Haven's Shell

02|

Sipping his morning homemade coffee, Matthew maneuvered through the bustling Monday crowd, he had decided not to take his car today. It was seven-thirty in the morning and he was in no mood for driving, he wanted to get to the bar, ask for his jacket, return home and rest, simple, he sighed.

Matthew pushed the door open and was met with the familiar shrilling sound of the bell above him, he winced and scowled, this was annoying, he had already woken himself up at six o'clock, such shenanigans were not appreciated. He continued in and sat at a nearby booth hidden from the counter, he had to gather his confidence and wits and also find hope that they hadn't already thrown it away, he gulped. He scanned his surroundings, the bar was scanty, rich men only drank at night.

There were people here and there having coffee and short biscuits, the bar also sold small cakes and coffee, but only in the morning, it was like an angel by day, devil by night.

Matthew blew out a breath as he saw the person he was looking for, he stood and walked up to the counter, and tapped his finger nervously, but his grin not wavering away, he coughed so he could get her attention, she looked at him with a bored expression and motioned for him to speak,
He cleared his throat, "what a lovely morning, isn't it?", he smiled

She wore an amused expression, "hmm, yes, yes, I guess so. Who the hell are you?", she leaned on the counter, Matthew feigned hurt and held his chest
"I'm hurt that you wouldn't know your regulars, looks like we need a better manager around here, don't you think?" he smiled, but she didn't, she just rolled her eyes and looked away from him.

Matthew rolled his own eyes when she looked away, and here he thought he had gathered his wits, but he was here wasting his time with a woman older than him, but he had to, she was the manager, so surely whatever was lost would be brought to her notice...right?

"look uh, mister" she started and he scowled and corrected "Matthew" for God's sake, he didn't like that 'mister' he would accept 'Mr. Matthew' or just 'Matthew', no 'mister'. She didn't seem to care though, she just shot up an eyebrow and continued "yeah...can you tell me what the hell you want, so I can go and have some sleep" she held her annoyed gaze at him.

"my jacket. I left my suit jacket here last night" he went straight to the point
She half-smiled, "what does that have to do with me, Matthew," she said his name with mockery, he fumed but didn't let it show.

"it had a fucking wad of cash in the pocket" he seethed through gritted teeth, he wasn't sure he was supposed to tell anyone that bit of information, but it was too late now, again she half smiled,

"Okay? what does that have to do with me, and mind your language, sir" she again said the last part with mockery, and Matthew gritted his teeth and let out a small growl, before he could say anything else, she spun on her heel and left to back, for a thirty-four-year-old woman, she sure got a lot of time on her hands to infuriate people instead of settle down and get married, he scoffed and sat at the stool beside the counter, he woke up by six o'clock, so leaving here without that jacket wasn't an option.

He scanned his surroundings again, breathing in and out faster than normal, at this point he didn't even know what to cry about, his expensive jacket? the five hundred grand? or his ointment? okay, the ointment was definitely out of the list for now. He sighed again and held his head in his hands, another sigh was about to escape but got stuck in his throat as he heard the noisy bell again, this time he kissed his teeth and turned around to face the door.

A fat man with the typical London handlebar mustache stalked in and headed straight for the counter, while Matthew's eyes followed him all the way. The only thing he saw was money... and this guy sure had a lot of it, the suit he wore hugged his protruding belly well, a gold watch on his wrist and the final icing to the freaking cake, he held a walking stick, Matthew couldn't remember the last time he saw someone carrying a walking stick apart from in movies. The handlebar guy tapped the counter bell lightly and waited, by now Matthew figured out he should stop staring at the man and just looked at him from his side-eye and act natural, although acting natural was the hardest part as he just sat there with nothing to drink or eat, as he had long finished his coffee.