The Identity Thief sat in a bar with a G&T untouched on the counter in front of her. She considered her avoidance of the floppy haired chap a lucky escape. By good fortune Madeline had a small amount of usable funds in her purse. $1000 bills were difficult to convert into drinks in bars in London and a drink had been in order.
The bar was modern retro. Chrome, marble and glass the materials of choice for its designer. Huge ferns and other assorted greenery contrasting with austerity and colonial longing.
She found she was hungry. A steady increase in the number of people in the bar indicating that it was lunchtime only fuelled the feeling. Perhaps Madeline was not the kind of girl who went in for such simplicities as breakfast.
The Identity Thief ordered Salade Nicoise with chargrilled tuna and settled at a table to await her food.
A sudden thunderstorm thrashed against the windows.
She sipped her G&T.
Pulled her skirt hem over Madeline’s stocking tops.
Rested her chin on a hand.
Wondered what would happen next.
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