Chapter Two
Sloe Gin
One man’s meat is another woman’s cake.
After closing the post office, Mavis followed me home and proceeded to tuck into my sloe gin with relish. We were sitting by the Bag Lady’s campfire with Sheryl, the Bag Lady, and her greatest pal, Betty. Mavis was on a downer and seemed to think that sloe gin was the answer, while Sheryl, also tucking into the sloe gin, talked about her wedding. Sheryl was trying to cheer Mavis up, although how she thought gloating about her wedding would help I have no idea.
With a glowing face and “Steven” in every sentence, Sheryl described what we had already heard. A two-day honeymoon in a one-berth caravan. Campbell had given them the use of his caravan at the back of one of his fields and, according to “the wife,” they didn’t emerge o
