‘Oh dear,’ Jemima chuckled guiltily.

Literally, sod’s law. The doctor turned to scrape his clog on the pavement edge and Jemima gasped, recognising him straight away. It was Chatterbox Chance from the plane. It all came racing back. His practice was upstairs! She siphoned her drink into her to-go cup and shrank down in her chair. Outside, Chance was attempting to clean his shoe by dragging it along the ground in a second-rate moonwalk. Finally conceding defeat, he tried to lob his clog into a rubbish bin with his foot. It looped up in the air and circled back, missing him by inches. If this had been a stranger, Jemima would still be whooping with laughter but it was Chance and frankly she was still embarrassed about their testy exchange on the flight home. Under the feeble guise of packing away her things, she ducked down, awaiting an opportune moment to make a speedy exit. Five Mississippis later, she peeked over the table top. With no Chance in sight, she bolted for the door, her bag thwacking several customers as she fled. And just as she was within grabbing distance of the door, she ran directly into… Chance. Milky coffee splattered over her top and his scrubs.

‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry!’ he said scrabbling for napkins.

‘It’s fine!’ Jemima said trying to flick the excess liquid from her shirt.

‘Please. Let me buy you another?’ he said, mortified.

Jemima looked at him. Despite being keen on escaping she was a little irked he didn’t recognise her. Then again it was probably for the best or next, she’d be stuck talking to him and they’d end up married… What? Where did that come from?

‘Holy shit!’ Chance exclaimed. ‘Jemima. It’s me – Chance – from the plane!’

‘The plane…’ she said pretending to search for the recollection.

‘Remember, I work upstairs,’ he said. ‘You live nearby?’

‘I’m just passing through,’ she lied.

‘Well then I definitely have to buy you a coffee if I might not see you again. This is our reunion!’ Chance beamed. ‘Hey, Azi, two coffees, hon.’

‘Great,’ Jemima said with the warmth of a coroner and suddenly feeling possessive of Azi and Rania.

They were her friendly neighbourhood purveyors of fine coffee. She won them fair and square in her quasi-divorce from Miles. She stewed as Chance headed for the coveted airplane seats.

‘Just like old times.’ He winked.

Jemima had forgotten how annoyingly happy he was. He’d be great for Simi, she surmised as Azi followed behind with their drinks.

‘Aaaaah. Couples are always drawn to the love seats,’ Azi sighed as she set down their coffees.

‘We’re not—’ Jemima interjected.

‘I know.’ Azi smiled. ‘Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.’

There was nothing to leave them to, Jemima wanted to insist but Azi was already gone. They were just two strangers, joined by a common coffee stain. Jemima turned back to Chance – unsure what to say. ‘So you work…’

‘Upstairs. Only been there a few months… but I have seen you around,’ Chance said, sipping his coffee.