I peered out of the Bentley’s tinted windows, the long, red-bricked main street anything but inviting. It was only five to eight on a Friday night but it was already packed, the people – most of them around my age or a smidge older - not in the least put off by the increasingly heavy rain.
I wished I could say the same.
Droplets pelted the glass before racing each other down and out of sight. No doubt into a puddle banked by the pavement. I hoped it wasn’t an omen of what was to come. The bar that Brian had picked for our ‘date’ had a queue outside. Or maybe it was just a group of smokers.
Already I could hear the pumping bassline of the music. It practically shook the street.
A frown sat upon my lips. “Tony,” I said too seriously for someone who was looking at the beginning of her
