...so he bought a round and sat with them, enjoying a very nice brandy. Several boys had come in to say goodnight. ‘I’ve counted 36...sometimes… I need you to leave me alone.’ ‘I try,’ Peter says truthfully. ‘I really do.’ ‘I know.’ And Carl does know. He knows ...Right.’ ‘Less fighting, more fucking.’ ‘Wasn’t that a Beatles lyric?’ ‘Probably.’ Peter’s hands drift lazily over to Carl, splash water on...