“One more for the road?” asked Keith necking the last warm remnants of bitter from the glass.
Alec
shook his head. “’Fraid not. Martha will literally have my guts for garters if I’m late back again.”
“C’mon,
she’ll understand. It’s not like you come out for a beer much these days,” slurred Keith, his drunken gaze
not quite focusing on Alec. “Besides, she gets lippy, just give her a backhander. Sheila has learnt the hard way who
wears the trousers in our house.”
“Easy for you to say Keith. You’re not married to a
harridan, are you!”
“Harry who?” asked Keith looking confused. “You trying to tell me Martha is really
a bloke?”
Alec sighed. “No a harridan…a hag. I married a witch, Keith.”
“All women
can be bitches, me ole china. Especially once a month!”
