Boyo

“Don't be daft, boyo. First chance I get, and I'm skipping!”

“Can’t get onboard the boat,” Dai finished for me. “Bloody typical, it is, boyo.”

“What brings you around, boyo?” Deane asked, offering Case a narrow bonbon wrapped in blue-and-white checked paper.

‘This, er, initiator of polonium and lithium, would it be used in an anti-personnel bomb?’ he asked. ‘Oh yes, you could say so, boyo,’ replied the Welshman.

A taff is a Welshman. Everyone in the doctors’ mess calls me taff or taffy. Mr Swain, the mortuary attendant, calls me boyo, especially during the rugby season when Wales lose badly.

“You’re crazy boyo!” Taffy gaped at his shipmate’s rosy cheeks, their hugh brightened by the Canadian blasts. “Now, what in the bloody hell were you doing out there boyo?”