Chapter Nine
Lemsip
A cold shared is a cold doubled.
When the panto rebellion happened, Agnus didn’t notice; she had no interest. She was in the midst of a cold and dealing with her own Lemsip crisis, lamenting the loss of Lesley’s magic touch.
“Lesley knew what to do,” she sighed. “Now I must make do—do it all myself.”
“It’s only pouring from a kettle,” said Deirdre. She caught Agnus’s look. “And opening a sachet.”
Agnus huffed, coughed, and took her Lemsip to bed with as much interest in the rebellion as life itself. Agnus had been offered the fairy godmother role and a chance to do a dance with the deck chairs that, to quote Charlie, “would steal the show.” She didn’t even look at the script; instead, she tossed it aside, spluttering “I’ll think about it,” and with a dramatic coug
