In Which Ava Waits for the Weather to Decide
The rain pelted against the windows of the little café like an over-eager drummer who desperately needed a metronome.
Inside, it smelled of freshly ground coffee, cinnamon buns and a pinch of 'I'm staying here until autumn spits me out again'. Ava Ashford sat by the window, wrapped up in her oversized cardigan, which looked as though she'd nicked it from Rory Gilmore's wardrobe. Her Jane Austen book lay in front of her, its cover adorned with delicate embellishments and gleaming flourishes. She wasn't really reading; she was just pretending to. In fact, she was watching the rain, which was turning the world outside into a blurred watercolour painting.
'Ava, you look as if you're about to elope with Mr Darcy.' Ms Becker placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of her – steaming, fragrant, black as night, just the way Ava always ordered it. 'I'm just reading,' she said. "Mhm. And I'm just baking a cake. Still, I know when someone's waiting for a visitor."
"I'm not waiting for anyone in particular." "Of course not. You've just been sitting by the window for twenty minutes, sighing like the main character who has to carry the weight of the whole story on their shoulders, and staring out as if you were waiting for a sign from the universe." "Maybe I am waiting for a sign from the universe." "Then get ready, darling. The universe sometimes arrives sooner than you expect."
As if the heavens had heard that very sentence, the café door swung open and a gust of cold autumn air swept in. Noah Merrick stumbled over the threshold, dripping wet, dishevelled, an old digital camera hanging round his neck.
He stopped. He let his gaze wander over the modest bustle of the café and finally settled on Ava's table. It was only for a moment, but they looked at each other. Then he instantly turned away again and fixed his gaze on the special offers written in chalk on the slate boards across the counter.
With a smile, Ms Becker observed Ava, who was keeping her head bowed and hidden behind her book. Then she sighed wistfully, tucked her tablet under her arm and made her way back to the counter. Noah ordered a coffee, muttered something about her keeping the change, and sat down two tables away from Ava on one of the chairs with wine-red upholstery and rocaille carvings on the backrest. He set the camera down carefully, as if it were a priceless treasure, and reached for one of the sachets filled with brown sugar in the centre of the small round table.
Although Ava's gaze was fixed on *Pride and Prejudice*, which she held in her hands, the words she was trying to make out at that moment simply made no sense. Over and over again she skimmed the same sentences, but the letters within them refused to form logical phrases and blurred into a sticky mass.
"He's cute," whispered Ms Becker, who was suddenly standing next to her again, and Ava flinched. She closed her book. The rain outside was getting heavier; inside, the temperature seemed to be rising, and the air was vibrating. She looked up at her questioningly and wrinkled her nose. What nonsense.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Noah, who was deep in thought, stirring the cup in front of him with a small spoon. He seemed to sense her gaze, for suddenly he lifted his head and looked straight in her direction. A smile played around his lips and he sat up hesitantly.
"Right," Ava murmured quietly to herself. "If this were a film, some cheesy music would kick in now." "If this were a film," said Ms Becker, who stood with her hands on her hips, clearly amused, "I'd now take on the role of the wise supporting character and tell you to go over there." "I'm definitely not going over to that bloke over there." "Of course not. You'll just stay put and wait for the universe to make the next move." "The universe's got plenty to do today." "Right, so I suppose it's up to you after all."
Ava rolled her eyes, picked up her cup, stood up and sat down at the table right next to Noah's. He looked at her in surprise. "Hi," he said. "Hi," Ava replied. "It's raining quite a lot." "Yeah, the angels seem to have found a reason to cry today." "Tears of joy?" "Possibly. Hang on a sec, I'll grow some wings, fly up there and ask. Fancy coming along? It'll definitely be interesting."
He laughed. A warm, genuine laugh that Ava liked straight away.
"I've seen you here quite a few times," he admitted. "And yet you didn't speak to me? Do I look that nasty when I'm concentrating on reading?" She smiled.
Noah noticed the little laugh lines forming around her eyes, and he felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips. Was it fate that they were finally talking to each other? Would he ever have plucked up the courage to speak to this girl himself?
