I glanced back behind the bar and saw a sink. “Honey, I’ll be fine. You go back there behind the bar and wash your hands. That dress is too pretty...to ruin.”“Carl?”“Go wash up. I’m not going anywhere.” I had my hand clamped on my arm, trying to keep up pressure. It hadn’t hurt before, but that was changing quickly. Now I was at the stinging-like-a-bitch stage! Shit!That was about the end of the evening in the bar. I think we turned out the entire police force on Eleuthera that night, at least a. So here I was receiving letters from Sarah which were fast become more intimate and at the same time, I was maintaining a healthy relationship with Drusilla during the week (Most weekends she seemed to disappear off to one social engagement or another). Sadly, much later in the year, her very posh boyfriend was caught with his arse in the air on top of a less posh piece of totty at a party and Drusilla decided to call it quits. As it happened I was down stairs with a friend of Drusilla’s and. More

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