Edward stepped into ‘The Looking Glass Brasserie’ and approached the friendly face behind the pedestal. .
“Good evening, Sir.” Her voice quivered slightly. “I trust you are well?”
“Fine, thank you.”
She reviewed the large black diary and glanced at her watch. “You’re a little early, Sir. If you’d like to wait at the bar, while we prepare your usual table.” She stepped out behind him. “Please allow me take your coat?”
“Thank you,” he muttered and strode off in the direction of her outstretched hand.
“What can I get you?” The tall bartender, who looked as if he needed to take full advantage of his workplace and eat a little more, laid his mobile phone by the till.
“A bottle of Italian beer. I’ll let you decide which one.”
His bony hands opened the green bottle, collected a glass and placed both in front of the customer.
As Edward slowly poured and sipped at the beverage, he watched the barman reclaim his smartphone and nonchalantly stroll to the far end of the counter.
Turning, he allowed his eyes to survey the busy restaurant. It had changed little since his last visit. Same dark panelled walls, covered with an array of antique and modern mirrors, same glass chandeliers. It looked a little cleaner and brighter, which was good, wasn’t it?
A cheerful waitress interrupted his thoughts. “We’re ready for you now, Sir. If you’d like to come with me.”
He emptied the glass and followed her to a round table in the far corner. He took a seat, with his back to the other diners.
“Is this alright for you, Sir?”
He nodded.
“Can I get you anything to drink, while you peruse the menu, Sir?”
“A bottle of the house red.”
“Certainly, Sir.” She silently stepped away from him.
As the evening progressed, Edward paced himself, through three exquisite plates of food, finishing with coffee and brandy. Finally, cupping the glass of the golden liquid, he silently toasted his refection.
The intake of alcohol started to take effect, causing him to teeter slightly as he rose from his chair.
“Many happy returns, Sir. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to greet you.”
Edward held out his hand to the approaching manager. “Not a problem, Roger.”
“Did you enjoy your meal, Sir?”
“It was delicious. Congratulate Raymond, for me.”
“There’s no time, unfortunately. I’ve a plane to catch. Besides, I feel that I may have drunk quite enough already.”
The waitress helped with his overcoat, which he fastened before following the manager towards the entrance.
“There is one thing.”
Roger opened the door and froze. “What would that be, Sir?”
“The barman.”
“Eric?”
“If that’s his name. Sack him.”
The manager showed little surprise. “Consider it done, Mr Valentine.”
“Thank you.” He gripped his employee’s hand. “Keep up the good work. Until next year, good-bye.”
Waving, he stepped out onto the pavement and into the waiting limousine.
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