot, I ain’t gonna lie! Made me happy, like, “Ooh, somethin pretty in this shitshow!”

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But then, out of nowhere, this old lady comes up to me. She’s got this wild hair and a big smile. “You look like you need a cuppa!” she says. I’m like, “You read my mind!” So, she drags me to this little tea shop on the corner of Billinge Road. It’s cozy, and the tea is divine. We chat about everything—her cats, my job, the weather. She’s a hoot!

Harry Billinge: Cornwall D-Day veteran dies aged 96