Raspberry Jam
No earthly place to put this, definitely not in PRICE, has just been running through my head...
Sarah got to the pub late, well after the game was done and the rugby players had had time to clean up and get the celebrations underway. She assumed it was celebration, judging from the noise level as she made her way through the pub to the tables occupied by the team. It took her a minute to find Harry among the tall players. A darts game was in progress. The captain was holding forth to his admiring audience, waving his glass as he demonstrated some fine point of strategy. Some of the others were harmonizing on a vulgar ballad, a familiar curly head among them. Sarah ducked through the outskirts of the mob to tap on Harry's shoulder as the chorus ended.
"Hey, I made it," she said.
"Sarah!" He turned and scooped her off her feet into a hug that threatened to break at least one rib and a kiss that made her head spin. Amid the enthusiastic hoots and catcalls of the team, a startled Sarah demanded,
"Harry! What on earth's got into you?"
"We won," he said, cheerfully unabashed. "I'm drunk as a lord -- well, drunk as a knight, maybe. I've gotten well past the gentry, at any rate, and I'm working my way up to baronet--"
"You're burbling."
"Well, I'm pissed. It's a celebration. I have a pretty girl in my arms, and she hasn't slapped my face yet," he explained reasonably. "Do I need any other reason?"
Sarah got to the pub late, well after the game was done and the rugby players had had time to clean up and get the celebrations underway. She assumed it was celebration, judging from the noise level as she made her way through the pub to the tables occupied by the team. It took her a minute to find Harry among the tall players. A darts game was in progress. The captain was holding forth to his admiring audience, waving his glass as he demonstrated some fine point of strategy. Some of the others were harmonizing on a vulgar ballad, a familiar curly head among them. Sarah ducked through the outskirts of the mob to tap on Harry's shoulder as the chorus ended.
"Hey, I made it," she said.
"Sarah!" He turned and scooped her off her feet into a hug that threatened to break at least one rib and a kiss that made her head spin. Amid the enthusiastic hoots and catcalls of the team, a startled Sarah demanded,
"Harry! What on earth's got into you?"
"We won," he said, cheerfully unabashed. "I'm drunk as a lord -- well, drunk as a knight, maybe. I've gotten well past the gentry, at any rate, and I'm working my way up to baronet--"
"You're burbling."
"Well, I'm pissed. It's a celebration. I have a pretty girl in my arms, and she hasn't slapped my face yet," he explained reasonably. "Do I need any other reason?"