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'Why, hello Dex, nice to meet you,' and she held out her hand to shake his. Dex pulled a fluff covered sausage roll from his pocket and  plonked it in her hand. '

Petrel laughed, it was such a lovely melodic laugh, so unlike Trixie's donkey bray, Dex thought.

'I think you'll find that's called a sausage roll, Dex, a sausage has no pastry .....circumcised as it were.'

Dex tried to ....

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Conceal his embarrassment, to do so his legs needed to be crossed..yes, after all Petrel was stunning.

"Well my view about crime" Dex said

"I did a criminology degree in Seychelles" piped up sultry Petrel.

"Hmmm..seashells and crime don't mix " said Dex.

Petrel emitted a groan laugh..it was the third time since,Oct 2010 she had heard such humour.

Dex got along swimmingly with Petrel, and he said

"Meet you tomorrow in the Fox and Furrow..7 o'clock

"Great" said a tired Petrel.

7@m, Sunday. A forlorn Petrel waits, freezing, outside the pub. After half an hour she goes home. "I even brought my jogging gear " she said, woebegone.

715pm, Dex awaits......

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Petrel's arrival with barely supressed impatience. Glancing at his watch at about 30 second intervals, the time drags on. Still no Petrel and it's getting very cold now. Dex shivers in his trench coat and unsuccessfully tries to pull his fedora over his numb ears. His thoughts about the reliability of women again take on a cynical and pessimistic turn. At 9.03 pm he decides .............

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'Yes, I know Petrel, it sucks to be stood up, but maybe something happened. He could have had an accident, he might have stepped out in front of a double decker or fallen down a manhole or been abducted by slave traders. You'd never know these days!'

'You're right!! I think we should check the local hospitals, he may have amnesia!'

Petrel rushed out the door crashing straight into Dex. As they were of similar height, their heads collided with a rather sickening thunk kind of noise rendering them both ............

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Dazed, yet happy..at least Dex was..to see one another.

Petrel was annoyed"Dexter, promise me this..never again must you stand a girl down..or up..it disappointed me massive amounts" she intoned, her eyes brown and fierce.

"When a man in England mentions a pub, he means night, not before sunrise" , intoned Dex , with the manner of someone who has been done a disservice somewhere along the line.

"Come to the pub Petronia?" Dex ventured, kind and meek.

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Dex .....meek??? Poppy staggered back a couple of steps and only narrowly missed standing on Shanti's tail. Her mouth gaped in a way rather reminiscent of a goldfish out of water.

'Well, all will be forgiven if you shout me a couple of Margarita's or don't you have something called Sex on the Beach?' asked Petrel innocently.

"Ahem, bit cold for that tonight, m'dear, perhaps some other time.'

'They use a lot of ice do they?'

Dex was beginning to lose the thread of the conversation.

Edited by poppy
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...And he was not the only one!You see, Dex had , he thought, a difficult task ahead...how to woo Petrel. I mean, he could take her to the cinema, to London zoo, the Strand, Soho..hmm..much of interest there, he mused reflectively.

"And who's Petronia?" asked Petrel, with an air of wounded dignity coupled with propriety.

"Err my mistake Petrel, after all, these foreign names, I mean, beautiful girls etc but....

Edited by itsmeagain
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it rather has the effect of making names go clean out of one's mind. So tell me Petrel, what do you do back home? A model perhaps?' Petrel laughed that laugh that Dex found so attractive.

'No, you flatter me, I'm a private investigator.'

It was Dex's turn to ...........

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Be fearful...very fearful. Thoughts of a Mr Ondury, after all, Dex knew he wanted to see him about an incident which occurred a while ago. "Tell me about your work. Are you, ahem, on a mission here in London?" asked Dex , inquisitively.

"No , this is education and amusement" remarked Petrel, giving the bodybuilder at the bar the glad eye.

"Peanut?" enquired Dex, musing thoughtfully on issues of identity, nationality, culture, indeed he was...

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so preoccupied that instead of a bowl of peanuts, he handed her an ashtray.

Petrel looked at him a little strangely and shook her head, 'No thanks, I don't.'

Dex took a butt and chewed on it abstractedly, thinking he'd have a quiet word with the bartender later about the staleness of his peanuts. Places like this appreciated a little helpful feedback he always thought.

Dragging himself back into the here and now he asked Petrel, 'So what do you like to do for ............

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Fun?"

"Well I listen to music, go country walking, visit stately homes" replied Petrel , with a hinting type of vibe associated with her comment.

"I like football n crime books" commented Dex indifferently.

Petrel thought hey this is going to be a long evening. She asked

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if he'd ever been out of the country.

'South Africa,' replied Dex, 'would you like me to tell you about it?'

It sounded a bit more exciting than football, and crime novels would really just be a busman's holiday for a PI.

'Sure. Did you fly?'

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"That's one means of describing it" replied Dex enigmatically,"@nd a fellow reader, itsme', and a fellow reader, poppy. We all ended up there due to itsme' being on a mission..take a lion home or something."

Petrel was curious"So poppy and itsme', well I know both of them, I never knew they had had such interesting times."

"Oh aye, poppy is....

Edited by itsmeagain
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In the ointment, in your soup, and on the wall, all rolled into one. Indeed itsme' is so fly that if he flew over the rooftops then you would truly never know it."

"Tell me about you then Dex, and I have been thinking...I need to make a phone call...yes, Dennis Onduty please" she mouthed into the phone.

Dex gulped.

Edited by itsmeagain
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A flash mob of Judas Priest Fans,not one to disapoint dex broke into his favourite current track, I have no face , I have no mind, I have no senses left, You see I'm blind.

Which was lucky as he crowd surfed...

Edited by dex
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Standing before a pile of bricks, a mass of screaming rock fans stumbling around after the wall collapsed.

Back at the pub, Petrel told the 87 yr old private detective boss, Dennis Onduty, that she had completed the latest assignment as planned, and all was hunky dory.

"My son Dennis tells me......that things are looking good in the London police these days..after all, I like to see crime free spaces, it is good for the soul..Goodbye Petrel".

Dex, reeling from inhaling brick powder, hailed a yellow cab.

Edited by itsmeagain
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It drove straight on by. It might have had something to do with the fact he looked like he'd just spent a long, hard day in an Australian open cast mine. Petrel came outside to see what all the rumpus was about and despite the dust, recognised Dex. She started to pat him down, which Dex unfortunately mistook for ........ 

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'Hold still, for goodness sake, you're as frisky as a steer with a warble fly up it's bum, I'm just trying to knock some of the dust off you. Whatever have you been doing with yourself?'

'I thought you were going to arrest me. Weren't you just talking to Dennis Onduty?' Dex asked nervously.

'Yes. So what?' Petrel was ...........

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