#1 INTO THE DARK SERIES: Part 1

Chapter 4

                                                                                   4

It took us ten minutes to walk from St. Meril’s to The Polish Café.  The cool local haunt for students.  There was a real buzz in the air. 

The café was situated in a prime spot on the main Abingdon Road.  It looked small and narrow from the busy street.  Flanking it on one side was a tiny second-hand bookshop.  Marler’s was about ready to burst and spew out books onto the street.   A sparse, white-walled art gallery of no name hugged the other side of the café.  It displayed framed black and white photographs of Oxford, London and Tokyo cityscapes.

Once inside, the café stretched back in a series of three long adjoining rooms.  It was so hot inside that the café windows were steamed up.  The determined rain attacked the large front window pane.  It wasn’t yet ready to relinquish us to the warm shelter of the café’s interior.

Numerous dark wooden tables and mismatched chairs filled every available space, and overflowed with rowdy students.  Each table boasted a different blue-patterned bowl, filled with generous chunks of brown sugar and white sugar. 

Not a single newbie Fresher in sight.  I loved it already.  I was starting to think that Freshers were like annoying tourists.  They only ever travelled in groups.  They always huddled together wearing bright coloured backpacks.  So even if I was officially a first year, I didn’t want to be identified as one.

For now, I wouldn’t think about the anonymous text message.  Nor the latest black-out, nor the boy who always protected me.  Nor Irene, nor the obnoxious guy with the blue eyes.  At least not yet.  The list of things to avoid thinking about was growing by the day.  A distraction was what I needed.

A long mahogany bar wrapped itself around one side of the first room.  Extra strong Polish Finezja coffees were being thrown together by a stocky, grey-haired gentleman.  He wore all black except for a crisp white apron.  He was joking with his customers.  Pippa told me this was the owner, Mr Weinskowski, who was ‘a sweetie’.

She motioned me forward to order my lunch, then waved over to a small group of students.  Pippa explained how last year she’d deferred her place at St. Meril’s for twelve months.  She was working with her Aunt who was an Educational Psychologist, when she’d met and moved in with this older group of students.

They were crowded around two square tables pushed together.  An array of different types of coffee littered the surface.  We paid for our Zapiekanki pizzas.  Then we made our way over to join the lively group, squeezing through the mass of animated bodies.  They shuffled up to make room for us around the tables. 

A red-haired girl with kind eyes introduced herself as Susie.  She hopped onto her boyfriend’s lap to free up a chair.  Her boyfriend, Tom, a large guy, introduced himself.  Then he winked at me and smiled as he put his arms around her.  She kissed him on the nose.

Pippa squeezed in next to me.  She introduced me to a rugged-looking guy on my right named, Will.  Compared to the others, he looked very physically fit.   As if he went rock climbing, rowing and played rugby all on the same day.  He exuded a raw, positive energy.  I thought he might be a useful person to know, in case I ever wanted to… climb rocks.

“Been running with bricks in your backpack again, Will?”  Pippa teased him.  She took off her gilet and hooked it over the back of the battered chair.

“Say the word, Pips and you can come with me.  Any time; day or night.”   Will grinned at her. 

Pippa groaned.  “Thrilling as that sounds, William, it takes a lot more than a backpack full of bricks to keep me entertained.”  She plucked at her mushroom pizza.