The Surrogate

A Second Chance?

Seb fiddles with his black baseball cap, he's trying to avoid eye contact with anyone and everyone because he's paranoid that people are staring at him.

Holly watches him with mild amusement, he looks quite out of place in this street corner café but the way he keeps fiddling with his baseball cap is only drawing attention to himself. He shifts in his seat, an old blue plastic chair that she feels makes the cheeks of your arse sweat. This café is more greasy spoon than quaint upmarket eaterie but she wanted to avoid anywhere too fancy or Costa or Starbucks and it's less likely he'll get recognised here. "Leave your cap alone," she leans forward, lowering her voice so she can't be overheard, "you'll only make people look at you, you won't get recognised here, that's why I chose the place."

She sits back as the waitress brings their hot drinks; a coffee for her and a mug of tea for him. He lowers his gaze, making the peak of his cap shield his face.

When she's gone, he picks up the laminated menu from its black plastic holder. Holly can't help but observe him as he begins to read it, chuckling to herself as he holds it up higher to try and hide himself. "Is it really so bad if you get recognised?" She whispers to him, making him peek over the top of his menu at her.

"I just don't want the questions and the gossip," he replies before frowning, "is there anything healthy on this menu?"

"Diva," she grins as she reaches over to grab a sachet of sugar for her coffee.

After last night's burger and fries he's got no choice but to go healthy for his breakfast and it looks like scrambled eggs on toast is his only option. He passes the menu over to her, wiping his hands on his jeans afterwards to get rid of the grease he's sure he's got from it. With her busy deciding what to eat he has a quick look around, the place is fairly quiet but then maybe Sunday mornings are quiet here. Just then the door opens and around four women come stumbling in, laughing raucously. They're all wearing short, tight, revealing dresses of varying colours and they're all carrying their shoes instead of wearing them. With messy hair and smudged eye makeup, they've clearly been on an all night drinking bender and have come in here to sober up. One of them lets out an ear splitting squeal of laughter and he lowers his head as they stagger past him, reeking of alcohol. Thank god they didn't notice him.

"Seb, how long are you planning on staying?"

Holly's question makes his eyes dart back to her, she sounds like she's trying to get rid of him - he's not leaving until he absolutely has to, until he's run out of time. He has to persuade her to change her mind first. He risks her wrath by answering, "Not until I've persuaded you to give me another chance."

She wishes she'd never asked now and she sighs, not bothering to reply and going back to looking at her menu. No doubt he'll want to stay another night then.

He takes her silence as progress but also as a sign not to push her further.

"Are you ready to order?" The waitress appears out of nowhere and Seb makes the mistake of looking up at her, "has anyone told you that you look a lot like that Sebastian Vettel guy? You know, the racing driver."

He hears Holly snort with barely concealed laughter from across the table and he politely smiles and then shrugs at the waitress, adopting an English accent and saying, "yeah but he's a lot better looking than me."

Holly's now trying to stifle her giggles which makes him grin, he's making her laugh, this is good and it strokes his ego.

"I'll have scrambled eggs on toast," he adds, still with a near perfect English accent, "brown bread if you have it please."

"I'll have the same, please," Holly adds, keen to get the waitress moved on for his benefit.

The woman walks off, leaving her still giggling while he looks like he wants to run and hide.