Frank on the other hand belonged in a pub, propping up the bar with a whippet at his feet and a red-top paper in front of his nose. His canvas fishing vest sported an alarming number of St. George flag patches and the frown he sent Zoe’s way felt very much like disapproval. In short, he appeared to be the kind of middle-class bigot my home village was populated with. I wondered if the producers had picked him for just that reason, putting a racist on an island with a black guy and an Indian girl to create drama.
