It Takes All Sorts Coffee Break Tale

FICTION There’s someone for everyone, so they say... if they look hard enough!

Dan was hard hat and work boots, high-vis and spirit level, cement dust, diggers and mud. He was tattoos and tanned skin, sports pages and tea, and up before six to get the job done.

Mel was soft curves and curls, lots and lots of curls, all over the floor as she scissored and combed, shampooed, blow dried and dyed. She was “How’ve you been keeping?” and “Look at that weather,” and “Did you see that film? Oh, how I cried!”

Dan stared tight-lipped at his reflection, his shoulders hunched like a man caught in a storm, as Mel’s scissors and lips chattered on. He wished he’d chosen a male barber, but he was new in town, building the flats opposite and didn’t know where else to go.

“…and my drain’s been blocked all week,” Mel was saying, “but you try getting someone to come out.”

“Would you like me to look at it?” Dan asked, managing to get his first words in for a while. “Would you really?” Her eyes lit up, and he smiled.

Terri was stab vest and radio, handcuffs and blue lights, long shifts, no sleep and no-nonsense eyes. She was pub fights and break-ins and staring deadpan as the usual suspects told the usual lies.

Honest Ariq wasn’t a criminal, honest he wasn’t. He was, “How could you think that? I’m a business man, honest as the day is long.” He was, “It’s complicated,” and “That’s a long story,” and “Just ask my mate, I was with him all night long.”

Terri stifled a yawn in the interview room. She’d never met a man who could talk so much – and all of it nonsense, no surprise there.

“Has anyone ever told you,” said Ariq, “that you have beautiful eyes?”

“No,” said Terri, her face never cracking as she bailed him pending further enquiries.

“It’s true, though,” said Ariq, before he left the station. “You should be on telly with those eyes.”

Dan was on his belly, with his arm down the drain, wondering why he hadn’t just paid for his haircut and left.

“Can you see out here in the dark?” asked Mel. “I’ve brought you a cup of tea… and a cake… and – aaagh! Was that a rat?”

“No, it’s just hair.” He held it up to show her. “And your drain’s clear now.”

“What a hero!” said Mel. “You better come in and wash your hands… and have your cake. I’ll make some fresh tea. This one’s gone cold.”

Terri climbed into her squad car. She flipped down the visor and checked her eyes in the vanity mirror. Then she flipped it back up and told herself the day she believed a word Honest Ariq said would be the day she retired.

They sat in the salon chairs, and as Mel nattered on, Dan thought she’d be nice if her mouth had an off switch. He was just wondering if he’d ever get back to his digs when he saw movement through the window behind her.

“Someone’s on the site,” he said. “I’d better take a look. We’ve had a few things nicked.”

“Oh, be careful. Do you want me to come with you? Shall I find you a torch to take with you?”

“No, stay here. But if I’m not back in twenty call the Old Bill quick.”

See, I told you it wasn’t me,” said Ariq, when no charge was brought. “So as I’m no longer under suspicion, how about coming for a tipple at the Tipsy Turtle? Or tacos at Tito’s Trattoria on Torrington Terrace?” “Sorry,” said Terri. “I have a date.” She thought of Dan, who had pinned down the thief on the building site last night. With his tattoos and tan, few words and all action, the builder was her kind of man.

“Another time, then,” said Ariq. He wasn’t too fussed. She had beautiful eyes but she didn’t say much. If they went out he’d be talking all the time.

Ariq liked a woman with plenty to say. As he walked down the steps, he smoothed down his hair and realised it was getting long. Just about time for a trim – he’d try that new salon.

Mel’s, it was called. He wondered what she’d be like…