I had to “shuv awf”
When I lived in King Street I worked for Waters in Church Street. They were a newsagent I did a paper round for, before starting at Simmonds. My paper round for Waters extended on Sunday mornings right out to Regency Square by the West Pier where all the rich people lived. I always had to take a few extra papers to sell in Regency Square itself. My instructions were to shout “Paper, all the papers”, which usually worked quite well. But one Sunday morning a big news-seller came up from the seafront complaining that I was queering his pitch. In no uncertain manner he threatened me with a “shuv awf’, which I did very rapidly.
A character from Dickens
The owner of the newsagents, Mr Waters, was a gentle character, dressed like someone out of Charles Dickens, he was well under the strong influence of his wife. She was an apparition with her hair always a mass of set curls and a line of perfect little curls across her forehead, like a row of curtain hooks. Her lips were gashed with bright red lipstick and, false teeth constantly clacking, she filled us with consternation. When I returned from the war, Mr Waters’ wife had died, and he seemed so lonely. One day he asked me to go for a drink, but I declined. He too died not long after and I bitterly regretted not going for that beer with the old boy.