Coffee and banter

Edward scanned the crowds, wondering if he had missed Noémie. He was sure he had made two mistakes today. The first was agreeing to meet at Covent Garden station on a Saturday morning. The summer sunshine had drawn out both Londoners and tourists alike, causing crowds in the street. The second, he was not so sure. He had agreed to meet with Noémie, unsure if it was a date or more the need for a companion and guide.

They had met at one of his sister's dinners. He had been brought in at the last minute to make up the numbers. Anna was now bringing a cousin. Freshly ensconced from Paris. So, another male was needed. No woman could be left alone. Edward was selected. A safe pair of hands is how his sister Veronica described him. Edward didn't mind. His sister's meals were legendary, and her husband kept a good wine cellar of heavier reds. Edward's role was nothing more than to be a charming companion for the evening.

Edward had, therefore, been genuinely surprised when introduced to Noémie. She had a great mass of expresso-coloured hair that framed her striking features. As she leaned in and kissed him on each cheek, her perfume — a hint of musk — lingered in the air.

The dinner had been lush, each course complimenting the flavours of the previous, with carefully matched wines, the meal took the diners to the crescendo of dessert.

Edward and Noémie had talked late into the night, the conversation flowing as freely as the wine. When Anna insisted it was time for them to leave, Edward had been reluctant to part ways with Noémie until his sister's raised eyebrow indicated otherwise.

Edward continued to check his reflection in the shop window. He had made quite the effort—new jeans, crisp shirt and blazer, suede loafers. Wrapped around his throat was a Kenzo pashmina. Its colours vivid against the blue blazer. Edward wondered was this "le chic," or had he overdressed? He wondered if he was about to make a fool of himself.

His first view of Noémie was in his reflection, "Bonjour Edward."

He turned, embarrassed at being caught. Noémie did not seem to mind, and Edward was blessed with 'le bise', the double kiss that seemed to be part of everyday greeting by beautiful girls from Paris. The musk perfume was stronger this morning. Edward felt its distinct pull.

"Bonjour, Noémie."

"You look chic," Noémie said, saving him from embarrassment.

"Merci," he replied, "as do you." Noémie riot of hair had been let loose, falling down on the white cheesecloth maxi dress. The translucence of the material where the sun hit it made the dress both daring and elegant.

"Shall we?" Edward asked, indicating which way to go.

Noémie led the conversation as they walked to the cafe, insisting they speak English as she needed all the practice she could get before school. Edward felt this was a distinct advantage as last night, his schoolboy French had left a lot to be desired.

"So, I'll be here for the next three years studying Fine Art at the RCA. I also hope to improve my English." Noémie said.

"RCA, you must be good."

Edward scanned the cafe as they entered, wondering if they would get a seat. The air was full of the aroma of fresh coffee and warm pastries.

"What will it be?" Edward asked.

"Coffee," Noémie answered.

"I am not a regular," Edward pointed to the board, "but I think we may need to be a tad more specific." He teased. On the board was a choice of two dozen different styles of coffee, hot chocolate and tea, all available in at least three different sizes.

"Pardon Edward in French un café means..." Noémie scanned the board; he could see her reading each coffee type to herself.

"Expresso!" She exclaimed. He could see her delight in having worked it out.

"An Expresso coffee, please, Edward," Noémie took her time to formulate the words, "What are you having?"

"Tea, English Breakfast tea for me."

"No coffee?" Noémie asked.

"No! Can't stand the stuff."

"Oh," Noémie looked surprised.

The barista scribbled down their order, then pushed a number toward them with a smile. "Order 27. It shouldn't be long."

They found seats near the window. Edward watched as Noémie crossed her legs, her summer dress shifting to reveal a toned calf. He glanced away, but not quickly enough.

"Like what you see?” she teased.

Edward flinched. Caught red-handed, he decided to be honest. “Always have been a leg man. That was rude of me. I apologise."

"No need to apologise. At least now I know which part of me you like best."

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, “I haven’t seen all of you... yet.”

Noémie’s smile faltered. “Yet?”

Realising his mistake, Edward raised his hands. “A joke. Just banter.”

Noémie’s face showed confusion, and her demeanour cooled. “So, you assume you will see me naked?”

"Sorry, I was making a joke" Edward could feel himself colouring.

"When I asked you for coffee, I was not inviting you for sex, Edward," Noémie said as if explaining to a five-year-old.

"No, you are not understanding me, banter is when..."

"No, Edward, it is you who is not understanding me. We had a great night last night, but I am not ready to have sex with you."

Several heads had turned when Noémie said the word "sex." Edward realised more than one table was now actively listening to their conversation. Flustered and feeling embarrassed, he was unsure what to say.

"No, that's not what I meant. Let me see if I can explain this better."

Before Edward could answer, the waitress arrived with their drinks.

Noémie looked unhappy.

The waitress had long blonde cornrows and a vicious nose piercing. She made a point of placing Noémie's drink down in front of her. For a moment, she held eye contact with Noémie.

"Is this person bothering you, miss? I can get the manager?"

"I really don't think that's necessary," Edward said.

"Let her answer for herself. She doesn't need a man to speak for her," The waitress snapped.

An older woman with a blue rinse chipped in. "He's been making lewd suggestions to her."

The waitress turned to call the manager. The cafe grew quiet.

Noémie stood. “That won’t be necessary. I can handle this.” She grabbed her bag and turned to Edward. “This is not what I had hoped for.” And walked out.

