“Are you from England?”, she continued.“Not with this accent”, I replied, “No, I‘m from Wales actually, but its close”, I continued.Sara... laughed a little unsure as to whether I was the chap that she so confidently rang a few minutes ago. With her elbow on the bar, she raised her thumb to her mouth and nibbled it for a while, then she sipped her drink and replaced it. She was looking at me every now and then.“Excuse me, please…”, she said, “I have to make a call.”She left the bar and went to. So, summoning the ghosts of Charles Dickens and Jane Austen, I managed to answer super-politely. "Please tender them my regrets and inform them that I am not receiving today." I vented my displeasure in a way they couldn't see, with a backhanded finger in the direction of the door.The doorknob rattled and I looked at my hand, amazed that my digit had such power. Then I remembered I'd locked the door and someone must have tested it. Good. Maybe now they'd leave me alone."Dee?"Shit! Was that. More

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