Refuge Part 4

She sat at her usual spot in the bookshop. Papers spread out in front of her as her unfocussed eyes stared off, not into the distance, but into her memory of the evening before. The crowded coffee shop, warm and damp with the influx of shoppers seeking refuge from the rain. The steamed windows and sounds of the spluttering coffee machine.

She thought back over the events of that unexpected meeting between them and laughed when she remembered his appearance when he arrived at the table hoping to share it with her and of his awkward attempts at making small talk. She knew she had not made it easy for him, she never made it easy for people to get to know her, but he seemed different. Like she could trust him if she let herself. She had toyed with him a while and somehow found some amusement in his discomfort. She got the impression that this was uncharted territory for him, that ordinarily he was self assured and at ease speaking with new people.

The ballpoint pen she had been twirling between her fingers slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. She woke from her daydream and bent to pick it up. As she straightened in her chair, she said to herself 'enough of that, get on with it' and she turned her attention to the papers in front of her.

'Coffee, Evie?' The voice rang out from behind the cash desk. It was Millie, the manager of the bookshop.

'Yes, please' she replied over her shoulder.

As the mug was placed to the side of her, avoiding the papers, she added 'I don't know what's wrong with me today, I just can't concentrate, but these books won't do themselves'

'Maybe it has something to do with a certain drowned rat you met yesterday...' Suggested Millie.

'Oh, don't be silly' She dismissed the comment, but knew it was true. He was on her mind and it was distracting her.

'Oh, come on Evie, tall and dark.. and hot by the sounds of it – you never notice men, you certainly never tell me about it If you do. He made an impression on you, admit it'

'OK, maybe he did' she said grudgingly. Millie knew her too well. She was one of the only people that knew her at all.

'So call him, you have his number' Millie encouraged.

'No, I don't think so, he probably forgot all about me by the time he got home'

'Well, maybe he will call you...?'

'I don't give my number out, you know that'

'Well I know you don't normally, but you were talking for ages. I can't believe you didn't give him your number!' Millie said in frustration.

'Anyway, what do you care? What's it to you if I never see him again?'

'I'm the one that's got to put up with you, aren't I'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Evie asked snappily

'It means, I have to watch you, all alone on the outskirts of everything never letting anyone get close to you'.

'I let you get close didn't I? - now I'm bloody stuck with you, like a parrot on my shoulder, ever reminding me of how alone I am!' she exclaimed, only half joking.

Out of the pocket of the coat she had hung on the back of her chair, she pulled a scrap of paper. On it was written 'Dan' and a series of numbers that made up a telephone number. She considered it for a moment and shoved it back in the pocket. She picked up her coffee, took a sip and winced, it had gone cold.

Refuge Part 3

She looked up. Something had interrupted her, she saw a man dripping from head to toe standing by the table. He asked 'Is this seat taken?' and she thought about saying no so that she could continue reading in peace, she flicked her eyes around the room and her conscience got the better of her, there was nowhere else to sit, so she motioned for him to take a seat. She prayed that he wasn't a talker, she really didn't want to have to make small talk with strangers today.

'Would you keep an eye on this for me?' He asked, pointing at his coffee cup. She nodded and smiled pleasantly. He came back five minutes later. He had obviously been to the men's room to try and dry off a little, his hair was now dry and stuck up messily and his jeans had dry patches on the thighs where he had aimed the hand dryer at them to remove some of the water.

'That's better, I guess I don't need to tell you its still raining out there!'

She smiled her response, she didn't want to be rude, but she didn't want to start a conversation either. She looked back into her book, hoping he would take the hint.

As she reached the end of her chapter, she looked up to glance around the room, her eyes came back to him. He had taken his watch off and was examining it. She attempted to carry on reading but she was distracted by him now. He tinkered with his watch, unaware of her gaze. She had not paid much attention to him till now and she took in his strong features and three day growth on his chin. His brow furrowed as he was thoughtfully puzzling over the time piece. He held it up to his ear to hear it tick and his eyes met hers

'not water proof' he said with a grimace.

'Oh, is it OK?' she said in concern. Her own response taking her by surprise. She avoided talking to strangers if she could help it, it was often safer that way.

