hugs I’d been receiving.
‘Good to meet you. I’m Ced. Welcome to Java’s Crypt. What can I get you?’
‘We’ll have two of your Peruvian filter coffees please,’ Lizzie smiled.
‘Cool. Listen, find a booth and I’ll bring it over.’
‘Come here often?’ I whispered to Lizzie when we were sitting down. ‘I didn’t have you pegged as a Goth.’
She laughed. ‘I’m not – as most of the customers in here aren’t. Ced’s wife Autumn is one of my piano students. And they’re good friends.’
Five minutes later, Ced arrived with our coffee, together with a huge slice of white and dark chocolate-swirled baked cheesecake. ‘From Autumn,’ he explained, sitting next to Lizzie. ‘She said she’d been telling you about it?’
Lizzie’s expression was one of pure joy and I had to laugh despite my slight unease in Ced’s company. ‘She did! We spent most of last week’s lesson talking about this amazing recipe.’
‘Your weapons of choice, ladies.’ Ced produced two forks and presented them to us. ‘So, Nell, how long are you visiting for?’
‘Eight weeks.’
He seemed impressed by this. ‘Big US adventure, huh?’
I took a forkful of delicious cheesecake and nodded. ‘Something like that.’
‘Nell just lost her job in the UK, so she’s come out here to have fun,’ Lizzie offered, which surprised me. I must have been staring at her because her smile suddenly vanished. ‘Sorry hun. But that is why you’re here.’
‘It’s fine, I’m just –’ I looked at Ced. ‘Forgive me. I’m still getting used to how forward everyone is here.’
The Goth smiled. ‘It’s cool. And hey, good call. I’m in this city because I lost my job, actually.’
‘You are?’
He nodded. ‘Ten years ago this July. Believe it or not I used to be a lawyer in New York City.’
The thought of Ced as a suited lawyer was incredible, given his appearance. ‘Wow.’
He waved a pale hand. ‘It’s OK, Nell, you have my permission to laugh. I find it hilarious myself. Hard to believe I was the golden boy of Jefferson Jones and Associates on Wall Street for two years. Golden in more ways than one, actually. This,’ he wound a strand of jet-black hair around his fingers, ‘is, unsurprisingly, not my natural colour.’
His dry sense of humour made me smile and I began to relax a little. ‘I like it,’ I replied. ‘How come you ended up in San Francisco?’
‘I got fired. For nothing more than the fact that one of the partners decided to hate me. And that was it for law and me. I walked around Central Park for hours, thinking about how much of my life I’d given to my career – and how fruitless it had proved to be. So, I made a decision. I quit my apartment, trashed my business suits and moved to the West Coast with one suitcase and my guitar. I busked around for a while, met Autumn at a beach gig in Santa Monica, we settled here and within two years I’d opened Java’s Crypt.’
I was amazed by his story but also encouraged that he had achieved so much from such inauspicious beginnings. If it had happened for Ced, could it happen for me? ‘That’s really good to hear.’
‘This town is a place for adventurers, Nell. There ain’t nothing you can’t do here if you work hard at it.’
As we were speaking one of the homeless men Lizzie and I had encountered that morning entered the coffee shop. I felt every muscle tense in my shoulders: in London this situation usually was a precursor to an ugly scene. Calmly, Ced left our table and walked over to greet the man.
‘Hey brother, what can I do for ya?’
‘You got any coffee on hold?’ the man asked, his voice gruff and low.
‘Sure, man. Come over to the bar.’
I watched as the man accompanied Ced to the counter, where the coffee shop owner made him a large coffee. Thanking Ced, the man shuffled out, tipping his baseball cap to us as he went. I turned to Lizzie, confused by what I’d seen.
‘What just happened?’
Lizzie smiled. ‘That happens a lot here. People buy a coffee to take out and one “suspended”. It then means that when the homeless guys come in they have a drink already paid for. It doesn’t happen everywhere, but it’s something Ced has always done since he opened this place.’
I was quickly learning that this was a city that made no bones about itself. Everything was presented just as it was – good and bad, beautiful and not-so-attractive. It was brash and bold and would definitely take some getting used to.
By the time we returned to Lizzie’s apartment I felt as if I’d gone eight rounds with a heavyweight boxer. Succumbing to the jetlag still pummelling my body, I slept for another couple of hours and when I woke I checked my emails, the familiar task comforting. And then I don’t know why, but I clicked on the latest email from Aidan. Despite my best efforts earlier that day to convince myself I didn’t want to hear from him, the temptation to know what he had to say was too great. As soon as I opened it, however, I wished I hadn’t:
From: [email protected]
Subject: Nell – please read this
Nell
I feel terrible. I wish we could talk so I could tell you all this in person. But you won’t return my calls and seem to have disappeared off the face of the planet, so this is the best I can do.
I hated giving you the news about your job and I hated even more that you left before I had a chance to explain.
I fought for you, honestly I did. I tried everything I could to save your job. But I couldn’t change their minds. And now the office is like a morgue and you’re not here. And I miss you.
I know I was an idiot to say what I said about us. But it’s still true. Being without you for the past week has only strengthened how I feel. I love you, Nell. I’m going to email you every day until I get an answer. Because I know you feel it too.
You’re angry now – I get that. But look in your heart. Can you honestly say you don’t want us to be together?
We’ve been through too much for this not to happen. I’m not giving up on us.
I love you.
Aidan xx
Angrily, I logged out. I didn’t want to know that Aidan was hurting too and I certainly didn’t want to feel the glimmer of hope it gave me. Suddenly I was stuck in limbo between the newness of San Francisco that I didn’t yet feel a part of and the aspects of my old life I was trying to leave. I decided to ignore the other messages waiting unread in my inbox. Reading any more of Aidan’s words while I was here wouldn’t solve anything, only leave me with
