CoffeeBeanShop

Piccadilly Satisfaction

by Rose Richards (bio at end of story)

The best cup of coffee I had in my life was in London. I'd been four days with my sister, her husband, and their two sons near Cambridge. We hustled through English castles drinking bottled water, dashed the gravel paths of formal gardens with orangeade in hand, and on plastic patio chairs rushed to catch up after three years' absence while gulping iced tea. Every morning, I ate toast and spooned instant coffee from a jar into a mug of water heated by the electric kettle always plugged in. Just flip the switch to turn it on.

The fifth day we drove into London to meet my friends Hans Peter and Ilsa at a prearranged place, date and time. All details were planned from Minneapolis, the Cambridge countryside, and Berlin. The seven of us ate at a nearby Italian restaurant. Our ages were from six to sixty. Most of the group had not previously met. Conversation was of the casual what-do-you-do-for-work and where-do-you-go-to-school variety. The food was adequate. The beverages could only boast 'included with meal.'

Lunch eaten, we split into two groups. My friends and I had three hours before we were due to reunite with the sightseeing parents and boys. Ilsa turned to me and said, "What do you want to do now?"

I answered, "I'm dying for a good cup of coffee."

Hans Peter smiled and said, "Me too."

Where should we go? Time was short and none of us well-acquainted with the city. Let's try Piccadilly Circus. It has something for everyone. We rode the tube to the Piccadilly station, climbed stairs past the folk guitarist, stepped around the pigeons and surveyed the scene: Mexican restaurant, bank, tourist gift shop, McDonalds, and behind the sidewalk construction workers was . . . Ah! There's an upscale, rehabbed hotel. One should be able to get a decent coffee there.

We walked into the lobby and scanned the marquee naming restaurants. There's a bar lounge on the mezzanine level. East Indian wait-staff in white shirts, black ties, knife-pleat pressed trousers floated over the plush carpet with furniture low, beige and modern. A dark-haired waitress took our order for latte and cappuccinos.

I lit a cigarette and asked, "How was your flight? What have you two been doing here?" Then half listened to predictable answers. The flight was quick and uneventful. They'd visited the British Museum and Hyde Park, shopped the flea market, gone to pubs for fish and chips, pints of ale.

Our waitress returned with a round brass tray; the order sat on a large, paper, lace doily. She set before us three squat, white, porcelain cups with two rectangles of sugar on each saucer. "Anything else I can get for you?"

"No."

"No thanks."

"That's all we need." I unwrapped the brown paper and plopped the sugars in my cup. Stir, stir, stir, tap. Inhaled as it approached my nose and took the first sip. Holding the warm cup in my palm, I looked up to find that we were all now resting our shoulders against the soft cushions, knees open, jaws relaxed. My breathing rolled out deep and slow. And I started again, "Ilsa, my God, work is wretched and my parents are disappointed in me and I have to find a new place to live, but I'm very very much in love with Pat and that's brilliant, as they say in the UK. How have you really been?"

She leaned forward, touching me with eyes soft, hands warm, and said, "Oooh, my dear Lily, it's so good to see you."

© Rose Richards. All Rights Reserved.

Finalist - Piccadilly Satisfaction by Rose Richards

Rose Richards is pictured here in Berlin where she is known as a Coffee Tante --German for "Coffee Aunt." Richards is a writer in Minneapolis Minnesota where you may find her working in a variety of Twin Cities coffee houses. She has been most recently published in Missing Links genealogy e-zine, and Drexel Online Journal.

Editor's Note: "Piccadilly" was chosen for the first round for the following reasons: Intriguing title, interesting opening lead, pleasant read. There is subtle mystery to the story, with a believable premise shown through solid description. Excellent writing, correct punctuation, no spelling errors. This was a memorable story. We kept coming back to this one because of the ending - it was abrupt, and yet very appropriate for the style. "Piccadilly" had a flavor that was very different than the rest of the stories we received.

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