WORTH THE PRICE

I got “napped”. Regular readers might guess by whom but I won’t mention any names so as not to incriminate anyone other than myself.
He took us on a tour. Yes, “us” means we got “napped” though, when he offered to show us round the place she said, ‘We haven’t got time.’
‘Five minutes,’ I said to her. ‘We can do five minutes,’ and he was persuasive, ‘Come on, come on, have a look.’
Downstairs first.
‘It’s such a big space,’ I said.
‘It always was,’ he said.
‘I know that, but I mean it really looks it with everything taken out.’
‘Except for the mess,’ she said.
The brickwork has been sandblasted and the bar is going to be made of ash.
‘Look at it,’ he said pulling back the corner of a plastic sheet. I stroked the wood, ‘Lovely.’
Upstairs we stood at the top of the fire escape and looked down at the roof of the recent extension housing the new kitchen.
‘Mostly we’ll prep but we’ll do some cooking,’ he said.
‘It’s huge,’ she said.
‘The entrance to the women’s toilet is down there...’
‘What in the kitchen?’
‘...and under the fire escape is the smokers’ area, that’s all they’d allow.’
He’s never been less than generous, often a whole lot more. He said, ‘Come on, I’ve got something for you.’
We followed him into one of the rooms off the top corridor.
‘It’s from Nepal,’ he said.
A man I’d not seen before walked into the room. I thought he must be a new addition to the number of hangers on were always around when we drank and played music there.
‘See you could have lots of friends if you had that kind of money,’ she said as we walked away after saying goodbye.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But friends you can buy aren’t worth the price.’