Scene’s from a Cafe 1983

‘In our day we did that kind of thing behind closed doors,’ said the grey haired woman with the blue rinse to her chain smoking companion. 
‘Yes, a cafe is no place for it Gladys,’ said the smoker who’s face was so creased it looked like a shirt that had been discarded for weeks on a teenager’s floor. 
‘It’s a disgrace’ said Gladys lighting her own cigarette, ‘disgusting - people are eating.’

The woman opposite them ignored their comments, rearranged her clothes and then threw the baby over her shoulder to wind him, hoping he’d burped in those horrible women’s faces.

Lisa chewed gum noisily as she leant against the counter ignoring the customer behind her . She half sang along to Eddie Grant’s Electric Avenue on the radio, just snippets of half remembered lines. The customer coughed signalling his presence. The girl turned around revealing a love bite the size of Canada on her neck; a swathe of purple, blue and brown splashed across her skin.
‘Yes’ she said smacking her lips as she did.
‘A pot of tea please’ said the man, intimidated by the girl despite being more than twice her age. 

A girl came in seemingly wearing all the clothes in her wardrobe, a pink t-shirt covered by a baggy, grey top covered by a small, lime green jacket. She was wearing odd, fingerless gloves, one fluorescent green the other fluorescent orange and she had a plethora of coloured plastic bangles up her arms.  Her waterfall blonde hair was held up with a fluorescent orange band.  She wore tight, stonewashed jeans on her legs with white, woollen leg warmers over her ankles. To her mother it looked like she got dressed in the dark, but to her she was the height of fashion, a style that would be copied by her friends. She looked around the café saw her friend and  slumped down in a seat opposite. Her friend’s eyes lit up at the sight of the odd gloves, while the girl took satisfaction at the admiration.

The girls at the other table were slightly less brightly dressed but still managed to wear more layers than necessary. They were talking loudly about boys.

‘So do you fancy him?’ the blonde girl with the pretty smile asked.

‘As if, he’s a such a dork.’

‘Well he’s telling everyone he got off with you at the youth club disco.’

‘Get out, he’d make me barf and anyway you snogged Mouse?’

‘No way he’s such a poser.’

Both girls were now blushing exposing their denials for the lies they were.

The two men looked up from their newspapers at the same time, as if they were on a string. The local rags were opened to the jobs pages but neither men looked very enthusiastic.

‘Nothing’ said the older one. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Less in here than in the Job Centre’ said the other one taking a noisy slurp of his tea and lighting a cigarette.

Both were dressed in jeans and denim jackets, the older one in his forties, his companion late twenties but both wore frowns of frustration, expressions of exasperation. They had the look of men who had mouths to feed but no money in their pockets. They were candidates for the devil who was already making plans for their idle hands.

If you enjoyed that, why not buy my new novel

Maggie’s Milkman? It is now available on Kindle - search 'Milkman Gareth Davies’ (the links are different in different countries)

and on other ebook readers at - 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/412845

Enjoy

By the way see my interview about the book here