1984

           ‘Neverheardof’em,’saidthebarmanshortly. ‘Litreandhalflitre—that’sallweserve. There’stheglassesontheshelfinfrontofyou.’ 

           ‘Ilikesapint,’persistedtheoldman. ‘Youcould’adrawedmeoffapinteasyenough. Wedidn’t’avethesebleedinglitreswhenIwasayoungman.’ 

           ‘Whenyouwereayoungmanwewerealllivinginthetreetops,’saidthebarman,withaglanceattheothercustomers. 

           Therewasashoutoflaughter,andtheuneasinesscausedbyWinston’sentryseemedtodisappear. Theoldman’swhite-stubbledfacehadflushedpink. Heturnedaway,mutteringtohimself,andbumpedintoWinston. Winstoncaughthimgentlybythearm. 

           ‘MayIofferyouadrink?’hesaid. 

           ‘You’reagent,’saidtheother,straighteninghisshouldersagain. HeappearednottohavenoticedWinston’sblueoveralls. ‘Pint!’headdedaggressivelytothebarman. ‘Pintofwallop.’ 

           Thebarmanswishedtwohalf-litresofdark-brownbeerintothickglasseswhichhehadrinsedinabucketunderthecounter. Beerwastheonlydrinkyoucouldgetinprolepubs. Theprolesweresupposednottodrinkgin,thoughinpracticetheycouldgetholdofiteasilyenough. Thegameofdartswasinfullswingagain,andtheknotofmenatthebarhadbeguntalkingaboutlotterytickets. Winston’spresencewasforgottenforamoment. Therewasadealtableunderthewindowwhereheandtheoldmancouldtalkwithoutfearofbeingoverheard. Itwashorriblydangerous,butatanyratetherewasnotelescreenintheroom,apointhehadmadesureofassoonashecamein.