"It is, isn't it? They should sing songs about it." Mary smiled and put an arm around Delia, giving her a hug. "Don't you worry. We'll think of something. An' I'm sure Slater won't stay dumb over this bit of fluff too long. He'll wake up, Del. An when he does, you can be right there to tell him off for it."
The gin was warming everything up into a nice glow. Anger, hurt, everything just seemed a bit more fun now. She wasn't drunk, but she had the idea that it was high time they both got there. "Meantime, you're right. You shouldn't go home. You should go..." Mary paused as the lack of options ocurred to her. Harry would probably not be happy if she brought Delia home with her but Mary wasn't happy that mum was around and that was a fair trade. HE was her brothre and Delia was her sister and the rest of it could hang itself. "You should go wherever you bloody well want to. We all should. Where do you want to go, Delia? Screw everyone and their rules- if they get to go mad and be stupid and awful, we should get to too."