LOVE ON THE LINE
Who would you rather be stuck in a lift with?’ asked Meryl, as Tess stacked cups by the cappuccino machine. ‘Brad Pitt or Bradley Cooper?’
‘Neither,’ replied Tess, reaching for the coffee beans. ‘Nothing against those two, but I’d go for Cary Grant.’
‘Gary who?’ gawped Meryl.
Tess suppressed a laugh. Meryl’s reactions to her cultural references made her feel ancient. ‘He was an actor,’ she said.
‘I’d go for Bradley,’ mused Meryl. ‘If he suffered from claustrophobia, I could teach him breathing techniques.’
‘The morning rush is about to start,’ Tess reminded her, nodding out at the station concourse.
They worked in the cafe at Heatherby station, on a busy commuter line. It was a cosy cafe, with an old-fashioned flip-top counter and delicious cakes under domes.
Tess had run the place since retiring from her civil service job three years ago, and Meryl did part-time shifts.
Meryl was 25 and, despite sometimes being a flibbertigibbet (Tess thought), she was a good soul and a hard worker.
