by Alex Mitchell.
I first became aware of Carmina – I never learned her last name – when we were both students at the University of Aberdeen. She was a dark-haired, exotic beauty at the centre of a group of decadent, upper-class sophisticates who seldom bothered to turn up at lectures but would come lurching into tutorials, at which attendance was compulsory, still half-wrecked from the excesses of the previous night or weekend.
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