Not a great start to the day

You're no longer upset, you're just plain angry as you slam around your room, searching your wardrobe and chest of drawers for something to wear, something practical for cleaning in but you don't want to look too out of place at uni as you'll have to rush straight there from cleaning the pub. You settle on your usual black leggings, with a close fitting strappy top and a loose sweater over the top.

The pub is nearby and you are soon there, aiming to give yourself as much time as possible. It's not the first time you've had to help your mum out like this and you know to add an hour or two onto whatever time estimate she gives you.

The Woolpack is a 1960s prefabricated, flat roofed pub that sits in the middle of the housing estate along Park Road. It looks small compared to the blocks of flats that surround it, but you know that inside is way bigger than it looks. You've spent many an unhappy afternoon and evening here as a child, bored out of your skull, whatching your mum get pissed with her latest boy friend. With a sigh you unlock the door and head inside.