Helen St. James isn't there, not in any perceptible way. A woman of her size - she's willing to admit she could lose a few pounds, but darn it, she likes how she looks - usually has no way of sneaking about, but one minute Helen is not there, and the next she is. She takes a seat at the bar and waves down the bartender.
"Hey there, sugar," she says. "Javameister, please and thank you. And a couple of those famous creme eggs."
Hi there Helen and welcome. Although my stops at the Pub have been brief so far I guarantee that you will always have fun here and the pubbers will steal your heart.
No. Really. Guard your heart or it will end up in one those tinted jars and you will never be free again!