She had been waiting nervously for some time. It was her own fault — she had arrived much too early, and was still nursing the drink she had bought ages ago. She took in her surroundings. It was strange, she thought, coming back here. For The Inferno was the place where it had all started for her, all those years ago.
Of course it was no longer called The Inferno. A good few years had passed since those heady days of the sixties. Now it was just one of many ‘trendy’ wine bars that had sprung up. It didn’t even look the same.
Suddenly tonight didn’t seem like a good idea. She downed the remainder of her drink and was about to leave, when a familiar voice halted her. “Oi, Duchess! Where d’you think you’re going?”
Her gaze led her to the top of the winding staircase, where a smiling figure looked down at her. It was a grin that reassured her, as if to say that everything was going to be all right. “Hallo, Polly,” said Ben Jackson. “Put the kettle on.”
To be continued...
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