At home in South Australia, Laura had driven into town. The main street was quiet. All the shops were closed on a Sunday afternoon except for the cafe and another takeaway business further down the street. She smiled as she pulled her dusty Hyundai in to the curb beside the gleaming RAV4 already parked outside the cafe. She looked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror and tucked a tendril of hair back in under her cap. Paul Brown had struck her as the conservative type and she’d thought it best not to flaunt her hair.

She let herself into the shop. Paul was the only other customer. He was sitting at a table studying his phone. Even on his day off he was dressed neatly in woollen jumper and chinos. She only had a few seconds to take him in before he looked up and saw her. He tucked away his phone and stood.

“Hi,” she said, then cleared her throat at the squeaky sound she’d made.

“Hello.” He nodded and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Laura couldn’t believe the simple gesture could be so sexy. “You brought the folder?”

“Folder?” She blinked. “Oh, Mum’s folder, yes. It’s in the car.”

He took a step as if he was going to head that way now.

“Coffee,” she said. “I promised you coffee.”

“Yes.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got half an hour.”

“Right, well, I’d better order. What will you have?” Then she remembered the coffee she’d tipped all over him. “Flat white, right?”

“Yes.” And for the first time his lips curved up in a smile.

Once they were seated, with the table and two coffees firmly between them, their conversation was, at first, a little stilted. Then they got onto music and lost track of time. They both liked the same things, an eclectic mix of musicians and retro music, and realised they’d been at shows at the same venues.

“What was the last show you went to in Adelaide?” she asked.

Paul scratched his ear. She’d noticed he’d done that a few times when he was thinking. She thought it was cute.

“It was at the Thebbie back in March…” He stopped, fiddled with his empty coffee cup.

Her mouth dropped open. “No way. March. Don’t tell me you were at the ABBA show?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“So was I. I love ABBA music.”

He smiled widely then. “So do I, but not many of my friends do. I went on my own.”

“A couple of my girlfriends are fans too.” She laughed. “We could have been sitting right beside you.”

“You could have.”

They held each other’s gaze across the table.

He glanced at his watch. “Jeepers, it’s late, I have to get going. Sorry.” He stood.

She was still hanging onto jeepers. Who said that any more?

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said.