I rather liked it. “All right?” he said. “I nearly froze my bollocks off on the way over here.”
He blew into his cupped hands. “It is rather inclement today,” I agreed, “although it’s wonderful to see the sun.”
He smiled at me. “It is, Eleanor.” I thanked him for taking time off to come and meet me.
It was kind of him, and I told him so. “Away you go, Eleanor,” he said, putting out his cigarette.
Any excuse for a half day. Anyway, it’s nice to talk to someone about something that isn’t software licenses and Windows 10.
“But you love talking about software, Raymond,” I said, sniffing, and then I nudged him in the ribs, very gently, very bravely.
He laughed, and nudged me back. “Guilty as charged, Miss O,” he said.
We went into a branch of a café chain—I’d seen lots of them around town.
We queued, and I asked for a grande mochaccino with extra cream and hazelnut syrup.
The young man asked my name. “Why do you need to know my name?” I said, puzzled.
“We write it on your cup,” he said, “so the drinks don’t get mixed up.” Ridiculous.
“I haven’t heard anyone else order an identical drink to mine, so far,” I said firmly.
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