Sharon told me once that the best sex she’d ever had was with Tom in the town public conveniences, bathed in that mauve light some town councils install to inconvenience junkies. Which was typical of Sharon’s unsnobbishness and of Tom’s work ethic.
I’d met Tom through Sharon. In a list of boyfriends that year that would have taken as long to read aloud as the football results, Tom came after me and I came after Trevor.
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