Bar Work
The nightclub was full when Dempsey slipped past a burley, thick set bouncer. He kept his dark sunglasses on as the latest release from Wham! hit his ears. In Club Tropicana the drinks may have been free but in this place it was more than just drinks on offer and it all came with a price. He hopped onto a barstool and waited for Harry to serve the guy dressed as an extra from Miami Vice.
"Alright? Wot can I getcha?"
"Vodka. Straight." He watched as Harry tried not to roll her eyes. He knew she had done some bar work in her university days so he wasn't worried that she wouldn't be able to keep up with the real bar staff.
"There you go." She placed the glass on the bar. "Have a good night."
"Oh I intend to." He tilted his glass towards her as Chas and Dave could be seen entering the bar. Harry wanted to scream but at least Dave had brought a 'date' with him. She recognised the younger woman as Sophie from the front desk - a young WPC who had no idea what she was getting involved in. Schooling her face into neutral Harry carried on serving customers - keeping in the role of Sally Dempsey with ease. James smiled slightly, knowing that none of the clientele could ever imagine an elite police unit was in their midst; never mind actually serving them drinks. He turned, looking out over the dance floor. The sight of teenagers and men and women in their early twenties dancing and enjoying themselves made him feel incredibly old.
Xxxxx
Harry put the pound notes in the till as she sang along to the latest song the DJ; she had learned was names DJ Dan played. It was an older song but she liked it. Suddenly feeling self conscious she looked up to see the man who had given her the job watching her.
"Enjoying yourself?" He asked. Harry smiled.
"I love this song." She answered honestly. "The DJ knows his stuff."
"Dan. Yeah, bit of a plank but he knows his music. Never took you for a Soft Cell fan." He smiled as Harry raised an eyebrow. "Tainted love?"
"What's wrong with Soft Cell?" Harry stayed in character. She knew if she slipped the op was over. The stiletto shoes she wore pinched and nipped her feet as she tottered around on them. For a moment she wondered why she had felt frumpy wearing her jeans and trainers. At least her feet hadn't been almost crippled. The burley man ran his eyes over her figure as she fought the bile rising in her throat. She knew he was leering at her to intimidate her. What made her angry was the fact it was working.
"What do you think of the club?" He asked. Harry sighed.
"Good DJ, young customer base, no obvious trouble. Seems friendly enough." She smiled. "Not like the last place I worked. Don't get me wrong, the staff were nice but all the weed that was getting to me."
"You clean then?"
"Yeah." Harry nodded. She hated drugs - had seen so many people destroyed by them. "Not my thing."
"No? And you're a barmaid?"
"Yeah. I don't mind people doing it. I just don't."
"Sally. I think you are going to be just fine here." She smiled as he turned away. She was in. All she had to do now was find Harrington.
Xxxxx
