Sausage saga

Opinion behind the counter in the busy, family-run Silver Grill fish and chip shop was sharply divided. The grieving Leicester City supporter who ran the place thought that Portsmouth had every chance of pulling it off. In the betting shop next door they were offering 33–1 on Pompey winning 1–0, he said, riddling the chip cage. Ridiculous odds. They are an experienced team and they won’t mind mixing it. If they rise to the occasion, Chelsea won’t have things all their own way, you mark my words, he said.

But his nephew — baseball cap, beard and his arms so densely tattooed that at first glance it looks as if he’s wearing a purple and black cardigan — rolled his eyes at his uncle’s romanticism. His job is to batter and fry the fish and that’s all. He executes his trips between fridge and fryer with such perfect economy that he is able to devote a significant amount of his time to leaning on the counter and studying the tabloid sports pages.