They ate breakfast in a private parlour and drank coffee with some toast.
“So, does anyone actually call you Albert or do you generally go by David?” He’d been wondering if David had a double life. One in the stews and one in society. If he did, did they never collide?
David gave him a long look with those curious grey green eyes, and then took a sip of his coffee. He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and laid it carefully on the table before he spoke. He tilted his head to one side. “Last person to call me Albert was shitting teeth for a week.”
Jeremy let out a bark of laughter. David’s tone, his voice, and his manner hadn’t altered a bit, so the coarse remark sounded all the more absurd.
He relaxed his formal pose and smiled. “I kid you not. Don’t ever call me Albert. Fair warning.
