Crabber and Duckworth

Delaney has wheatears. The shamble leg man met Delaney at the crab fry-up on a sunshiny sunny August day. Delaney, bibbed and dressed in a beige serge suit with wide lapels, sat over a table of crabs cracking shells with a nutcracker he carried in a scabbard on his belt. His mouth oily with crab juice, eyes bigger than garlic bulbs. The shamble leg man espied him from a distance, as he was in no mood for pleasantries and how do you do’s. Once Delaney had you in his sights he would chatter on and on like an insufferable fool, and the shamble leg man did not suffer fools lightly. Crabber and Duckworth catered the crab fry-up. Duckworth oiled his hair with garlic butter, gathered into a cone on the back of his head. Crabber was bald, so had no use for oils and hair salves. ‘This is strangely disturbing’ said Crabber, ‘all these crabs and not a shell insight.’ ‘Don’t you mean in sight?’ asked Duckworth.