"Well," she said, leaning into him in an attempt to muffle the conversation from undercover Major-Generals or informers, "I can't speak for myself, because as far as I'm concerned the story the government's tellin' is true. My husband was an ÉRA member, and as far 'as I know he died with the rest of 'em.
But..." she went on, lowering her voice, "I do know that after Collie blew half of New Beaconsfield to hell I couldn't sleep one night due to commotion outside. I looked out the window and saw some of Crofts' goosesteppin' hooligans loading a long line of men into buses. No women, no kids, just the men.
I can't tell you what happened anywhere else, but that's what I saw."
She finished up her story with a gulp of beer. Depending on who, if anyone, was listing, that could be the last beer she would ever had, and if that was case she was going to enjoy it.
