Unexpected Encounters [B.H.M.]

7

I didn't know what time it was exactly when the obnoxious ringing of my telephone pulled me out of my sweet dreams. It was not appreciated. But it didn't stop, so I eventually forced myself out of bed and answered it with a rather grumpy "Hello".

"Yes, hello, is this Frida?"

I didn't know the voice so I was a little confused what a stranger wanted from me in the middle of the night. It was not a situation I could make sense of, especially not this time of day. Part of me was convinced that it was not a good idea to reveal my identity on the phone with a stranger, however that part of me wasn't fast enough so I had already confirmed my name.

"I'm assuming you know the man who's keeping me here beyond my opening hours."

What was happening? I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, I'm not sure I get what you mean. Who are you and why are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

"I'm the owner of the Ten Bells and officially we closed ten minutes ago. However I have a man sitting here with no ID or money and he is refusing to leave so I searched his pockets and found a note with your name and phone number. Is your husband still out?"

Ten Bells? That sounded like a pub, but I had no idea where that might be or why they were calling me, and most importantly who this man was with my phone number in his pocket. "I... I don't have a husband."

"Ma'am, would you please come here?"

"No, I will not, I'm not driving through the city at night just because some guy has my number is his pocket," I said annoyed before I took a deep breath. "What does this man look like?" I was trying to think of friends who might carry my number around in their pocket but I couldn't think of anyone.

"Tall... a lot of curly hair, very thin, a prominent nose and I think he's called Ryan or something."

That description ran through my mind before my sleepy brain surprisingly came up with an explanation. A weird explanation but it seemed to be fitting. "Brian..."

"Yes, that could also be. You know him then, yes?" The man sounded relieved.

"I guess you could say that, yes..," I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

"Wonderful. The address is 6 Shaftesbury Avenue."

I groaned quietly and nodded. "Fine, but it will take me at least half an hour to get there."

"That's fine with me, but you better not make that much longer if you don't want your friend to sleep on the street and a rather hefty tab bill sent to you because that's the only name I have," the man said and hung up without another word.

I took a moment to just try and wrap my head around what was happening. Some man had just called me in the middle of the night and asked me to pick up an apparently drunk rock star who had nothing on him but a note with my name and phone number on it. What was I supposed to think of that? That was not normal and I found it very very strange. Especially because it was three in the morning and I now had to drive through half of the city. Sighing, I shook my head before I wandered off to get dressed. I wasn't going to look spectacular but I wanted to look decent at least, and by that I meant dressed in somewhat proper clothes and not just my pyjamas.

When I was dressed I got out my roadmap and worked out a way to the pub before I was off on my way. Luckily it was already so late that the streets weren't awfully busy anymore. The radio helped a little, the music this time of day wasn't spectacular but bad music in this case was better than no music.

After about half an hour of driving I got to the pub and managed to park not too far from the entrance. Pulling my jacket a little tighter around myself when I got out of the car I hurried the few metres along the sidewalk until I got to the pub. However when I wanted to go inside, the door was locked. "Oh for fuck's sake," I groaned. Why again had I just drived half an hour through the city?! Annoyed I knocked rather forcefully. Nothing. So I knocked again, hoping that if no one opened I would at least knock down the door.