She hailed from a tiny fishing village on the west coast of Scotland and had the cutest accent to prove it. She stood about five foot seven with a nic... figure and had a pretty, slightly freckly face topped by the most glorious long red hair. (Why is it that red hair looks so terrible on men but wonderful on women?) I liked her a lot. And I am choosing my words here, ‘liked her a lot’ does not mean ‘fancied her rotten’. I suppose I felt quite paternal towards her. She had, strangely, never been. Pretty young waitresses in Playboy- bunny- type costumes pranced around with bottles of superb French champagne, seeing that no glass stayed empty for more than a moment. Angie was enjoying the champagne and the music and the powerful joint she and Tim had shared a short while ago behind an ivy-shrouded pillar in the garden.Most of the people present were not Tim's, or Angie's, type. They were very sleek and modishly dressed, with personalities that came across like chipped ice. But they were. More

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