Dimitri felt at home here, accepted. He was not the best of players, but neither was he the worst. He felt comfortable – hidden -here in the middle of the city, under the spreading figs with their roots riddling the pathways and their canopy killing all but the softest of winter grass in the hard-packed earth.
Whether watching from the benches, or pacing the massive chequerboard littered with fetid fruit, he felt comfortable, unlike at Railway Parade. That woman he married and his own mother - in cahoots to bring him undone -this time over how he dressed. How he dressed! How are you supposed to dress when you test the axle strength of bogies all day, week in, week out. He was content being a labourer, working in king-gees that grew grottier as the week progressed.
Leon moved his queen to take the pawn in front of Dimitri’s king’s bishop.