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“Dearest Brenda, it’s Friday night and none of the lads have gone out. Instead we’ve gotta hideaway in this hut again, making meals out of tins. Barry went to the local German supermarket today, he got most things, except toilet rolls...
I still can’t believe they’re panic buying them, Oz has turned to panic buying beer, his locker is full of it and a couple of porn films. I’m getting tired of listening to Wayne using his hairdryer, I tell you Brenda he must wash his hair 3 times a day!....
Barry has decided to give his motorbike a full service, so his part of the hut is covered with springs and stuff and it stinks of oil, makes a change from Vicks Moxey I suppose. God I miss you Brenda...
Dennis sends his love, I think he’s really missing the bairns you know. Working keeps your mind busy, but being locked up in this hut, you’ve got time to think....
Do you remember Bomber? I told you about him the time his daughter went missing and ended up here in Düsseldorf. His ankle is giving him gyp, probably from the time Oz lowered those bricks on his foot....
Well, there’s not much room for anything else, except to say I love you. Yours ‘til the next point of interest, Nev x x x
PS. Did you pick any tiles for the bathroom yet?
