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This time, instead of gasping and glugging, Eliza woke clasping her mid-section. What in Heaven's na--- oh, Good Lord.
Anyone in the vicinity of Covent Garden Flow(e)rs this morning might very well witness an upper window sash thrown open, through which a pretty but irritated face soon emerged, followed by a fist being shaken at the sky. "BLOODY HELL, why is it always dead tarts with you?"
[Estaaaaaablishy!]
Anyone in the vicinity of Covent Garden Flow(e)rs this morning might very well witness an upper window sash thrown open, through which a pretty but irritated face soon emerged, followed by a fist being shaken at the sky. "BLOODY HELL, why is it always dead tarts with you?"
[Estaaaaaablishy!]
