The woman who I sketched here last Friday is back. How delightful. This time she sits and eats her breakfast with a black-shirted man. Their conversation is earnest and she’s very pretty when she smiles. She looks more relaxed this week, in a black t-shirt and trainers.
The couple of elderly ladies who were sitting next to me earlier were discussing the antique fair I missed yesterday. One of them had the most heavy-gorgeous gold ring with red stones set along it. I complimented her on it and she smiled and said that it was not an expensive one, but that I was a “good girl. A good girl.”
Their space has now been taken by a couple of Uni students. Friends; she with a loud, girly laugh that compliments her pink and green flowered scarf and he who is playing a university sport game against a team of professionals called “The Penguins” next Tuesday. He has the build of a rugby player. Or possibly ice hockey.
A father had just come in with his pink-spotty-suited little girl in a pushchair. The bored looking business man sitting next to me with his laptop cracked a smile for the first time since he came in here. Now he’s distracted; even his checked shirt can’t hide the sudden paternal tendencies hiding behind his laptop screen and glasses. He glances over at the chuckling little girl and smiles again. He’s finding it hard to concentrate on his work. He mouths the words and points at the screen, his movements suddenly flamboyant in his attempts not to be distracted.
The father’s youngish, and this child is his first. He sits on the sofa with her on his lap and drinks his coffee while she rattles her toy and sucks at the rounded plastic. The waitresses lean over the chair back opposite to say hello and send delighted glances and meaningless cooings at his daughter. It’s funny how children can do that. She has the cutest smile.
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