Heather was sitting outside, enjoying the rare English sunshine from the branches of gnarled tree out back.  It was truly lovely weather, the kind one could get lost in forever.  And, perhaps she would have, had a sharp snag of conscience not dragged her day-dreamy mind back to present.<br/>“Oh, dear,” she said to absolutely no one, “I must have lost track of the time!”  With a musical chuckle she dislodged herself from the tree and landed, skirts akimbo, in a heap.  Climbing to her feet and giving herself a quick brush down, she skittered around to the door and stumbled, with breathless grace, into the pub.<br/>“Hello!” she called, “Miss me?”