I could see Heather the moment I walked through the door of the coffee shop and so already I felt as though this day was going to be okay. It was reasonably quiet for a Saturday morning. I had even beat the Boden mums and dads, and I couldn’t hear any child sounds.
A thought occurred to me. What would happen if I swapped drinking out for drinking in? I asked Heather if that would be possible.
‘Of course it is. But I’ll put it in a takeaway cup, just in case you change your mind.’ She gave me a knowing look, and I wasn’t sure whether I should have felt embarrassed or thankful.
I chose a seat next to the window, where I could appreciate the view of the mews with its curtains of trees framing the street like a little stage.
I took a sip of my coffee from the takeaway cup, thankful the ibuprofen had done its job of numbing my headache. I gazed around the mews, trying to relax into the moment; to normalise this novel sensation of just being. I fiddled with a napkin, folding it and unfolding it several times until the seams met just perfectly. There was a general hum of the coffee machine behind me as milk was frothed and beans were blended. I found it almost melodic and momentarily closed my eyes.
I opened them slowly.
My eyeline was automatically drawn to the huge oak tree in the centre of the mews, opposite where I was sat.
I almost didn’t see him.
He blended into the tree at first, in his khaki trousers and green bomber jacket. But it was the black baseball cap that caught my eye and held my gaze. His head was cast downwards, a mobile phone in his hand. I felt the familiar pang of panic, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of anger that coursed through my body. I still wasn’t ready to face him. I stood up quickly and my chair scraped backwards. A few diners turned to look at the commotion I had caused. I turned to the counter, aware of the ruckus and saw Heather look up from behind the counter.
I mouthed, ‘Sorry,’ and headed for the door. If he was engaged in something on his phone, then I might manage to get out without being noticed.
I yanked the door and stepped out into the street. A family of four kids and three dogs walked past me, blocking any view in front of me. When they had passed, I could see the oak tree again. The space where he had stood was now empty.
I looked around the mews, trying to catch a glimpse of the baseball cap. But it was as if he was never there.
I arrived back at the house just as everyone was getting up. Karen and Steve were in the lounge writing up a list of what to buy. I bypassed them and went straight upstairs, where I locked and unlocked the door six times. I went over to the window and repeated the same there. Visions of his face were still fresh in my mind. His stance, his posture. The very essence of his being was not something I would forget in a hurry. Instinctively, I touched my wrists. I could hear the voices of the house rising up the stairway and filtering into the bedroom. The excitement for the evening was building. I should have been downstairs, revelling in excitement and offering my services on Mini’s ever-growing to-do list. The loud trill of the doorbell made me jump and my heart skipped. Then I blew out a long breath and remembered that the chairs were arriving today and that it was probably the delivery guys with the furniture for the summerhouse. I opened and closed the door six times before finally letting myself out and down the stairs.
Karen had already opened the front door and the delivery team were at their van unloading a sofa and chair.
‘It’s probably best to bring them round the back.’ I gestured to them with my hand.
I walked back through the house and unlocked the side gate. I looked around and as no one was about I opened and shut it several more times, I’m not sure how many I was up to when the gate began to move and one of two of the two delivery guys was pushing his way through. He shot me a frustrated look and so I stepped back and allowed him through. He was carrying just the bucket chair. I skipped ahead of him and opened the door to the summerhouse.
‘Just chuck it anywhere.’ I motioned to the empty space.
‘Chuck it? You’ll be suing us for all we got.’
‘Well, then… Place it just here.’ I pointed to a corner I had prepped with a large green sprouting pot plant. I had seen a small table in a retro preloved store a few streets away, and I thought the combo of the three would look smart and classy in the corner. The sofa would sit bang in the middle of the larger window with a long coffee table in front. I felt a hint of pride that I had been able to do something for the house and the girls, as well as putting my stamp on a small area of the vast house we shared. They had all offered to give me something towards it, but I felt I wanted to contribute something to compensate for what I lacked in house mate skills; to make up for my odd and erratic behaviour.
Whilst the delivery guy headed back to the front to bring through the sofa, I took a moment to stand in the garden.
