I don’t know what to do. Are you hurt? Are you ill? Hungry.
I don’t know what to do. Please don’t cry. There isn’t anything to eat.
Mummy will be back soon. Where’s Mummy?
My hand was shaking as I picked up my coffee cup, and I breathed as slowly as I could, staring at the tabletop.
The crying ceased. I looked up and saw the baby, lying quietly in his mother’s arms now as she covered his face with kisses.
I breathed out. My heart soared for him.
When Raymond returned, I paid for lunch, since he had paid last time; I was really starting to get the hang of the concept of a payment schedule.
He insisted on leaving the tip, however. Five pounds!
All the man had done was carry our food from the kitchen to the table, a job for which he was already being recompensed by the café owner.
Raymond was reckless and profligateno wonder he couldn’t afford proper shoes or an iron.
We walked back slowly to the office, and Raymond told me in detail about some computer server issue
that I did not understand (and didn’t particularly care to) that he would have to deal with that afternoon.
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