Barry Lowe

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He was having problems with bedroom traffic – until they put a hump in the road.

Ross is used to waking on a weekend with his mouth as fetid as a used jockstrap, his head pounding from booze and drugs, and his bed shared with a stranger whose name he can’t remember. Until, that is, one Saturday morning when no amount of aspirin will relieve the hammering in his brain. It’s coming from outside his inner city terrace and when he goes to investigate he falls head over tit into a newly dug trench outside his front door. Not only that, he’s ready to fall head over tit in love with the big macho road digger who helps him out of his predicament.