Madrid.

RollingRock“Where have you been” Madrid asked me.

“Talking to Jeanette just as you asked me to.” I replied.

“I couldn’t find her, when I went looking” she said “She just seemed to disappear”

“She was over behind the shed” I gestured with a sideways nod of my head, conscious that I was sweating slightly.

“Are you OK?” said Madrid. “You look hot?”

“I am” I replied “It must be thirty degrees out here and I’m wearing a dark suit. It’s hardly surprising I’m hot” I replied, rather too defensively.

“I’m going in for a drink. Are you driving home?” And before she could answer, I’d entered the kitchen and had helped myself to a beer. Not off the buffet table; they were warm and for the ignorant; I knew where the cold ones were kept, so I chugged on a long neck Rolling Rock and stood unobserved in the corner of the utility room whilst looking at Jeanette as she chatted animatedly to her boyfriend.

© authorphile.wordpress.com My lawyers are watching.
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