‘Oh Bertie’, she said, sliding onto the chair opposite, ‘have you seen this lovely day outside?’ Albert sat transfixed, his knife and fork hovering above the lightly poached eggs. She placed a fat manila envelope between them on the table.
‘What can I get you, Pearl?’ the sound drifted from somewhere on the outer reaches of the room. ‘Just a cup of tea’ she answered, words shaping tendrils round his thorax. She laced long fingers together like a riddle and looked him in the eye. ‘You haven’t forgotten your appointment with Dr Mott?’
Albert gathered himself. ‘I think there may have been some misunderstanding, my name may or may not be Bertie, I can’t quite recall. If it is, I may indeed be he, if not, perhaps not.’ The more he said, the odder it sounded. ‘You silly goose’ she giggled, did Carol’s tea go to your head?’
Albert cut a corner off the toast to see if it tasted like toast. When he found that it did he pushed the plate to one side and pulling himself strait asked ‘What’s in the envelope?’ Pearl looked at him quizzically ‘well, the instructions of course!’ They drank their tea in charged silence, he was wholly absorbed by each detail of her face, the eyes that seemed a trick, her nose finer than a song. The wild blond hair was pricked by light from the irregular glass and he was enchanted to notice her humming a tuneless little tune. After what seemed like some time he felt her foot knock against his boot. ‘Are you ready?’ she smiled.
He patted his pockets, thinking ‘The bill!’ The waitress appeared by the table and tapping her watch insisted it was time to go. ‘My wallet’, he mumbled. ‘No time for that’ she tutted, ‘Dr Mott mustn’t be kept waiting dear’. ‘May I take this?’ he asked, holding up the dog eared copy of ‘The Adventures Of Albert Buckle’. She nodded sagely and opened the door to let them pass.
Pearl’s bike was leant against the railings of the house next door. ‘You’re in charge Bertie’, said Pearl, taking sidesaddle on the wooden ledge over the back wheel. They wobbled off towards Dr Mott, the envelope clutched to Pearl's breast, Carol waving them off with a stained tea towel and a rueful sigh from the doorway of Pandora’s Café.
