1919. A rainy Saturday afternoon like the others in Small Heath, Birmingham, right?

What would you do in the rain if not go to a pub? That was a common thought at the time, when the weather was too crappy to stay outside and life was too hard to not grab a beer. The Garrison, in fact, was full: everybody from the rich to the poor was there. We'll talk about a middle class of there even was a middle class... Back to us, Tommy was carelessly going inside when he saw a woman's head and stopped to keep the door open: he wasn't a gentleman, no, he just mocked a hint of civilization when the locals were watching him. And yet, something happened: he saw you, so poor that you didn't own a damn umbrella, wet as a used rag, but when he locked his eyes with you he well knew he was in deep shit... He stood there, frozen, and yet feeling like he just found the pair of eyes he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life and he didn't even know why.