Past-Part Fills Part 7
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Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
iv.
February 14, 2kXX. 12:05 PM
The day began, as always, with her favourite tune playing from the old radio nestled in an abandoned corner of a wall-mounted shelf, home now to dust balls and hidden-from-view spiders’ nests. It had been chilly earlier in the morning, the draught creeping in from underneath the door and snaking through a tiny gap in the window - Francis must have forgotten to check they were properly closed before going home last night.
Sunlight filtered through red-and-yellow patchwork drapes now, casting fuzzy fractals on linoleum tiles, as morning gradually eased into noon.
And like always, she hummed (it had always been Mother’s favourite song) as she worked, dusting the cabinet shelves first, before turning to attack those stubborn stains on the counter with her trusty cleaning cloth. The stains blended into the dark wood of the counter too easily, putting up a tough fight against her via camouflage (but not to worry, she also had her other cleaning side-kick at hand, Super Dish Disinfectant Spray - she’d take them out before anyone could cry “Yahztee!”)
There was an abrupt creak (those hinges need to be oiled), followed by the jangle of bells as the front door swung open, and then there was fast-approaching footsteps and-
“I’m sorry, we’re not open for the day yet.” Angeline said, without looking up. “Business only begins at a quarter pass two.”
Sometimes, like today, she would get people entering a tad bit too early (you’d think they would at least take a glance at sign on the door, stating very clearly, their operating hours). But she was, as always, the ever gracious bartender, so she remained courteous still.
“Apologies for the intrusion. We’re not here for the usual, however...”
Unlike always, that was one voice Angeline hadn’t expected to hear.
She straightened her glasses, and turned to acknowledge the slender-built man who had just entered through the front door.
“Hello Mister Fox. What a ... surprise to see you here.”
Angeline would have added “nice” to the “surprise”, she really would. After all, Mister Fox wasn’t un-nice. Neither was he particularly bad-looking (not quite her type though).
Whenever he showed up in her bar, he was always polite and apologetic, and his visits were generally short, even if he was never upfront about what he needed.
But still, she could not bring herself to describe his visits as “nice”. Not when she knew the kind of business Mister Fox was usually involved in.
Then again, it was almost similar to the kind of business she was involved in.
For while Angeline Hippolyte Grimaldi was the proud owner of Moon and Sixpence by night, she too was one of Londinium’s best information broker, also by night (and sometimes by day, for mysterious fellows like Mister Fox, who are often on irregular schedules). And for her to able to obtain certain information, Angeline herself had to be “not-very-nice”, or even “not-nice-at-all”.
You just couldn’t be too nice if you wanted to stay in this business for long.
The man gave her a short bow. “You look well, Miss Angeline. I hope things have been good for you?”
“We’ve been doing pretty all right the last two months.” Angeline said, putting away her cleaning spray and cloth below the counter, before she reached for a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet behind her. She poured a glass and offered it to the man, who accepted it with another gracious dip of his head and a soft thank you.
“There were a couple of bulls that came in few nights ago though. Said they were looking for a doll with gimp, and wondered if she’d ever visited.” She reached for a deck of playing cards from a drawer, shuffling the cards loosely in her hands before squaring the deck once more.
“Apparently she’s been missing for a week, and the poor bird’s husband’s a wreck now. And apparently, ever since she’s gone missing, the number of alley brawls on this side seems to have increased.”
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