I tried to be cool, but the man with the burnt face caught me looking.
‘Alright matey,’ he said.
We shook hands. I pulled away and found myself holding his ear.
He grinned. ‘Gotchya!’
It was prosthetic, believable, to cover an acquired absence.
‘Truth or lie,’ he said. ‘An accident- or– I took a petrol bath and lit a ciggy?’
‘An accident,’ I said.
‘I’m a bad boy you see. A bit mad. And she wouldn’t let me see the kids.’
‘You want a drink pal?’
I offered the man his ear. ‘No. Thank you.’