Ringo, willowy blondes, and Love & Coffee...

When I cross the portal, the coffee shop is Continental. Instrumental. Sentimental. There's a little Rodriguez in the air.

Spanish magic on six strings with ten fingers and one genius, oozing from the wall. A touch of flamenco. A taste of the gipsy caves. I breathe slowly and deeply and look to the left.

Scanning the seats. Perusing the people.

I stop at the middle-aged professor. Old-school intellectual with a new school iPad. White hair. Same shirt as yesterday. Deep in thought.

I hear a commotion and look back outside. Boys in blue frog-marching a shifty dude somewhere quiet for a good finger wag talking to in the back of a black and white van. No prying eyes. Naughty boy. Menacing tattoos. Sneer on his face.

The box on the wall changes gear and develops a sunny disposition. ELO gives Manuel the elbow and Mister Blue Sky makes the pulse jump. Good old Jeff. Can't beat a modern classic.

Willowy Blonde stands by the counter, waiting for her caffeine hit. Hey you with the pretty face. Frowning at the human race. Willowy Blonde fingertaps her denim-coated left thigh in time with the music.

Tight beat. Tight jeans tucked into cowboy boots. Loose blue jacket over black tee with a slogan on the front. She turns. Jacket opens. Slogan reads: “Love & Coffee. Everything else is bollocks!”

She glares at the room. The room glares back.

Willowy Blonde snaps her head around and faces Little Italy. All I need is a black Americano, three sugars and the truth, she says.

Little Italy knows about Willowy Blonde. Knows the story behind her. Knows the attitude is all a front. False as a pair of silicone implants.

Everybody’s got a defence mechanism. Everybody’s got something they’re scared of. Little Italy knows what Willowy Blonde’s scared of and she keeps it well and truly locked up.

It’s not the kind of secret that anyone should have to tell. So she cuts her a break the size of the Grand Canyon.

You found a gig yet, she says. Willowy Blonde shakes her head. Bust my ass…bust my bass, she says. Neck’s cracked, she says. Band’s got a stand-in, she says.

Little Italy looks at her. Two heartbeats. Wait here, she says and disappears into the back office. Comes back a minute later with a black case. Opens it up. Sitting inside is a Rickenbacker 4003. Midnight Blue.

Looks brand spanking new.

Willowy Blonde’s jaw drops. You play, she says. Little Italy winks and closes the case. Hands it to Willowy Blonde.

Her name’s Alice, she says. Give her back when you get yours fixed up, she says. No hurry, she says. Now go sit down in the corner, I’ll bring you over your Americano, she says. Sugar’s on the table. You’ll have to figure out the truth for yourself.

Willowy Blonde has a tear in her eye. Wipes it away. Moves to the corner hugging the bass. Sits down and wipes away another tear.

Little Italy takes over a steaming Americano. No charge. No words. Walks away and looks at the box on the wall.

The box doesn’t need to be told twice. Reaches down. Brings number 149 up and slides it onto the turntable. The curtains open. The Beatles are on stage. Ringo, sticks and vocals, sings with a little help from his friends.

Willowy Blonde smiles at the room. The room smiles back.

Nice one Mr. Starkey...

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The above is an extract from my book Love & Coffee (available from all good Amazons).

It's about the lives and loves of the customers in a city centre coffee shop. And it's about the woman who takes care of them.

You'll find Love & Coffee (along with all my other books, Ad Lib, Ad Hoc, Ad Infinitum, and Heaven Help Us) waiting for you to fall in love with, on Amazon. Any time of the day or night. Right here...

Love & Coffee: https://amzn.to/28IWaHq

Ad Lib: https://amzn.to/2kd4LKf.

Ad Hoc: https://amzn.to/2Nx8GL8

Ad Infinitum: https://amzn.to/3pof7Uq

Heaven Help Us: https://amzn.to/2nkQ1Jk

Grab a coffee, grab a chair, and grab a sneaky peek.

Then grab a copy...