He was sitting in the Plaza, not far from the escalators, having his usual coffee and donuts when he recognised a familiar bearded figure in overalls, carrying a small stepladder, come ambling towards him. It was Ray Roberts, the electrician. Ray—or ‘Robbo’ as just about everybody called him—was the foreman in charge of all the electrical maintenance for the Plaza and had been there since the place opened about six years previous. Davo had got to know Ray when he’d worked in one of the butcher shops in the Plaza and often joined him for a few beers and a mag after they’d finished work. Robbo had worked himself into a nice easy little number in his six years at the Plaza and it showed; he was at least thirty kilos overweight and had a stomach like a walrus. His hair and eyes were pretty much like Davo’s with a constantly smiling, always stirring people face, ringed by one of those bushy Quakertype beards tinged with grey. As his physique suggested, Robbo shunned any type of physical work at all so Davo was a little surprised to see him carrying a ladder; even if it was a small one and he wasn’t walking very fast.
