The Late Night Locksmith

As I lay in bed last night, attempting to sleep, I found I was being disturbed by noises on the landing. I thought that these were 'passers-by', residents going to and from their rooms on other floors. The noises continued, and I gradually began to emerge from the slow sinking into sleep I had hoped for. A girl's voice. The same girl in the bedsit who held a somewhat noisy party a couple of months back. A man';s voice too. I had the feeling that they did not know each other. The sound of drilling and machinery. 'I only stepped out of my room for a second' the girl said, 'turns out to be the most expensive pee I've ever taken'. Other people turned up - from the floors above mine I think. I heard her explaining to them how she had got locked out of her bedsit when she was going to the toilet. They asked her why she had not rung the landlord. I couldn't make out the reply. There was more talk. The locked out girl commented on what transpired to be a locksmith's work 'It looks all very melodramatic'. I think the locksmith grunted. The people from upstairs invited her up to their room for a bit. She seemed to know them and displayed an appropriate level of gratitude. The locksmith continued with his work on the landing; drilling, and now some kind of loud hammering. The work stopped, and I heard him hammering on the door that leads to the upper floors. The girl came down. There must have been an exchange of money. She thanked him. He stomped off down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor, slamming the front door when he left the house. I resumed my attempt to get to sleep.