Thud!

said Colon magisterially. “She does the cleaning in there. And it appears that when she come in at eight o’clock in the morning ae-em, with no one else about, Nobby, well, I hardly like to say this, but it appears she took it into her head to have a twirl on the pole.”
    They shared a moment of silence as Nobby ran this image in the cinema of his imagination and hastily consigned much of it to the cutting-room floor.
    “But she must be seventy-five, Sarge!” he said, staring at nothing in fascinated horror.
    “A girl can dream, Nobby, a girl can dream. O’course, she forgot she wasn’t as limber as she used to be, plus she got her foot caught in her long drawers and panicked when her dress fell over her head. She was in a bad way when the manager came in, having been upside down for three hours, with her false teeth fallen out on the floor. Wouldn’t let go of the pole, too. Not a pretty sight, I trust I do not have to draw you a picture. Come the finish, Precious Jolson had to rip the pole out top and bottom and we slid her off. That girl’s got the muscles of a troll, Nobby, I’ll swear it. And then, Nobby, when we was bringing her ’round behind the scenes, this young lady wearing two sequins and a bootlace comes up and says she’s a friend of yours! I did not know where to put my face!”
    “You’re not supposed to put it anywhere, Sarge. They throw you out for that sort of thing,” observed Nobby.
    “You never told me she was a pole dancer, Nobby!” Fred wailed.
    “Don’t say it like that, Sarge.” Nobby sounded a little hurt. “This is modern times. And she’s got class, Tawneee has. She even brings her own pole. No hanky-panky.”
    “But, I mean…showin’ her body off in lewd ways, Nobby! Dancing around without her vest and practic’ly no drawers on. Is that any way to behave?”
    Nobby considered this deep metaphysical question from various angles.
    “Er…yes?” he ventured.
    “Anyway, I thought you were still walking out with Verity Pushpram? That’s a handy little seafood stall she runs,” Colon said, sounding as though he was pleading a case.
    “Oh, Hammerhead’s a nice girl if you catch her on a good day, Sarge,” Nobby conceded.
    “You mean those days when she doesn’t tell you to bugger off and chases you down the street throwing crabs at you?”
    “Exactly those days, Sarge. But good or bad, you can never get rid of the smell of fish. And her eyes are too far apart. I mean, it’s hard to get a relationship goin’ with a girl who can’t see you if you stand right in front of her.”
    “I shouldn’t think Tawneee can see you if you’re up close, either!” Colon burst out. “She’s nearly six feet tall and she’s got a bosom like…well, she’s a big girl, Nobby.” Fred Colon was at a loss. Nobby Nobbs and a dancer with big hair, a big smile, and…general bigitigy? Look upon this picture, and on this! It did your head in, it really did.
    He struggled on. “She told me, Nobby, that she’d been Miss May on the centerfold of Girls, Giggles and Garters ! Well, I mean…!”
    “ What do you mean, Sarge? Anyway, she wasn’t just Miss May, she was the first week in June as well,” Nobby pointed out. “It was the only way they had room.”
    “Err…well, I ask you,” Fred floundered, “is a girl who displays her body for money the kind of wife for a copper? Ask yourself that!”
    For the second time in five minutes, what passed for Nobby’s face wrinkled up in deep thought.
    “Is this a trick question, Sarge?” he said at last. “’Cos I know for a fact that Haddock has got that picture pinned up in his locker and every time he opens it he goes, ‘Pwaor, will you look at th—’ ”
    “How did you meet her, anyway?” said Colon quickly.
    “What? Oh, our eyes met when I shoved an IOU in her garter, Sarge,” said Nobby happily.
    “And…she hadn’t just been hit on the head, or something?”
    “I don’t think so, Sarge.”
    “She’s not…ill, is she?” said Fred Colon, exploring every likelihood.
    “No, Sarge!”
    “Are you sure ?”
    “She says perhaps we’re two halves of the same soul, Sarge,” said Nobby dreamily.
    Colon stopped with one foot raised above the pavement. He stared at nothing, his lips moving.
    “Sarge?” said Nobby, puzzled by this.
    “Yeah…yeah,” said Colon, more or less to himself. “Yeah. I can see that. Not the same stuff in each half, obviously. Sort of…sieved…”
    The foot landed.
    “I