The Arms of Morpheus

Chapter 19

Business was brisk at the Café Verdi. Amelia sat, looking at the bustling street through the large plate glass window, admiring the small painted bouquets connected by swirling lines of red and gold that rendered the outline of the Italian coast. A real taste of Italy in the centre of Cambridge, even though she knew the owner was from Surrey.

It was a place she used often, enjoying the atmosphere created by the eclectic customers it enticed. Old and new; students and masters. Until recently, the smell of cannabis resin would waft around the room, giving Amelia an excuse to sit, drink coffee and inhale the smoke until the manager removed the perpetrator from the premises. A student of course. Inwardly, she feigned innocence, claiming to be unaware of its presence. Her dirty little secret.

Now, in these sterile times, she had to content herself with the kick she derived from the caffeine in her caffé doppio.

The location of the café was perfect for her rendezvous, being only a ten minute walk from Trinity. It was why she and Rufus had spent so many hours here, mulling over problems and generally watching the world pass by.

She had called him earlier that morning, realising that he was the only person she could genuinely trust. She had often asked for his advice in the past, on more trivial matters, his counsel always sensible and logical, never judgmental or patronising. It was exactly what she needed right now.

She had agreed to meet him at the café around noon, telling him it was urgent. He had agreed immediately, offering to bring his wife with him, but Amelia had been adamant that Claudia could not attend; this was for his ears only. The last thing she needed now was for Blake's godmother to think she was losing her mind.

Amelia's odd request had piqued his interest, but he had granted it, assuring her he would not tell Claudia. His assurity was enough for Amelia; she trusted him implicitly.

Looking through the painted glass, she saw Rufus cross the road, making his way hurriedly through the rain towards her. A black, leather laptop bag hung from his shoulder and he held a newspaper above his head, like a makeshift hat. His stride was purposeful with a hint of awkwardness, giving him a delicate, human quality that Amelia had always found endearing.

A small bell above the door alerted the owner to his presence.

'Professor Drake, how wonderful to see you!' The man's Italian accent was inflected with a cockney twang. 'Miss. Jarvis is waiting for you at your usual table. Please, I will bring over a menu for you.'

He pointed the way for Rufus, as though he had not visited the place before. Politely smiling, Rufus hurried in.

'Amelia, are you alright?' He began the conversation before sitting down, anxious to find out the reasoning behind the covert meeting.

She placed her hand on top of his.

'Calm down Rufus, everything's fine. Well not fine, but, you know.'

'So what's going on? Why didn't you want Claudia here, has she said something to you?' He sat, the wooden legs of the chair screeching against the flagstone floor as he settled.

'No. I just needed to talk to you alone.' She summoned the waiter. 'Shall we order some food first? I'm famished.'

Rufus looked at her, realising the ordering of food was merely a delaying tactic.

Amelia browsed the menu, making lunch feel as normal as possible. 'I wonder what the special is today. Apparently the fish is rather good at the moment.'

'Amelia –'

'The pasta's always excellent too. So much choice.'

'Amelia, you can't pretend -'