Another Cup of Coffee Ch. 01

I stood and stared, my hardest Paddington stare, hands on hips.

"Oh dear, Kat's not happy!" continued the teasing. "A word of wisdom. When at the sales, grab what you like before it's gone. I'll say no more."

Kat pecked me on the cheek and opened her arms. She was that kind of person. Honest, direct but at the same time totally loyal. We embraced, as only friends do, before finishing for the night.

Needless to say I didn't make any move. I guess I was still in the shadow of Jack, after all we were only separated and not divorced, and not ready yet to chance my arm. Or maybe it was just that I had no confidence left in the morality of the male sex. Whatever the reason, I was not looking to move on just yet.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Eventually Summer became Autumn became Winter. I had no idea how many drinks I'd served through the year but it sure was a lot. Christmas would soon be coming, a time I really adored. The decorations, shopping, overindulgence and, most of all, time with loved ones. This year though would be just that bit different. Oh yes the decorations, shopping and overindulgence was still there. It was the time with loved ones which was missing. For once in my life I would be alone for Christmas. It was still a few weeks off though so not really worth worrying about.

Christmas was, after all, a nice time of year and the same was true for the coffee counter. People went through their days with an extra spring in their step, an extra smile and sometimes even an extra tip. It was a time to enjoy and at the same time earn just that little bit extra. We had a general tips bowl which was split evenly between the four of us, but occasionally you would be slipped a little something directly into your pocket. It was then down to you what you decided to do, share or keep.

It was a couple of weeks before the big day when the unimaginable happened. I was serving as usual, most of the regulars having been and gone but the queue was still quite busy with shoppers. I was on auto-pilot not really paying too much attention, serving cappuccino after cappuccino, latte after latte and the odd double espresso. It was so busy though that I did not pay attention to who was coming and going. I just served one drink after another. Every now and again the odd tip was placed in the bowl and I smiled, said thank you but didn't really break away from making drinks.

I served a final double espresso, placed it on the counter and was just about to go to the next order when my hand was taken. I looked up to see Double French smiling down.

"This is for you," he smiled "for the best coffee this side of town. Hope your Christmas is the best ever."

I didn't even have time to say more than a quick thank you before he dashed off in the direction of the platforms, my gaze watching him fade into the distance. I put the notes he'd given me in a pocket to sort out later when it was less busy. The day didn't let up though and I sort of forgot about them until closing time. Once again it was just me and Susie closing up shop. We busied ourselves tidying up and at the same time getting ready for the next day. I bent over to pick up some coffee from under the counter and the notes fell out of my pocket. It was Susie who noticed, picking them up.

"Well, my girl, what have we here?"

"Oh, dunno," I played the innocent "Double French gave it to me earlier."

Susie unwrapped the notes. There were two ten pounds and, neatly folded in the middle, a small piece of paper. She opened it and laughed, finally passing the paper across. It was a neatly handwritten note which I read carefully:

Fancy another cup of coffee?

I'll be at Maxim's on Saturday, 10:00

Love to have you join me

No name, no number, just a note. But not just any note. It was Double French's note.

"Looks like your Christmas has come early my girl." Susie pecked me on the cheek. "Go for it, I'll cover you here."

"I don't know," I replied nervously "I'm not sure it's right."

"Oh Kat," scolded Susie "he's offering you a coffee not his hand in marriage."

"But, men are all the same, only after one thing . . . . " I was cut off mid-excuse.

"Just look at you. You can't take your eyes off him. But now, when he gives you a gilt edged invitation you want to play coy. Pull yourself together girl and take a chance in life. If he is another shit you'll soon know."

That night I pondered . . . what was the right thing to do . . . should I or shouldn't I.

Susie was right, there was something about our Double French, the tall dark stranger with the exotic accent.

But, as they say, once bitten twice shy.

I guess I had a couple of days to make up my mind.

To be continued...