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THE SOUTHAMPTON HUNDREDS

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We are standing at the bus stop, dad and I. Between us on the ground is a battered and ancient trunk. God only knows where it came from. Some bloke at the pub? Someone’s attic. It’s brown, with wooden ridges across it that may once have had leather on them. In it are all my worldly goods, such as they are. I am off to Victoria Station to get the coach to Southampton to start at university. How am I going to get this thing on and off the bus, on and off the train and on and off another?