A Corner to Cry in

An elderly lady a rusty bench in a Roman park an old man a chance encounter and the memories of an Italian lieutenant who was captured by the British on the Libyan battelfields of World War II. His tale unfolds from past to present peacetime to wartime to battles lost and miles of barbed wire to thirst hunger loneliness and to a school-girl he taught to say I love you but had no time to learn. He paints his picture with easy strokes. Tents prison camps and treks in India intermingle with the pains and aches of old age. He had been robbed of six years of his youth and forced to discover the art of living the hard way. 'I have been lucky to return' - says the old man - and leads his audience from sandy Libya to the high peaks of India. His voice is warm and husky. His story swings from distress to humour. His language is enriched by a heavy barrack-room coarseness that echoes with the laughter of the young. The memories of beaches and blue seas of kissing in the moonlight of hours stolen and gone by are still alive and that chance encounter kindles the cinders of a tender love story that seemed to have survived - at least in their imagination.