They went into the Golden Horn and approached the bar. The bartender smiled at Lew and said: “Hello, Lucy, dear, what’ll it be, vod and ton?”

The group looked at Lew in surprise.

Buzz said: “So you’re a regular here?”

Walli said: “What’s a vod and ton?”

Dave said: “Lucy?”

The barman looked nervous. “Who are your friends, Lucy?”

Lew looked at the other three and said: “You bastards, you’ve found me out.”

Buzz said: “Are you queer?”

Having been found out, Lew threw caution to the winds. “I’m as queer as a clockwork orange, a three-pound note, a purple unicorn, or a football bat. If you weren’t all blind as well as stupid you would have figured it out years ago. Yes, I kiss men and go to bed with them whenever I can without getting caught. But please don’t worry that I might make advances to you: you’re all much too fucking ugly. Now let’s have a drink.”

Dave cheered and clapped, and after a moment of shocked hesitation Buzz and Walli followed his lead.

Dave was intrigued. He knew about queers, but only in a theoretical way. He had never had a homosexual friend, as far as he knew—though most of them kept it secret, as Lew had, because what they did was a crime. Dave’s grandmother Lady Leckwith was campaigning for the law to be changed, but so far she had not succeeded.

Dave was in favor of his grandmother’s campaign, mainly because he hated the kind of people who opposed her: pompous clergymen, indignant Tories, and retired colonels. He had never really thought about the law as something that might affect his friends.

They had a second round of drinks, and a third. Dave’s money was running low, but he had high hopes. “I Miss Ya, Alicia” was going to be released in the USA. If it was a hit there the group would be made. And he would never again have to worry about spelling.

The pub filled up quickly. Most of the men had something in common: a way of walking and talking that was a bit theatrical. They called one another “lovey” and “precious.” After a while it became easy to tell who was queer and who was not. Perhaps that was why they did it. There were also a few girls in couples, most with short haircuts and trousers. Dave felt he was seeing a new world.

However, they were not exclusive, and seemed happy to share their favorite pub with heterosexual men and women. About half the people there knew Lew, and the group found themselves at the center of a conversational cluster. The queers bantered in a distinctive way that made Dave laugh. A man in a shirt similar to Lew’s said: “Ooh, Lucy, you’re wearing the same shirt as me! How nice.” Then he added in a stage whisper: “Unimaginative bitch,” and the others laughed, including Lew.

Dave was approached by a tall man who said in a low voice: “Listen, mate, do you know who could sell me some pills?”