THE silly bugger must have come in for a warm. Had she been flogging papers outside?
I was alarmed by the old woman pulling such a funny face but really didn't want to pay her so much attention.
It was my first day on The Meltham Comet after all.
ALISON couldn’t believe it. She was just through the door and already a stocky woman with a sleek red bob was talking about “a different sort of stiff.”
Muriel, the sex toys saleswoman, was recounting how she was going to retrain as an undertaker. Six of Alison’s friends were creased up laughing like they’d never heard anything so rib tickling.
“’Ere, your customers'll still have more life in ‘em than my Steve,” screeched Sam, like a latter day Hilda Baker, three sheets to the wind.
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