'Still ticking' he said. Then, 'I hope it will be OK… when it dries out properly. I don't think I can say the same for this' he said, indicating his ruined pullover.

She gave a sympathetic half smile as she looked at the oversized garment, still damp and clinging to his shoulders and chest, emphasising their shape and tone. He took a drink and said 'I'm sorry, I'm disturbing you, I'll let you get back to your book'.

'No,' she said, 'its OK.'

Ordinarily she would have said the same just to be polite, but she found, this time, she actually meant it.

Refuge Part 2

He walked along the high street, the sky had turned a deep grey under the weight of the gathering cloud. It had been a bright and mild autumn afternoon when he left home and so he was somewhat unprepared for the rain which, by the look of the sky, now seemed inevitable. He continued along heading toward the bookshop when he heard the first peal of thunder. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, if he carried on to the nearest refuge he could well get caught in the coming storm, if he turned back to his car, parked at the multi storey, he would also get a soaking. He quickly decided to head to the coffee shop, and with a loud crack of lightening followed by another clap of thunder, he did so at a run.

By the time he was two doors away from shelter, the rain had come and every inch of him was dripping wet. The well fitting woollen pullover he had chosen to wear in the morning was now stretching under the weight of the water it had absorbed and was several sizes too big. The bottom of the jumper now reached his knees and the arms were dangling well past his hands. The trainers he had put on were no protection for his feet and he could feel his wet socks sliding around as he walked. He opened the door to the coffee shop and found that most of the people out shopping had had the same idea as him and were now forming a long queue at the counter. As he stepped inside and squelched to the back of the queue, several people noticed him, and with amused looks, thought themselves thankful that they had paid heed to the weather forecast for that day.

As he waited he could feel the trickle of water through is hair making his scalp itch and beginning to run out of his hairline and down his face. He really hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long, there were not many tables left and he would like to sit down in a corner somewhere out of the way. He felt rather silly standing there in his stretched out clothes dripping everywhere. He was hoping the money in his wallet stowed in his back pocket had survived the drenching but he couldn't bring himself to think about his wrist watch.

Refuge

It was late afternoon and she sat at the small table in the window of the over crowded coffee shop. The fading light shone through the window and gently highlighted the outer edge of her face giving an ethereal illumination to her pale, elven features. The steam from the hot coffee on the table in front of her rose like two wavering stands weaving and entwining in the warm breeze that came from the air conditioning unit above the front door of the shop. The door opened and closed at rapid intervals as more drenched passers by sought refuge from the downpour outside.

Her long hair was drying naturally in the warmth and was now falling in loose curls around her face. Her dark brows were nipped in a tight frown of concentration as she fully submerged herself in her reading material. A good book was always to be found in her oversized handbag. She often used reading as a way of being alone without actually being alone, as though the words were being spoken to her by a friend or acquaintance rather than written on the pages.

She had crossed her long legs when she first sat down and she now found that she needed to shift in her seat to allow the circulation to be restored to her toes, which were now going numb inside her heavy black winter boots. As she uncrossed, the toe of her moving leg caught the shaft of the umbrella that she had rested against the leg of the table to drip dry and it clattered to the floor, spraying droplets of rainwater onto the pushchair that had been parked in the gap between her and the neighbouring table. She looked up, momentarily surprised. The falling umbrella had disturbed her focus on the alternate reality within the pages of the book.

She scanned the long curving queue along the length of the varnished oak counter at the back of the shop and she could hear the sound of the coffee machine chugging and spluttering into life as the staff were making cappuccinos, lattes and macchiatos. People were still arriving, dripping wet from the deluge outside, and were awaiting hot beverages, ordered in the hope that the heat from the hot liquid would somehow transfer to their sodden clothes and hair and dry them out. The air inside the shop was becoming damp now with all the wet clothing gathering around the small tables and this was condensing on the windows, steaming them up against the now dark evening.

A thick dark curl of hair, now dry, slid down across her face and tickled her nose and she absently took it between her fingers and wedged it behind her ear to keep it out of her eyes. She continued to read, aware that time was moving on and it was well into the evening. She hoped she would not have to continue taking shelter here for much longer.