“I see some likeness between Lou and Jane. I always have,” she said. “Although Lou is gentler than Jane. I think so, anyway. I’ve known Lou for a long time and she has always struck me as very sensitive.” Annie hoped she and Mia were on the same wavelength and Mia didn’t perceive being sensitive as a negative personality trait.

“Oh, she is.” Mia, who usually wasn’t lost for words, didn’t say anything more.

“I remember that day you were both in here together as if it was yesterday. You both looked like you’d seen the most unlikely incarnation of the devil. It was uncanny.”

“That was then,” Mia said. “We had a bit of a false start, but now we’re head-over-heels like you and Jane were twenty years ago.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you? I’m friends with Lou’s mother, I know. A different generation. It doesn’t mean Jane and I aren’t still in love.”

“I made no such claims,” Mia said, a triumphant smile on her face.

Annie wondered if she’d been a bit too keen about making her point. After all, Kristin was joining her at the charity kitchen later today.

The door of the shop opened, indicating the end of their coffee break. A young man walked in with his laptop tucked under his arm.

One of those, Annie thought. He would probably sit there for an hour, order one cup of coffee, throw a glance at the books from the furthest distance possible, and walk back out without actually having bought anything.

Most of the coffee shops on King Street didn’t give out their Wi-Fi password anymore to counter this sort of behavior—which to Annie seemed quite rude and entitled—but Mia was adamant they should attract this kind of crowd as well. The Pink Bean in Darlinghurst had the same policy, but that branch wasn’t located a stone’s throw away from a university and droves of penniless students.

Perhaps this could be a topic of conversation with Kristin tonight. Annie caught herself thinking about tonight as a sort of date with Kristin and she knew very well she needed to put a stop to that kind of thinking straight away.

Annie presumed Kristin had dressed down, but she still looked too overdressed for the kind of work she was about to do. Maybe she had even gone shopping for the occasion—to find something hobo chic.

Not that Annie minded. She was just glad of the opportunity to spend some time in close proximity to Kristin, first preparing the meals, then dishing them out.

“This won’t be a gourmet meal then,” Kristin said, glancing at the large cast iron pots on the stove.

“Doesn’t mean it won’t be good and nutritious,” Rita said.