A vested interest.
Heading out of the Victoria Quarter this month, I was confronted with something that for me, cast a cloud over this sun-soaked Great British Summer. Lads, stripped to the waist, swigging from bottles, a cacophony of “It’s coming home!” delivered from slurring, red faces. Decked out in my panama hat, tan leather briefcase and linen suit, the peaks of several baseball caps swivelled…