Pop Goes the Weasel

53

He hesitated before typing. How did one begin these things?

Hello Melissa. A mutual friend…

No, that wasn’t right.

Hello Melissa. My name is Paul and I would like to meet you.

That was better. Tony leaned back in his chair, amused by how much effort that had taken. And how nervous he’d been. Satisfied that the thing was now in train, he went to shut his computer down. But as he did so, a response pinged up.

Hello Paul. When would you like to meet?

Tony hesitated, then typed.

Tonight?

What time?

Tony hadn’t expected to be making arrangements so quickly. Still needs must.

Ten?

Pick up me up on the corner of Drayton St and Fenner Lane. I’ll be wearing a green coat. What car you drive?

Vauxhall.

Colour?

Silver.

Looking for company? Or something special?

Company.

How long?

Couple of hours?

£150 for two hours.

Ok.

Cash.

Sure.

See you later, Paul.

See you later, Melissa.

XXX .

End of conversation. Tony caught himself smiling. He was in his own bloody kitchen. Instant-messaging prostitutes. Still it wasn’t the kind of thing you could do in a café, so…

Tony switched off the computer. Nicola’s mum would be here soon and she didn’t need any more ammunition. Best go and get some rest.

Tony had a big night ahead of him.