Willow and Winona meet up for lunch at one of the many unremarkable cafes on the Terrace.

Willow is a little twitchy. She showed up in her usual winter Friday outfit, corduroys, a Polarfleece, a knitted hat, to find Winona crisply glam in a red trench coat, of all things. She’s been wondering for a bit if the two of them, steered together when they were both at a vulnerable moment, are going to veer apart.

Winona sits down gingerly. “First day with the painters in, d’you know what I mean?”

“Oh, poor you. How’s everything going?”

“The job’s fine, it’s good to be around my family again…your old flat is warm enough if we run two dehumidifiers…it’s just…” She trails off.

Willow is painfully aware that this is supposed to be one of those girl talk moments she’s not very good at. Heartily, she tries, “Now that you’re all good, what do you think you’ll do next?”

A latte arrives. “Oh, it’s hard to say. Work on the career for a bit myself, I guess. I was thinking of some crochet. I saw these little Japanese animals that people are making on line, all of crochet. What about you, now that your house is settled? Are you thinking of kids?”

She flushes. “Sprogs aren’t me, exactly. And my family…well… and I’m not seeing anyone, and…I mean, why d’you ask?”

“It’s just…” Winona repeats.  “Will and I have been trying for two years and it hasn’t happened.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.” Unselfconscious, for once, she reaches out and grabs Winona’s hand. “And  you’ve got your period.”

Winona nods, not glamorous at all as she scrunches up her face to hold back tears. “And you’re on your own, and…”

“It sucks,” they both say, together.

Tags:   cafes · coffee · willow · winona1 Comment