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‘Fuck that. God’s bollocks, Loveday. I’m with you and the men. But that’s where it ends. As far as I know, we’ve been fighting the French. Fuck ’em. I don’t give two fucks on a Friday about the French. But I don’t care about your King Edward either, or his cunt of a son, or his weird-looking queen with her chubby cheeks and that stupid lip on her, like a fucking beak.’
‘Fucking delicious,’ he said. ‘Say what you like about the French, but the bastards don’t fuck around when it comes to vittles.’
