The office was quiet. Deathly quiet. It was to be expected since the brothel had essentially ran out of business. Still, Nan didn’t like quiet. Silence and idle hands were always the devil’s playground in her opinion.
To break said silence, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it. She did a long, deep drag and held it a moment to truly appreciate the nicotine, then released it all into a large cloud.
Now her fingers drummed on the desk. Echoes from her nails clicking against the hardwood bounced all around the room while she sat lost in thought. She remained lost in those thoughts until the sound of footsteps pulled her back to reality.
Without thinking and thanks to instinct, her free hand reached under the desk for the hidden pistol. A woman never could be too careful. Especially a woman with money that was well known by all of London’s criminals. She didn’t look over, she merely kept her gaze at the wall in front of her while she continued smoking.
“Oy, state yer business or ‘ave ya skull and brains splattered on me wall.”
“Now Nan” chuckled a voice from the shadows “Is that any way to treat an old friend?”
Val walked into the light, looking at nan with a smile even after she threatened his life. “Honestly, a real charmer, you are.“
The corners of the madam’s mouth twitched into a small smile.
“Yer right. Usually I greet me pals wif knives! Ah, didn’t mean to threaten ya an’ all, jus’ wasn’t expectin’ nobody. As ya can see…”
She moved the hand that was hovering over the weapon only moments ago from under the desk to wave it around the empty room.
“This place is as empty as a convent afta tha rapture. Thought ya was a looter comin’ to see wot goodies were left behind.”
The ash had grown on the cigarette and she considered flicking it, but instead decided to crush it out completely.
“That remains to be seen.” he joked “Anyway, I recently managed to procure some fresh fruit and imported white wine. To me, that spells ‘White Sangria’. However, I feel that drinking with a friend is far better than drinking alone. So, how 'bout we pour ourselves a glass and catch up? I’d suspect you have plenty of stories to tell, would you not?”
“I’ll agree on that one, ole man. Drinkin’ alone ain’t evah good news.” She said while opening the bottom left drawer. “I don’t have any wine glasses on me, love. Jus’ some scotch glasses. Bettah than some ole paper cups though.”
Nan placed two glasses on the desk with care.
“I do indeed ‘ave some stories. A woman of me occupation always ‘as a few of them layin’ around.”
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