Chapter Sixteen

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In his workshop, John carefully prepared his paint spray gun. A current of air chilled the garage, and the hairs on his neck tingled. He glanced over his shoulder, almost expecting to see someone and laughed at his imagination when he saw the door swinging on its hinges.

On completing the paintwork on the Duchess, he stood back and admired his work. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he had not eaten since breakfast.

After showering, he sat in his kitchen smoking and blowing smoke rings. The lit end came close to his fingers as he stubbed the cigarette and dropped it in the bin. He stared at a blank television screen for a few minutes. "Sod it," he muttered, picked up the telephone, and dialled Angela's number.

She answered before it rang twice.

John could hear her breathing. "Fancy dinner in the pub? And I know what you're thinking."

"I thought we agreed not to meet until you did your thing with the brothers."

"I know, but I want to see you. Can you make it for seven?"

She ended the call with, "Don't be late."

The line went dead as he started to say something.

He yawned, closed his eyes and told himself it was only dinner.

***

Angela, wearing a dark brown suit with a white blouse, stood in her bathroom, ran a comb through her hair, touched up her makeup and smiled.

As she strolled into the Lion and Unicorn, she spotted John sitting in a corner seat. She smiled at his black jeans, white shirt and sports jacket with leather patches on its elbows.

He watched her as she walked towards him, her back straight and looking like a million dollars.

She shook her head. "I see you dressed for the occasion."

"This is a pub, not the Dorchester."

She seated herself close to him. "Why do you want to see me?"

"I miss you."

"Well, you certainly know how to impress." her eyes drifted around the pub. The early diners were leaving, and those next to the bar continued drinking.

"It seems I'm in the stocks, but as you know, the food's good, and they serve a great pint. But I need the practice for relationships and romantic settings."

"You'll do for me. You're not a womaniser, and I know how you feel about me. But you have something men conveniently forget."

"And what's that?"

"Honesty. You tell it as it is, and men like you are like rocking horse shit. In short supply."

John laughed as he waved at Heather.

She arrived at their table in seconds. "The special is beef curry with rice, but he'll do chips if you prefer."

"Curry and chips? Your joking," said Angela.

"It's what the two lads over there wanted plus plenty of pints of lager," said Heather.

"Never seen them in here before," said John.

"The boss told me they're contractors working in the area. They've been in here every night for the past four days. Bit noisy and crude at times but generally no problem," said Heather.

"I'll have steak and chips with seasonal vegetables."

"Make that two," said Angela.

"Can I please have my steak well done?" asked John.

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