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Shaking my head, the punters quickly stopped their drunken antics.
‘Excuse me,’ I sighed. ‘Hop it!’
Being stern with a mother’s look always did the trick.
Over the years, being a barmaid in my local boozer, The Journey’s End, I’d had my fair share of great Peggy Mitchell moments.
‘I’m sorry, Nanny Ann,’ the regulars would apologise.
And that’s the nickname I’d coined over the years.
As I wasn’t just