October 15, 2014 by helenwaldron
In which we finally meet Herr Sakony
Writewell glared at the yummy mummy.
“Find two adverbs of time, ending in –ly, in Chapter Three,” she went on determinedly.
“I think we’ve finished with Chapter Three,” said Speakeasy, amused. “But talking of time…”
“You have a previous appointment,” finished Writewell for him.
“Yes. Could we continue with this quiz another time?” He got up, plucked his jacket from the back of the chair and put it on. “Or maybe you could finish it on your own.”
He left some money on the table (“My treat”) and left the café hurriedly (“Bye”), leaving Writewell still sitting there, notepad and pen in hand.
She still had more than half a mug of Rooibos-Vanilla with Elderberry and Rhubarb to drink and it was far too expensive to waste, so she stayed in the cafe and looked around her. The yummy mummies now both had their smart phones out and were comparing something on them, which made them almost the only people in the café talking to each other. There were people clicking on laptops, with fat files beside them, as if they didn’t have an office at all. Around one table sat three women all leaning outwards from each other, either texting or being texted to.
But before Writewell could gloat at them, her own phone went “ping”. And it was Speakeasy.
“Hi Jools,” he wrote. “Sorry I abandoned you. I’m sitting in the metro right now, so I’ve got some time to finish my part of the quiz. Bonsoir Paris, here are the results of the Irish jury. Chapter Five: name three pieces of telephone vocabulary. Chapter Six: Groundhog Day is the second film named in this story (the first was Titanic). What is the animal and what is the film called in your language? Chapter Seven: What do you call a person who has retired? And, three more pieces of office vocabulary! BTW: Guess who’s just got in the train? Babe Malden!! Methinks I’ll approach her.”
What a coincidence, thought Writewell, as she eyed the man now pushing open the glass door to enter the café. He settled himself at the corner table and glanced down through the menu, looking for something to eat. He’s been to an interview, she thought. He’s got a worried expression and a brand new briefcase.
Women make the best detectives. And teachers perhaps make the best detectives of all. The good teachers, that is, the ones who take the trouble to discern potential in their students that even the students are not aware they have.
Writewell was absolutely right about the man in the café, but what she would never guess, in a million years and in Speakeasy’s absence, was that this was Herr Sakony, the man from Acme she had never met.