“What kind of partying you do, girl?” “The usual! A little beer. A little grass.” she said, pausing before adding, “And a little…. Other f...n” “You wanna have fun wit de sugarman?” I looked up at him as he lit a joint “You got some for me?” I said, smiling up at this tall dreadlocked black man. “How much money you got, girl?” he replied, smiling down at me. I frowned! “Not much! Maybe ten bucks!” “Well, dat’s not enough to get you high for long. At least on de high quality stuff, I can get!”. Boldly she wandered through the patchy gorse, here and there small tents, some real but cheap tents, some just plastic sheets, some cardboard or corrugated iron, from at least one, a pair of enquiring and suspicious eyes followed her progress. Central to the camp alongside the railings of the dairy was an old oil drum, flames issuing from the top and a number of scruffy men, were sitting round it, passing round a shared bottle of some sort of spirit. Boldly she approached the fire and said, “hi. More

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