Billy didn't have time for this. He was stuck behind the bar. What did people take him for? A psychiatrist of some kind? He buffed the bar down, waiting for another round. Oh, he could think of plenty to do other than having to listen to Fletch pour his heart out to him.
"A fine time to think you might be in deep shit now, mate, should have thought before hand. Maybe you wouldn't have a go at the lass then." Billy looked him in the eye as he handed him the lager.
"Lauren won't pick up." Fletch winced as he put his cell back in his pocket.
"Bad karma, I say." Billy gave him a sly smile.
"Don't say that." Fletch shook his head. "It was just an afternoon."
"Yeah, an afternoon of delight, was it?" Billy winked.
"Shut it. You blowing it all out of proportion." Fletch squinted hard. "I was only trying to help."
"Well, I guess you'll just have to fix it." Billy shrugged.
"Yeah, tell the poor ole' bloke what you did with his lass. The truth. You know, so what if it hurts. The truth is best in the end."
"No. I can't." Fletch drank at the lager.
"Careful, this really is driving you to drink. Better watch it, the drugs had you before, now didn't it?" Billy reminded him. Fletch remained straight lipped as he wiped the foam from his mouth. "Best you go home, and just sleep it off. Tomorrow is another day, you know."
Fletch just nodded. He gave Billy a tip. Billy smiled back, feeling confident that his job was done.