‘A laugh. My laugh.’
He nodded. ‘Interesting. Are you by any chance related to a farm animal?’
* * *
An hour later, they were in the café; an incongruous mixture of high ceilings and rich decor, with the rather ordinary café tables and counter, drinking coffee. Bella’s feet hummed from standing and walking for such a long time, and she was grateful to give them a break from gravity.
Brad staggered over with a tray: he’d bought them two enormous sandwiches on French bread, alongside the coffee he’d promised.
She was about to say that she hadn’t asked for any food; admonish him for spending his money when it was her who had a debt of gratitude to pay. But then her stomach grumbled loudly enough for them both to hear and she had to admit defeat: she was starving.
Biting into the baguette, her mouth was flooded with a sweet and savoury flavour – not the simple cheese she’d imagined. ‘What is it?’ she asked, her mouth full.
He looked at her. ‘Did your mother never teach you table manners?’ he said, shaking his head in mock reproach. Then, ‘It’s goat’s cheese and honey.’
‘Oh.’ She swallowed. ‘Oh. Wow. Well, it’s nice. Weird, but nice.’
‘Yeah.’ He looked at his dubiously. ‘I kind of panicked when I got to the front of the queue, and the other fillings seemed a bit boring, considering where we are.’
‘What were they?’
‘Cheese and ham. I mean, we’re in a palace, right?’
‘Right.’ She took another bite. ‘Well, this is nice. There’re nuts in it too, right?’
‘Yeah, I think it said walnuts.’
They chewed in silence for a minute or two, letting the hum of other people’s conversation settle around them. Bella thought briefly about work – something that had dominated her thoughts every day for ages – and it was a shock to realise that it was the first time since they came out that she’d thought about it at all. Progress.
Her phone pinged with a message.
Henri
Where are you?
Bella
Just out. With Brad.
Henri
OK. Still coming out later?
Bella
Probably.
He gave a thumbs up and she wasn’t sure whether that was a passive-aggressive move or not. Emojis seemed so loaded these days – apparently skulls were now a sign of humour and the droplets she texted to Kitty last time she went swimming were actually meant to symbolise some sort of bodily secretion.
Thinking of Kitty gave her the familiar pang of guilt. She would ring her as soon as she got home, she resolved.
‘All OK?’ Brad had abandoned his sandwich and was eating a piece of cheese he’d pulled from its centre.
‘Yeah, sorry.’ She turned her phone over to give him her full attention.
‘Henri?’ he asked. ‘Need to head back?’
‘No. He knows I’m busy.’
