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Catering for Love

Jodie woke to someone breathing stale beer breath into her festival sparkled face. She recoiled from the unknown man. ‘Hey, what are you doing in this tent?’ she screeched.

‘Camping,’ the man replied sleepily.

‘This is my tent,’ Jodie yelled, ‘get out!’

‘I think you’ll find this is my tent and you need to leave,’ the man countered, more awake now.

‘Actually,’ another voice cut in, ‘this is the catering tent and you both need to leave unless you’re buying breakfast.’

‘We’ll have two full English,’ Mr beer breath said. He smiled and winked at Jodie.

‘And two teas,’ she added.

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