Butterflies

There are white butterflies dancing about outside my window. I can't tell the difference but I  understand they are trying to find a mate. Unlike in my young days (at the time of the Suez crisis and the Korean war), the females seem to be just as frantic as the males. Of course, then it was the young ladies who looked like butterflies, our uniform was grey flannels and a nice tie, not too gawdy, but colourful. At the Palais, a drink meant orange juice, or Appletiser and if you'd had a dram to give you Dutch courage, you smelled of peppermints and the young ladies knew why. I tried to create the atmosphere in Sadie's Boy but only managed a sniff of the perfume.

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