In his pin-striped suit, Alistair Drearie pictured blue-mango Trinidad while stomping past the orange-cream dream building that housed Lloyds of London.
»And has for the last... oh I don't know, three hundred years?«
Vidalia's historical sense has never been very good. But Alistair doesn't care; she's got flair; yeah yeah yeah.
Sometimes, in London, words get the better of you.