Lounging back against the vibrantly coloured silk cushions inside her caravan, Sheila Hannigan sucked deeply on a filtered cigarette. It was her fifth one that morning but she didn"t care as there was nobody around to reprimand her and no glaring eyes to shoot disapproving looks. She toyed with the idea of getting up to make a cup of tea, but couldn"t be bothered, and instead reached for the red wine that lay within her grasp on a narrow shelf. There were no glasses close to hand, so Sheila swigged the liquid down straight from the neck of the bottle, closing her eyes as she did so and letting the alcohol hit the back of her throat.
“Feck!” the woman shouted, as the caravan jolted, causing her to spill wine down her chin and on to her frilly white blouse, “Fecking Hell!”
Replacing the bo