Edward sat frozen.

What happened? Edward wondered.

The waitress turned to him, "You're barred."

"Barred! What for?" Edward looked from the waitress to the retreating Noémie. Making his decision, he left the waitress and headed after Noémie.

"I'll call the police," the waitress standing in his way.

By the time Edward got to the door, he couldn't see her. He looked both ways. She couldn't have gone too far. He caught a glimpse of her in the crowd.

"Noémie!" he called.

Noémie continued to rush away until she was lost to the crowds. Chasing her wasn't an option. He didn't want to scare the girl. Reaching for his phone, he sent Noémie a text message. A link to the definition of banter?

Never before had he waited for those dancing dots. Edward looked about him, hoping to catch sight of her before returning to the phone.

The dots danced.

"????" was the response.

Standing out of the way of the foot traffic, he texted her again.

"Noémie, I made a kind of joke that's called banter, it's a way of teasing. You do it to people you like," he paused for a second, then typed, "People you like a lot. It's a way of flirting."

The three dots danced again.

"This is an odd way of flirting." Edward read the message a few times. Thinking.

He wrote. "The English are odd."

God, that felt weak even to me, thought Edward.

Before she could answer, he added. "I am so sorry about this. It is a big misunderstanding, all my fault, sorry!"

He looked for the dancing dots. Nothing.

He looked about the street to see if he could see her. Thinking by staying in one place she might come back to him. Five minutes passed with him constantly checking both their phone and the street.

Edward saw the dots start to dance again. Relief hit Edwards like a punch to the chest. But the message was from Veronica, "WTF!"

Edward felt like he was going to die. He texted back, "Big mistake. Please Help! Get her to text me."

Edward sat staring at his phone, willing the dots to dance. Nothing. After five additional minutes, his heart sank. He looked around. Everywhere he looked were couples — lovers of all ages holding hands, kissing, standing impossibly close in the way only lovers could. At the far side of the square, he spotted a young, attractive woman resting her head on her partner’s shoulder as they watched a street performer. Her long, braided hair was dark against his denim jacket, his arm draped comfortably around her.

Defeated, Edwards decided to cut across the square to the station. He wondered how much of an issue this would cause. Not just for him but for Veronica, too. Anna was Veronica's best friend. One thing was for sure, he was in for a tongue-lashing when his sister got hold of him.

Edward made slow progress across the square. It was busy with even more street artists than usual. As he weaved through the crowds, he remembered. It's the festival weekend. No wonder Noémie wanted to come here.

Wishing to take a shortcut, Edward cut across the back of a mime's performance space. Who was entertaining the usual crowd of tourists. The mime was all whiteface and black costume, on his head sat the traditional black top hat. A red carnation was printed on his black shirt. Spotting Edward, the mime raced to stand directly in front of him with his hands in fists on his hips. The crowd laughed. Edward, not wishing to interact, stepped to one side. The mime matched him. Blocking Edward's way. The crowd laughed again.

Holding his hands up in submission, Edward said, "Very good, mate, but I am not in the mood." He tried to move away, but the mime continued to block him. The audience was in stitches.

Edward felt his phone vibrate. Turning his back on the mime, Edward grabbed his phone.

The mime looked over Edward's shoulder.

"Where are you?" It is from Noémie.

The mime turns to the crowd and makes the sign of the heart with his fingers holding it against his chest.

"In the square," Edward texted back?"

"?????" Came the reply.

The mime runs to his set of props and, picks up a huge mobile phone and pretends to be Edward texting. The audience laughs.

Edward wrote, "In Covent Garden Square."

He looked about for Noémie. The mime does, too.

The mime then taps him on the shoulder and hands him the phone.

Edward shook his head, then checked back on his phone.

The dots danced.

"I don't think you like French culture," came the reply. Edward looked at the message, confused. The dots began to dance again.

"Why don't you want to see me naked?" Edward stared at the message thinking he must be misunderstanding the message.

Edward looked up to see the mime typing Noémie messages into his own huge phone. On the phone's giant digital screen read,

"Why don't you want to see me naked?" For all the world to see.

The crowd burst out laughing, some of them hooting and catcalling.

Edward blushed hard. He wanted the ground to open and swallow him. He looked back at his phone. The dots began their dance again.

"Banter!" Noémie writes.

Edward smiled slowly he shook his head in disbelief. He sends a thumbs-up icon in return, and the dots dance again.

Two messages arrived.

"I have explained it to her, Idiot!" It was from Veronica.

The other, "The French invented mime!" from Noémie.

He turned around and looked for Noémie. She must be close by if she knew about the mime.

Edward turned, slowly, three-sixty degrees, searching the crowd. Then Noémie was standing there, grinning at him.

Edward stood there, unsure of what to do. The mime rushed forward to Noémie and handed her a paper rose. Then made a heart sign with his fingers against his chest.

The crowd cheered. Noémie gave an elegant curtsy to the mime but shook her head and pointed to Edward. The mime is distraught, and the crowd boo as Edward is painted as the villain. The mime follows Noémie as he walks over to Edward. "Bonjour," she says, then greets him with a kiss on each cheek. The mime points to his cheek and Noémie kisses both of his cheeks as well. The mime pretends to swoon. The crowd cheered.

Edward had received each kiss like a dying man received the sacrament. Noémie grabbed Edward's hand and led him away.