Down the Hanged Man for a sociable cider and Bailey’s last night. Pog, our church secretary, was in a terrible state.
She’d got wind of this issue with a PCC having to pay back expenses , and thought her claims for taxis were being investigated. I mean, they’re on the high side – especially the taxi fares, when you consider she lives next to the church hall. But then claiming medicinal use for the Pernod she drinks after the meetings seems entirely reasonable. Frankly I’m surprised she doesn’t just get absinthe put in via a drip.