Waiting for the Night [Dalan]

Chapter 3

The café was one of those warm, cosy places that was open till late at night, and as they walked in, there was a poetry reading on stage, dominated by an angry, red-haired woman who was dressed like a gypsy. Her bangles jingled furiously as she stalked around the stage, crying out about her "angry breasts". Martin caught Dave rolling his eyes and tried not to laugh out loud. They got a seat near the counter, then Dave walked over and hugged the tall, wild-haired man who was manning the espresso counter. To Martin, they seemed like they had known each other for a long time. When Dave looked over and pointed at Martin, he quickly turned his attention back to the Angry-Breasted Woman striding around the small platform.

However, they were already approaching him. "Martin, this is Knox, my best mate," Dave said, his arm around the wild-haired man. "Knox, I met Martin like, ten minutes ago."

"Hey, Martin." Knox's eyes flickered up to Martin's mass of blonde curls. "Interesting hair, it looks pretty cool."

"Thanks, yours too." Martin smiled. "You're the café owner?"

"Yep, this place is my baby." Knox put his arm around Dave. "This asshole over here helped me set the place up. Not easy for a Yank to set up shop in London, I know." He ruffled Dave's hair, who protested with a laugh. "Couldn't have done it without this guy!"

"Wanker." Dave shoved him aside good-naturedly. "Go get Martin a caramel macchiato, I'm buying."

"Oh no no, it's on me..." Martin began.

Dave waved him away. "Come on, this is Knox's place, just give me the chance to be the demanding customer and wave money in his face."

"Fucker." Knox shook his head as he walked back to the espresso bar, the audience clapping as Angry-Breasted Woman finished her rant. Dave made a show of clapping as well, before hopping onto the seat next to Martin.

Over a few cups of coffee, they chatted about music, art and life in London in general, although Martin could sense Dave's initial reticence in revealing too much about himself. It didn't help that Dave was being cautious because he thought Martin was suicidal, but there was also the probability that whatever addiction he had just gotten over was causing him to be a bit more wary about the intentions of others. Despite the easy camaraderie between him and Knox, Dave was surprisingly shy with new acquaintances. This was something that was apparent enough to Martin without him having to scan Dave's thoughts for information.

After the last of a long line of hapless budding poets had left the stage, Dave looked around and noticed that Knox was already starting to stack the chairs. "Wow, it's almost 4am!"

Martin hadn't realised how late it was. He still had to go check on the Wilder guy. "I've got to get going. But it was good to meet you, Dave." He waved at the mass of empty coffee cups crowding the counter. "Thanks for...everything."

"You're welcome." Dave was visibly more at ease now with him, more warm, somehow. "Just drop by Knox's anytime, I'll see you around."

"See you, mate." They shook hands again, and Knox waved from where he was cleaning the espresso machine. Martin waved back, then stepped out of the cafe with the biggest smile on his face, unable to shake the feeling that something important had just occurred, but he didn't know what.