A crazed woman shot out the back door of the shoppe/Post Office. She looked rather like the post mistress to me. Wide eyed, grinning like a Cheshire cat sort of crazed. "Have you got the van key?" she demanded of me then pushing past with a pile of boxes in her arms. The key was in the ignition I ventured guardedly. .
John A the councillor sprang into action - coffee in hand, bought in the shoppe that morning. "Now hold on there" he said with a smidgin of concern upon hearing me ask if the post woman lady person can drive.
Just down t'road, Ben the Vet [Pushkin's private physician ] was soothing a stroppy horse as the farrier fitted new shoes.