20 JANUARY 1990, Page 30

Regulars

The six o'clock punter bumlaps a stool, widower-bashes the barman's ear, steps down to mess with a fruit machine.

A knight in neat armour appeals to history. Snowdrop lamps decide it's spring.

The barmaid leaves her catwalk, trips for empties.

Three liberated housewives discuss nappies. An elderly pair grizzle over food prices.

Someone expostulates: 'They sent me bloody Brahms!'

The half-moon of lemon sinks in my glass.

I think of waterfall-shaggy Shetlands on the fells and the chink between barn door and arch

Geoffrey Holloway