“This is the shittest cafe I have ever been in,” says Molly as she places her newspaper under her bottom before sitting down on the wooden bench. “I am not surprised you’ve never brought me here before.”

    I lazily scan the dog-eared menu, “Don’t knock it. The National Trust have got their eyes on this place.”

    “Really,” says Molly, “is that a fact?”

    “Absolutely,” I say. I hand the menu to Molly, “Anyway, what do you feel like?”

    An appalled expression contorts her face as she reads the admittedly limited offerings, “Actually I’d quite like to go and be sick.” She looks across the table towards me, “You didn’t honestly expect that I would eat any of the tat on this did you?”

    “I just thought it would be a nice change for you to lower your standards and come hang out with the hoi polloi.”

     Someone at a table of chubbies in luminous waistcoats drops their guts and it’s received with laughs all round. I have to casually pretend to stifle a yawn so I don’t laugh too. Molly turns to glare at them for a second and when one of them winks she flicks back all flushed and plays with her hair.

     “Just order something quickly,” she says through gritted teeth.

     “Okay,” I say, and catch the eye of the sixty year old owner, Candice. She comes over to our table.

     “Haven’t seen you in here for a while,” says Candice.

      “I know,” I say. “I’ve been scuba diving.”

     Candice nods; I’m not actually sure she knows what scuba diving is.

     “What you having?” she asks.

     ”Tea and breakfast roll, please,” I say.

     Candice nods towards Molly, “And what about your bird?”

     Molly looks like she is trying to make her eyeballs fire lasers at Candice.

     I cough politely, “My girlfriend will have a black coffee.”

     Molly’s lasers swing in my direction. She mouths ‘your girlfriend?’  at me and I give her a wink.

      “That’s it?” asks Candice.

     I lean in towards Candice, “She’s trying to watch her figure. Poor old cow thinks she looks like a sack of coal.”

     Candice aaahs in understanding and turns to face Molly and looks her up and down, “I don’t know what you’re whingeing about, luv. I’d shag you…if I could remember what to do. And if I was a lesbian.”

     She walks off and Molly looks like she’s about to pebble-dash the table.

     “Get me out of here,” mutters Molly through gritted teeth.

     “Relax,” I say. “What are you so uptight about? Have you and Randolph had a row?”

     Molly’s shoulders sag, “No, we haven’t had a row.”

     “So what’s the problem?”

     She shrugs, “I’m just totally disillusioned with my life.”

     “Aren’t we all?” I say. I know I am.

     “I wanted so much more out of my life. I think Randolph is too good for me.”

     “That’s not true at all,” I say, because it isn’t.

     “Well,” says Molly, “whatever.”

     Candice chugs over and slops our drinks and my breakfast roll on the table and leaves, but not before giving Molly the once over again. Molly places her head directly above her cup and peers into the black gloop.

     “Is this leaded or unleaded?” she asks.

     ”You should just cheer up,” I say, stirring my tea. “Anything is possible. Look at Murray.”

     “Is he still dating that porn star?”

     “You bet he is. They’re in Brazil right now. He’s having the time of his life.”

     “Good for him, I suppose,” says Molly.

     I see Roper entering the cafe and catch his eye. He comes over and sits next to me.

     “Hey, Roper,” says Molly sullenly, “still stealing stuff from work?”

     “No, actually,” says Roper, “I’ve discovered a new hobby to distract me.”

     “What hobby is this?” I ask.

     Roper rolls his shirt sleeves up under his sports jacket, “I’ve started smoking weed.”

     He grins at me and Molly.

     “Why?” asks Molly in disgust. “Why start smoking weed? Especially now. You should have sampled it all years ago when you’re supposed to. Not start now at your age. Yoooouuuu….prick.”

      “I’m not that old,” says Roper defensively. “Anyway, I actually find it quite therapeutic, especially when Gussie wants one of her rows. I find I can cope better with one of her nuclear winters if I can’t stop giggling all the way through it.”

     I nod to Molly, “He does have a point. I don’t think I could sit through one of her tirades unless I had a couple of hyperdermic needles hanging out of my arse.”

     “That’s not the point,” says Molly. “Listen, Roper. I went to college with stoners who didn’t just do it at parties; they did it every single day and they became the most boring, arse-testing cretins you could possibly  imagine.”

     Roper gives a thousand yard stare, “I’d love to receive oral sex while stoned. I reckon that would be alright. Not sure I could reciprocate though.”

     Candice comes over, “Tea, Roper?”

     Roper is pulled back into reality, “Er…yes. Thank you, Candice.”

     Candice nods and plods back behind the counter and fetches him a cup of lukewarm radiator fluid.

     Molly takes a sip of her coffee and dribbles it back into the cup. She looks up at the both of us, “You two had better drink your teas fast. I’m beginning to feel things latching themselves onto my skin.”

     “I saw Ruff’s band play on Friday,” says Roper. He turns to me. “He noticed that you failed to show yet again.”

     “I know,” I say, playing with my cup, “I forgot. What are they called now?”

     Roper scratches his forehead and then examines his fingernails, “Er…Colonic Tonic.”

     “Are they ever going to settle on a band name?” asks Molly.

     “I doubt it,” I say. “Actually, I quite like the idea of a band that keeps changing their moniker. It means their fan base have to work that little bit harder to be their fan base.”

     Roper stirs his tea with his thumb, “I would have liked to have been famous.”

     Molly laughs unintentionally but manages to stop herself, “You? What the hell could you be famous for?”

     “Well,” I say, “he does have the worst girlfriend in the world.”

     “Gussie’s not that bad,” pipes Roper.

     “Next to Gussie, syphillis is ‘not that bad’.”

     Roper igores me, “I reckon I could be a famous explorer. Or a horticulturalist.”

     “Keep on aiming for the skies, Roper, ” says Molly. She looks at her watch, “Come on.”

     “What’s the big rush?” I ask.

     “I’m meeting Meredith.”

     “The hairdresser from Slutzcutz?”

     “The very same. You want to come?”

     I look at my watch, “Okay, I’ll take my breakfast roll with me. You coming Roper?”

     Roper grunts an affirmative and he and I finish our teas. I pay Candice and we exit into the relative fresh air of the high street. After a few minutes Molly taps my arm.

      “Oh, ” she says, “I should warn you. You have some explaining to do when we get to Slutzcutz.”

     I give her a puzzled look; you know, the one where you try to make your eyebrows touch.

     “Why?” I ask.

     ”Meredith passed you in the street the other day and she said hello and you just blanked her and walked right past her.”

     “Ohhhh,” I groan, “I’m always doing that. I just don’t notice anything when I’m walking. That’s why I failed my interview for MI6. I’ll explain it to her.”

     Roper chuckles, “You know, you do always do that! You walked right past me two weeks ago when I was coming out of the Post Office. I called out to you and waved but you just didn’t see me.”

    I place a hand on Roper’s shoulder, “No, I did see you. I was just ignoring you.”

    “Oh.”

    “Sorry.”

    “It’s okay,” says Roper, ” I didn’t have anything to tell you that was worth knowing anyway.”

    I nod at him, “That’s what I thought.”