He continued to turn up at Euston on an unpaid, unofficial basis in order to hear the latest gossip and to offer unsought advice to his former colleagues over a pint of beer at the pub they patronised. Andrews was a short, stringy man with a fringe beard decorating a leathery face. Known for his pugnacity, he also had a softer side and it was in evidence that evening as he listened to the harpist. A small crowd had gathered around the old man as he worked his way through his repertoire. Andrews was not the only onlooker who had to hold back a tear when he heard the strains of ‘Home, Sweet Home’. He marvelled at the way that the decrepit figure could pluck such sweet melodies from his strings. Well into his seventies, the harpist wore an ancient, ragged suit and a top hat battered into concertina shape. Beside him on the ground was a cap to collect any money from his transient audiences. Curled up asleep near the cap was a mangy dog of uncertain parentage.The harpist’s musical taste was catholic, embracing everything from operatic arias to bawdy music hall songs and stretching to stirring marches more suited to a regimental brass band.
What do You think about Inspector Colbeck's Casebook (2014)?
