‘Where’s the little ginger kid without a dad? Mr Janner wants him…’

‘John Gater walked by the working men’s club in Humberstone Gate one morning a few weeks ago, writes Lee Marlow.

He didn’t go in. “I wouldn’t ever go in,” he says. He hasn’t set foot in a working men’s club for nearly 40 years.

But the doors were open and he could smell it. That signature bouquet of beer and polish.

The smell stopped him in his stride. It took him back, to a place in his memory he doesn’t like to see – the lounge at Gypsy Lane Working Men’s Club.’

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