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33 For almost an hour Tracie called her mother to no avail, each attempt adding a little more stress to her already wrought system. She sipped water continuously with each attempt and each time the dial-tone returned, the sickening weight in her stomach seemed to grow heavier. Eventually, she handed the phone back to the bartender, gnawing at her lower lip. “Nothing,” she muttered. "Well, it's fairly late Trace, she's probably in bed. The old sleep like logs," he said. Although his input had meant to be reassuring, the idea instead of her mother sleeping like a log didn't put her at ease at all. The pub was mainly empty now save for a few blokes who were standing around outside, yarning. The bartender had supposed that he would step out there sometime soon and announce last drinks- afte
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