Task 22; A Cafe.

An author and her middle aged publisher sit in a London Cafe, drinking coffee and flicking through manuscripts.

Mrs Thane: So, do you like it?
Tory: It’s, different.
Mrs Thane: Different?
Tory: Different from the last one.
Mrs Thane: The whole concept was the capture the reader and to explain the ending in the last book. I mean, I understood the last book sold quite a few-
Tory: (chuckles) Great cafe by the way.
Mrs Thane: Great, cafe?
Tory: I mean, you’ve only lived in London for what, five years?
Mrs Thane: Yes but-
Tory: My aunt has lived in London for fifteen years, and she hasn’t the bloody foggiest idea where the City Airport is. You’re good.
Mrs Thane: (Leans towards Tory) Thank you, Tory. But I really don’t see what this has to do with my book.
Tory: Y’see that lady across the road there with the buggy?
Mrs Thane: (Sits back, hesitantly) Yes.
Tory: She’s a single mother, probably twenty five years old. Unable to keep herself and her child stable, she’s out looking for work, wondering where to start and when she’ll finish.
Mrs Thane: Right, a game! I love games. (Smiles) Man in a blue coat at the bus stop. He’s got a satchel, and he’s grey haired. He looks stressed. Teacher? (Shrugs shoulders)
Tory: (Shakes head) You should try the strawberry pavlova here, delicious.
Mrs Thane: You’ve been here before?
Tory: My mother. She used to take me to places.
Mrs Thane: She used to? What happened to her?
Tory: You ask a lot of questions.
Mrs Thane: My husband went out a lot.
(Long pause)
Tory: She had a heart attack.
Mrs Thane: Sorry.
Tory: Why London?
Mrs Thane: Because Cardiff was too beautiful. (Stares out of the window) Why publishing?
Tory: Seeing as I never knew what else was right for me, and I like to read. (Grins) And there was this girl.
Mrs Thane: Was she, blonde?
Tory: Not intending to be sarcastic Mrs T, but have you looked in the mirror lately?
Mrs Thane: Intention excused. (Smiles)
Tory: Nice to see you smile. Here. (Passes a croissant from the table)
Mrs Thane: Thanks.
Tory: You ever been to France?
Mrs Thane: I can speak French.
Tory: Vraiment?
Mrs Thane: Really.
Tory: About your book.
Mrs Thane: Okay.
Tory: Yes.
Mrs Thane: Is that a yes for publication?
Tory: No. It’s a yes for whether I liked the story or not.
Mrs Thane: So, now what?
Tory: Now I take it home and go through it with a fine tooth comb, see if I can get a few people’s thoughts and ideas.
Mrs Thane: Alright.
Tory: Okay.
Mrs Thane: Thanks for seeing me so quickly. I mean, Michael was a great publisher, but since he died, I mean, I thought I might as well try and find another from the same firm.
Tory: Yep.
Mrs Thane: Was the last one better then?
Tory: Maybe.
Mrs Thane: You’ve read it right?
Tory: Of course I have. (Smiles warmly)
Mrs Thane: Better be off then. (Gets up) Call me when you’re done, please.
Tory: Will do.
(She walks away)
Tory: Shame. Michael would have been proud.
(He gets up, leaving the manuscript and his full cup of coffee on the table.)