Friday night started with the usual tales of previous exploits.
Vince was bursting. “You’ll never guess who he was,” he said. “Works in television: fantastic! He lists all the programmes he’s worked on and I’m thinking: Oh my God! And then when he tells me his name, it’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven. You’ll never guess what series he wrote a book for.”
“Star Trek?” Phil deadpanned.
“Fuck off,” Vince retorted. “We talked loads, and he’s writing this new series. Set on Canal Street. Based on us. But after that comment, I’ll ask him to kill you off…”