The last thing he needed is to have barged in and come face to face with a group of drunken squatters. Hearing the tele making a racket but no voices,...he knocks on the door.Opening the door, The Rat, with his usual charming look, sways in the doorway."Oh hell I've not seen you in a while, what do you want now?" slurs the Rat"We need a chat can I come in?" says the mystery manThe flat was dirtier than ever and nothing had changed except for the crates of lager, piled up like a Lego block tower,. "Come in," he offered and even cracked a wry smile.She paused briefly and, feeling disarmed by his smile, walked in. "I want to say sorry," she offered, and he gave a little grunt."I must be losin' my touch," he told her. "'Cause I ain't had a girl sneak off in the middle of the night before ... especially after sex. Woke up feelin' right depressed."Abigail's expression changed from apologetic to guilt, and she shrugged. "Yeah. It just felt ... it felt like eet did before." Is that bad?"She. More

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