And that's how Tom Jones, better known as Sam's Son, on account of Sam Jones being better known in the Holy Land than his son, met Delilah again: and this is how it happened, and if you don't believe me, it's all in the Bible, and if you don't believe the Bible, just ask Blind Harry and he'll confirm it: as he went round a corner to get away from the crowd – not that he's any more an ochlophobic than anyone else from Ponty, but he was still feeling nervous about bumping into one of Goliath's bigger brothers, having heard some talk about them being on the lookout for whoever slew him – when Sam's Son suddenly bumped into Delilah coming the other way and Tom dropped his loaf of bread and Delilah sat down with a bump; well, after Tom helped her up she said: "you don't remember me, do you?" and he said: "yes I do, you sold me a rotten chocolate milkshake not an hour ago," and she said: "but you really don't remember me, do you?" and he asked what she meant and she said: "Dai Morgan Chippie," and he asked her what she meant and she said: "you remember Dai Morgan Chippie?" and he said: "of course I do, best fish and chips in Pontypridd, what about it?" and she said, "well, then, look you, do you remember me?" and he thought for a minute, then said: "you're the lass works there on Friday and Saturday nights? am I right?" and she said: "got it in three! Delilah Pew, from Overbentwilly Street," and he said: "well, what a coincidence, would you like a drink? is there a decent pub here, where no-one will steal my loaf of bread – my Da sent me out for one and I'll have to get back before he's forgotten what I look like!" and she said: "my cousin, Rachel Thomas, she's married to this chap from Tiger Bay who's got a little Taverna round the corner, does a decent pint of mild and bitter, and distils his own poteen, it's not Scotch or Irish, but it's passable if that's possible here, they don't know the difference – oh, and she makes a lovely cheesecake with a Halva base!" and Sam's son put his arm around her, the free one, for he had his loaf of bread tucked safely in the other, and said: "lead the way, Delilah Pew, and tell me, have you started them on fish and chips?" and Delilah said: "once I've perfected the batter I'm going to open my own chippie, there's no competition here and I know it would go a bomb after a football match" at which Tom stared intently at her: "have they got a decent league here?" but she shook her head: "the Samaritans and Philistines have the best teams, the Israelites are hampered by having their Sabbath on Saturdays and the others won't play on Sundays, there's something distinctly prehistoric about this place – oh, I know it's BC and that makes it worse than just not being PC, but you'd think Football would be a bit more important than Religion, I mean, even in Wales the churches know that a working man needs his ninety minutes on the terraces on a Saturday afternoon, unless he's a Rugger Bugger, but try telling that to the High Priests, there's one in particular, name of Zadok, and he's a bit of a Holy Willie, always banging on about Fire and Brimstone and caterwauling about Hell and Damnation and threatening people with all kinds of Pestilences if they go to a match on Saturday instead of to prayers at the Synagogue; I mean, Solly and his boys always went to home matches in Ponty and you'd think that now he's King here he could use his influence to show Zadok the error of his ways and stop his yellowing," and Sam's son reminded Delilah that back home, Solly had been a Communist councillor so going to the Synagogue hadn't been one of his priorities," and she retaliated by saying: "yes, but he always sent one of his lads to run the book at the races while he and the others were at Ynysybwl matches; there is always Rugby I suppose, though I don't know but that might be a bit too rough for the Samaritans, they're all goody-two-shoes and keep yelling at the ref if one of their boys doesn't get a penalty when he's lost the ball in a fair and square tackle – they’re a bunch of sissies if you ask me, but at least they are happy to play on Saturday afternoons which, when you come to think about it, were really only invented for the purpose of having one day a week when everybody wants to go to a game – and it has to be proper football, I know some of the folk here think I'm a bit twisted, cause I don't particularly like rugby, but to be honest, most of the rugby players I've ever seen are only in it for all that intimate male bonding in the scrum and the big shared bath at the end of a match; no wonder they don't let anyone else into the bathroom while they're all floating about, arms round each other and singing their favourite Barry Manilow songs!" and she stopped suddenly, which almost dislodged Tom's loaf of bread and she was pointing excitedly at a shoemaker's stall, with a big sign above it: Souter of Selkirk, Shoemakers to Gods and Goddesses from Heaven to High Water and Delilah was pointing at a pair of sandals with little wings and she said: "don't you think they would suit my feet, and the talaria are very practical, they stop your feet from getting dusty and calloused from walking about on the sand," but without waiting for an answer, she asked the shoemaker if he had size 4 in pink, and, being a dour Scot from Selkirk in the Borders, a town where every other tradesman is a souter, which was why he was hoping to open up a new market in this land of Milk and Honey, he replied "ah, weel, mebbe a hae but then agin mebbe ah dinnae, ah'll needs must measure yer feet an measurement costs tuppence, but if ye buy a pair, the tuppence is deducted," so Delilah turned to Tom, "only tuppence, and that's taken off the price of the shoes, can you give me tuppence, Tom?" and against his better judgement Tom handed over two little coins which she passed to the man, who included Tom in his invitation to "come awa inside an hae a seat, whiles ah get ma tape-measure," and the Son of Sam wondered how much this was going to cost him!