Adriana's Corner

Chapter Eight

The front is nearly all windows and I can see its already packed at...I look at my watch...nine-thirty. Sounds promising.

I pay the taxi, reminding myself to get my licence while I'm here. Taxi's and buses aren't quite as readily available as in London; besides the temptation of driving a brand new Renault is too much to resist.

The first thing I smell when I step in is the coffee with it's rich, deep scent.

The second thing that hits me is the feeling of the place. Happy, joyful, warm.

The smells, the laughter and the cosiness of the cafe seems to greet me with a welcoming hug and kiss on the cheek...though maybe that's Alyssa.

I click out of the spell I seem to be under and concentrate on Alyssa who has that ever kind smile on her face.

"Nina! Come, come. I saved you a seat..." she says, grabbing hold of my wrist and drags me further in. "What would you like to drink?"

"Coffee. Long black and a melting moment please." I say as I'm led through some tables. My head whips around the area. It isn't just a coffee shop. There's a deli, cheeses, jars of stuff, a wall of spices and pasta made and dried in Italy and a long covered section displaying salads, pies, sandwiches, cakes and biscuits.

No wonder there's so many people here. I'm not even a foodie and I'm excited.

I get gently plonked into a seat by the window in the corner so I take my eyes off all the gourmet food and smile at Alyssa.

"We've kept the seat reserved in honour of her," she says gently. It's then I notice my immediate surroundings. On the table sits an A4 size photo of a woman smiling brightly and wearing a ridiculous hot pink shiny wig. I pick it up in disbelief.

"In Loving Memory of Adriana Merelize."

"This was her corner. She always sat here." I hear Alyssa say. I don't look up, just keep my eyes on the photo.

A box of tissues appears next to me and a hand falls on my shoulder. I hadn't even realised I've been crying but now I notice it, I can't stop. A continuous stream of tears just seems to be falling down my cheeks as I look at my sister...my sister who I haven't seen a photo of since I was nine and although she looks pale and Gaunt, her smile seems to just light up her face. She looks happy and content; nothing like the kind of person who would complain about her situation. It's probably why she never told me she was so sick.

"She was such a lovely person. It's okay to cry. I did." Alyssa's voice says kindly. I put the photo down and wipe my face with my palms, trying to calm myself down. I take a deep breath and shake my head.

"Didn't expect that, sorry..." I laugh as light-heartedly as possible.

"How long has it been since you've seen her?" she asks. I look at the photo and shake my head.

"Kind of doesn't matter now," I say quietly, feeling the guilt being drip fed into my mind with each second I look at the photo.

Alyssa rubs my back and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"I'm just going to go get your coffee, okay?"

"Grief yes, go. Don't worry about me. All part of realising I'm an idiot...go, go. I'm fine." I wave her off with as much of a smile as I can manage.

It's typical that just when I'm starting to feel that tiny bit better about life that I'll be knocked into submission again. This shouldn't bother me so much. I was expecting it. I came here expecting this. Guilt, sadness...everything else. Granted, I didn't think about having to see photos of her looking so sick...she never led me to believe it was this bad. No wonder she never sent me a photo of herself.