By Margaret McCoy

Briskly, I packed up everything and exited the scene, frowning at the rain pouring from the sky. It had been a fresh autumn and sunny day when I’d taken the Tube here this morning. Dash it all! I didn’t even think to bring an umbrella. Cursing softly, I prepped myself for the wetness, tugging my coat close around me, intent on calling a taxi in the gloomy weather. 

“Miss!” 

I turned to see a tall Asian man hurrying towards me from within the cafe’s entrance hall. He was handsome: dark brown eyes, gray jumper and trousers, and a blue backwards cap pulled down over his black curls. Cute. I was caught a bit off guard by his outburst. Tucking a stray away strand of hair behind my ear, I adjusted my condensing spectacles.

I answered, “Yes, Love?” Taken by habit due to Sasha, I’d found myself referring to everyone as “Love”. Rather fitting for this young gent. The man blushed at my pet-name and withdrew a hidden umbrella from a shoulder bag.

“Fancy once?” There was a slight English accent in his deep voice. 

I sighed, gazing at the sky. “Yes, I suppose. Thanks, Love.” I took the help from him, the man’s hands slipping into the pockets of his tracksuit. Opening it, I stepped carefully out into the rain, listening to the calming audio of rain pelting the baby-blue nylon. “Will you be alright?”

“I-” 

Suddenly, the cafe’s double doors slammed open and a nasty-looking lad burst out, stains of coffee all over his polo. “Oi! Doll! You forgot somethin’!” He held the blue note that I’d purposely left behind. 

I cringed inwardly, the handsome gentleman now up close beside me protectively, recognizing the situation at hand.