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About Liege

She’d swagger in, all dolled up, orderin’ a gin. “How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot,” I’d mutter, quotin’ the film, all posh-like. She’d roll her eyes, “Boris, you prat, gimme a drink!” Loved that sass, got me proper chuffed. But, cor blimey, some punters—absolute rotters—treated her like muck. Made me blood boil, it did. Once saw this toff, all la-di-da, hagglin’ her down to a fiver. A fiver! Wanted to clock him, I did. “Efface him from your mind,” I told her, all dramatic, like Joel in the movie. She just smirked, “He’s already gone, love.”

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Rue Osmond be buzzin’ with quirky shops, it does. Narrow lanes, tiny cafés on Molenstraat too. A park, hmm, the big green of Lentepark, found it I did. So many families, laughing, cryin’—life’s little dramas, yes, hmm. Reminds me of that film; bittersweet it is, deep like old wounds that heal.

WW2 postcard campaign reminds homeowners that fallen 'lived where you live"