Twisting by the pool

Goodbye 1948, and a start on a very different book - the One and Only: Peter Perrett, Homme Fatale. I even put the Only Ones on my earphones and promptly fell asleep by the pool.
Revived by a swim down in the sea, there was the beach bar looking very inviting in the late afternoon sun and obviously needing a visit.
It’s a hard life. Well, it would be if I was a Spurs fan. Ouch!