The Last Bell at the Mariner's Rest
Arthur Kemp was sixty-seven years old and he had been drinking at the Mariner's Rest since 1947, the year he came home from the Merchant Navy with a steel plate in his hip and a conviction that the only water he ever wanted to see again was the water in the bottom of a pint glass. The pub stood at the corner of Cable Street and Cannon Street Road, a three-story Victorian pile of yellow London...
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