Alan reached for his phone and dialed the number.
“Hello. Is Celia there, please?”
“Yes, speaking.”
“You don’t know me but I need to meet with you. My name is Alan. I’m a friend of Cathy’s. She told me if I ever needed anything to call you.”
“O. Ok. Where do you want to meet?”
“Do you know the pub on the corner of Mall Street, O’ Flanagan’s? I’ll meet you there in an hour. I’ll be wearing a red jacket.”
“I’ll see you there.”
Alan hung up. He picked up his keys in the hallway, grabbed his red jacket from the coat rail and jumped in his car. He got to town as the church bell tolled midday, he was running slightly late. He pushed through the door in the bar and went to the counter.
“Pint, please” said Alan to the disheveled looking barman.
“Alan?”
Alan turned around.
“Celia. Thank you for meeting me. Will you have a drink?”
“I have one at that table” said Celia, pointing and walking over.
Unknown (Extract)
