Angelo

She crawled out of bed after another sleepless night.

How could anybody be expected to sleep with that racket going on? Despite this, she managed to leave the flat on time and make her way to the office. The day didn’t go well. In fact, it went mostly wrong. She was very tired. She didn’t seem to be managing her department very well and she knew she had to do something about it.

At lunchtime she walked across to the park and sat eating her sandwiches as usual. She was due at her mother’s for tea that night. She thought about it. She strolled slowly back to the office, still thinking about it.

During the afternoon she called her mother to say that she might be a little late for tea, then she packed up and left early. She caught a bus into the city centre and made her way to a small bar that her brother-in-law had once told her about. He’d been drunk at the time but she was willing to give it a go.

It took a while to find it. It was tucked away in a side alley. As she entered she felt very much out of place. After all, she didn’t normally spend time in places like this. Although it was early evening there were several customers sitting at tables. She went up to the bar and ordered a drink and took it to a table. She sat quietly sipping her drink and thinking about her next move. After a few minutes she got up and approached the barman again.

“Are you Sam?”

He looked up. “That’s me.”

“Sam, I’ve been told you can put me in touch with a man called Angelo.”

The barman stopped washing glasses, dried his hands and walked slowly to the counter.

He looked her up and down and said “You’re asking for Angelo?”

“Yes, Angelo. I’m told he provides… special services.”

The barman went back to washing glasses under the sink. He was obviously thinking about it.

She waited patiently

He returned and said “Let me get this right. You want to get in touch with Angelo for his special services. Is that right?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’d like to meet up with him, if that’s OK.”

He chuckled. “Nobody meets up with Angelo. Hang on. If you’re serious, I’ll get you his number.”

She smiled and said “Thanks.”

He disappeared off to the side. When he came back he leant forward on the bar and said in a low voice “I don’t know who you are miss, and I don’t want to know, and you didn’t get this from me. Have you got that?”

She said “Yes. Got it.”

He slid a scrap of paper across the counter and turned away to serve another customer. When she returned to her table she opened it and saw that it was a telephone number. She finished her drink, slowly and thoughtfully, then left the bar.

She arrived at her mother’s late and spent what seemed to be an obligatory hour and a half, occasionally moving her fingers over the piece of paper in her pocket, before returning home.

When she got there she found a bottle and poured herself another drink. She sat staring at the number she’d been given. She finished her drink and dialled.

A man with a thick accent said “Hello.”

She paused, then asked “Are you Angelo?”

A few moments passed and he said “Yes. What do you want?”

She took a deep breath and said “Do you do dogs?”