Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Carry Out
A friend in need is just a chancer
After Imogen’s sermon, I went to the book shop. I felt sick and lethargic in a sort of low key way. I plonked myself onto the couch.
I had been working at the shop every day since Rodger’s accident and I had come to enjoy it. The place was starting to feel like mine, especially once all the shed posters were gone. And it grieved me to think about losing it.
I had spent the day serving customers in the morning and listening to the Bag Lady and Betty in the afternoon, occasionally flicking through a self-help book. Betty had become a regular visitor not only to the tee pee, but also outside the shop, where she sat on a stool during the Bag Lady’s many coffee breaks.
The Bag Lady often retreated into a world of her ow
