faltered briefly as he tried to remember the name from his email confirmation. '...Marcus? Or is he here? I booked in through the website.'
'Oh...' the old guy muttered. 'Oh!' more excitedly and Dave saw his eyes light up as something clicked into place.
'How's it going?' the man repeated, darting out a hand that pretty much forced one of Dave's own into a handshake. 'I'm Bruno. Weren't expecting you. Didn't you get my message?'
'No. No I did not,' Dave said slowly, a sinking feeling in his stomach. After another pause during which Bruno stood scratching at the back of his head, Dave added, 'Is there some sort of problem?'
'Nah, mate, no problem... Just, you know, thought the old warning might scare you away. See, we weren't really expecting anyone to be booking in yet. Slight misunderstanding with my boy. That'd be the Marcus you were after.' Bruno followed up the sentence with a string of Italian which, although he had no idea what it meant, didn't strike him as being particularly complementary.
'Warning?' Dave prompted after the old guy lapsed into silence again, still scratching away at his skull.
'Yeah, you know about all this.' Bruno gestured around. 'We're not quite done yet.' He added in what Dave thought was one of the biggest understatements he'd heard in a good long while.
Although he was starting to find the situation awkwardly amusing, obviously that sentiment didn't translate to his facial expressions. Judging by Bruno's reaction, he must have looked pissed.
'But it's no issue if you want to stay. Two of the upstairs rooms are done if you just stay away from the balconies and, you know, don't mind the noise and all. And of course the discount I mentioned in my message still stands.' Bruno held up his hands in a gesture of placation.
'I–' Dave started.
'And don't be thinking it's unsafe or anything like that. As you can see the bar is done, building is structurally sound and we have the locals in here most afternoons. Only place around here they can get a brew. Probably have a riot on our hands if we shut it down.'
'I–'
'But that said don't think I'm twisting your arm or nothing. Never let that be said. That Bruno Gallo railroaded you.'
'I–'
'No skin off my nose either way, yeah.'
It didn't take Dave long to figure out which course of action he preferred. Given a choice of remaining in the building with alcohol and shelter – and at a healthy discount if Bruno's words were to be believed – or returning to the Tiida and the sleeting rain to search out another place to stay, Dave knew the option he'd be picking.
A third option, just heading home, occurred to him but that was not particularly appealing. He'd had enough driving for one day and besides, his holidays had been booked in advance at work and he'd been unable to swap them – he knew, because in the wake of Naomi's walking out, he'd tried. If he did return home it'd just be to mope around the flat all day, seeing Naomi in every familiar object.
And, of course, there was the point of the deposit he'd already paid.
As Bruno continued to fidget in front of him, Dave made up his mind.
'What sort of discount are we talking about here?' he asked, doing his best to keep the eagerness out of his voice.
5.
Five minutes after Bruno Gallo started fumbling around the bar, Dave worked out that he had pretty much no idea what he was doing. After watching him leaf through the same stack of papers and ledgers for the third time, it had become harder and harder to hold back laughter. Especially with the unending stream of grunts and groans and muttered Italian the man had unleashed as he'd searched for whatever it was that eluded him.
Even now, as he poured himself a pint from the Carlton tap, Dave was uncertain of exactly what the man had been trying to achieve. All he knew was it had taken a lot of scrabbling by Bruno before he admitted defeat and summoned Marcus from beyond the drop-sheet with a terse yell. What followed was a brief but
'Oh...' the old guy muttered. 'Oh!' more excitedly and Dave saw his eyes light up as something clicked into place.
'How's it going?' the man repeated, darting out a hand that pretty much forced one of Dave's own into a handshake. 'I'm Bruno. Weren't expecting you. Didn't you get my message?'
'No. No I did not,' Dave said slowly, a sinking feeling in his stomach. After another pause during which Bruno stood scratching at the back of his head, Dave added, 'Is there some sort of problem?'
'Nah, mate, no problem... Just, you know, thought the old warning might scare you away. See, we weren't really expecting anyone to be booking in yet. Slight misunderstanding with my boy. That'd be the Marcus you were after.' Bruno followed up the sentence with a string of Italian which, although he had no idea what it meant, didn't strike him as being particularly complementary.
'Warning?' Dave prompted after the old guy lapsed into silence again, still scratching away at his skull.
'Yeah, you know about all this.' Bruno gestured around. 'We're not quite done yet.' He added in what Dave thought was one of the biggest understatements he'd heard in a good long while.
Although he was starting to find the situation awkwardly amusing, obviously that sentiment didn't translate to his facial expressions. Judging by Bruno's reaction, he must have looked pissed.
'But it's no issue if you want to stay. Two of the upstairs rooms are done if you just stay away from the balconies and, you know, don't mind the noise and all. And of course the discount I mentioned in my message still stands.' Bruno held up his hands in a gesture of placation.
'I–' Dave started.
'And don't be thinking it's unsafe or anything like that. As you can see the bar is done, building is structurally sound and we have the locals in here most afternoons. Only place around here they can get a brew. Probably have a riot on our hands if we shut it down.'
'I–'
'But that said don't think I'm twisting your arm or nothing. Never let that be said. That Bruno Gallo railroaded you.'
'I–'
'No skin off my nose either way, yeah.'
It didn't take Dave long to figure out which course of action he preferred. Given a choice of remaining in the building with alcohol and shelter – and at a healthy discount if Bruno's words were to be believed – or returning to the Tiida and the sleeting rain to search out another place to stay, Dave knew the option he'd be picking.
A third option, just heading home, occurred to him but that was not particularly appealing. He'd had enough driving for one day and besides, his holidays had been booked in advance at work and he'd been unable to swap them – he knew, because in the wake of Naomi's walking out, he'd tried. If he did return home it'd just be to mope around the flat all day, seeing Naomi in every familiar object.
And, of course, there was the point of the deposit he'd already paid.
As Bruno continued to fidget in front of him, Dave made up his mind.
'What sort of discount are we talking about here?' he asked, doing his best to keep the eagerness out of his voice.
5.
Five minutes after Bruno Gallo started fumbling around the bar, Dave worked out that he had pretty much no idea what he was doing. After watching him leaf through the same stack of papers and ledgers for the third time, it had become harder and harder to hold back laughter. Especially with the unending stream of grunts and groans and muttered Italian the man had unleashed as he'd searched for whatever it was that eluded him.
Even now, as he poured himself a pint from the Carlton tap, Dave was uncertain of exactly what the man had been trying to achieve. All he knew was it had taken a lot of scrabbling by Bruno before he admitted defeat and summoned Marcus from beyond the drop-sheet with a terse yell. What followed was a brief but
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