De Ja Moo

Susan was early. Not that she'd needed to rush. Patricia was always late, if indeed she turned up at all. If it transpired to be the latter today then Susan was OK with that. There were worse things in life than to be stood up at her favourite café, Jericho. In fact a small part of her hoped that's how it would turn out.

Susan settled at a table for two, next to the condensation fogged windows which obscured her view of the busy street outside. She breathed in the familiar intoxicating aroma of newly ground coffee beans mixed with the freshly baked smells of their signature 'three cheese n chilli' scones. The bohemian rustic charm of the café began to soothe away her tension.

The café door jingled open and the snowy hands of winter ushered Patricia through. Her tall gangly friend quickly spotted her and proceeded to make short work of getting herself settled.

"Oh, the weathers just dreadful outside, isn't it? And the traffic! Thought I'd never get parked. Do you know I've been around the block at least five times before I could get a space. Five times! Surely there's somewhere easier we could have met? Anyway dear, how are you?" Patricia shook the rapidly melting white flakes from her long wisps of greying hair, whilst removing her thick woollen scarf and velvet gloves, before taking her seat.

Susan had counted at least four complaints during the initial greeting. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all. Four was a pretty low tally for Patricia.

She was never certain how genuine the interest was in her own welfare, with Patricia's track record for being so self-absorbed. "I like it in here. Besides parking is bad all over town. That's just how it is at this time of day. We could have met earlier." Conscious that her reply sounded slightly sullen she moved swiftly on. "I've not ordered yet. I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for?" She proffered a copy of the menu only to have it waived away.

"I don't think I'll need that. What do you suggest? Think it's a pot of nettle and blackcurrant tea for me. Those scones look interesting," Patricia flashed her a smile.

Susan noted Patricia hadn't put any make up on again. Her skin looked pale, lips thin and her eyes a little bloodshot. A kind of world-weary look that suggests life was to be endured rather than enjoyed. Patricia had at least put in some ear-rings. A pair of dangly dark wood effect ones that resembled miniature wind chimes. Patricia had once famously announced at a dinner party that she could 'bling with the best of them.' To date, though, there had been no evidence to that effect and Susan had known her for twelve years.

"Is that what you'd like, one of those scones? I'll just order then. Pot of hot water? You've brought your own tea bag as per?" Susan went to the counter leaving Patricia rummaging around in her oversize corduroy shoulder bag. Most of her life must be in that bag, Susan thought. While she waited she resolved to make more of an effort.

"Not be long," she said as she sat back down. "So what's new with you then? How was your Christmas with the family? You must feel so much more rested now after the break. Did David buy you those as a present? They're lovely!" She sat, partially resigned to listening to the inevitable tirade of woe that followed.

"Oh, you know," Patricia rolled her eyes. "It was OK. It's never a holiday is it, visiting family? I did all the cooking as usual. Karen didn't lift a finger the whole time and Mum, well, she just can't do it any more - not for so many." Patricia paused as the drinks were delivered. "To be honest I'm more exhausted than ever, but it's the only time we get to see them. It wouldn't be so bad if we lived nearer but David won't sell. He's just so very stubborn. We argue all the time, so much so I'm just not sure if we even have a future together. But then there's Ryan. I mean what would he do if we split up? He's anxious enough as it is. Did I tell you what a terrible time he's been having at school?" Forlornly Patricia dunked her tea bag into the teapot and gave it a vigorous stir as the steam trickled upward through her bony fingers.