Sometimes sitting at home on the sofa, or in a warm bubble bath or even lying in bed, isn't good enough for her.
She loves to read but the setting has to be right..
The rain pouring down hard outside, crashing on the pavements and jumping from the ground, The noise of bustling people coming in from the wet outside cursing and complaining that the weather was terrible and that there coats hadn't kept them dry, so they were wet though.
The smell of the wet air as its blown in through the doors as they are pushed open and swung shut. The noises of other people talking. Some loud some quite. the rustling of people reading their papers.
The sounds of the people working there, the noises of the coffee machines, the cups clattering.
The lives of other people passing her by, like the lives of her characters in her books.
The smell of the different hot drinks being made, tasted and then finished in the air.
The people she would meet, interesting people of different cultures,and backgrounds. Who would ask her what she was reading then continue to have a conversation with her for the next half hour. Sometimes if she enjoyed there conversations she would buy them another drink, just to talk some more. But that rarely happened.
The walk didn't bother her, a 30 minute walk was a little price she would pay to have that perfect setting.
It may only be a coffee shop to most people But Henry's coffee house in the rain was the perfect setting for her. She hardly went to the place on good days. It had to be a rainy day.
When she sees the rain she grabs her book, gets into her red wellies and comfortable red overcoat and starts on her journey.
Only here will she let herself indulge in a hot chocolate, no other place does a hot chocolate quite as good as this place.
She got to know the full time workers there, and they got to know her. The woman who would only come when it was raining, they knew her order and she almost never had to cue. They would take a hot chocolate and a chocolate muffin to her say the usual pleasantries to each other and then they would leave her to it.
Because this was the perfect setting for her when she wanted to read a book. Sometimes most of the time the books she would bring where as short as 100 or 200 paged books and never leave till she was finished.
This was Scotland, so it wasn't surprising that she was sitting there, rain pouring outside in early July, her red wellies on, in a big wooly cardigan with a book in one hand and her Grande hot chocolate in the other, up by her lips blowing to cool it down.
This was one of those rare days with the rain pouring down on the pavement, no intentions of leaving anytime soon, she had order herself another.
