One of Us
“Late that night, the lights would come on and the doors would open. Men with thick necks and three-quarter length black coats would stand at the doors, watching out for trouble and for short skirts. Now, though, it was two closed doors, windows painted black, a dark stain on the pavement just outside. I made my hand into a fist and banged on the beaten copper-coloured metal of the door. It was cold, and made my hand hurt. I waited a moment or two but nobody came. I hammered again, counted to th...irty and only then did I stop. My hand hurt even more now.A lock rattled, and one of the doors opened. The man who stood there was very tall, his head shaven, a sculpted goatee beard on his chin. He looked as if he had his head on upside down. He peered past me down the street, first one way, and then the other. He looked at me, frowned as if he was puzzled, then looked back along the street.“Funny,” he said. “I thought I heard a knock. But there’s no-one here. You ain’t seen anyone, have you?”“It was me,”MoreLess
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