Simi steadies herself and the chair. She likes her new plan and feels stronger because of it. Even her hand doesn’t feel as bad as it did when she raised the shop shutter. The clip of Lola’s shoes brings her attention back to the street.

There she is. Tight as a plum in that dress, but will she wear a kaftan? Says she’s too young. Not even twenty. Huh! And those heels. But … what can I do? I like her. So do my customers.

She watches as Lola beams in, and places the cups she is carrying on to the desk. “Sorry it took so long. They were only just opening. I got doughnuts too. It’s a celebration right? You back, and all that.” She digs in the large bag slung over her shoulder and pulls out a paper packet, which she tears open lengthways and places between the cups, scattering sugar like glitter. “And I remembered the napkins.”

“Thanks,” says Simi, leaning back to avoid the glistening confetti fall. “All you need is a chair.”

Lola dusts off her hands, and goes to collect the wooden, back-of-store chair. “You look happy. Something happen while I was away?” she asks Simi as she carries it back.

“Well … yes and no.”

 “I was worried earlier. You looked tired,” she says sitting down.

“I was, but not now – some bad news has given me a good idea.” Simi pulls a coffee towards her, and takes off the lid. “You’ve no idea how I was dreaming of one of these.” Closing her eyes she takes a long sip.

Never going to take Gino’s deli for granted again.

Lola bites into her doughnut, sugar sticking to the plump, poppy red of her lips. She wipes the grains off with a napkin. “I can’t even imagine what it was like out there in Zim … Zim …”

“Zimbabwe.” Simi finishes the word for her. “Green. It was green. Green and brown. Lots of trees and stuff – ‘bush’ they call it. Place was so remote. All I looked at was the lodge when I booked it. To be fair, was beautiful though. Mountains. Tea estates. Ever seen tea growing?”

Lola shakes her head. “No. What was the lodge like?”

“Really comfortable. But strange. You know why? Everyone staying was white.”

“What? White?” Lola, napkin poised by her mouth, stares at Simi. “You were in Africa right?”

Simi nods. “I landed myself in the middle of a white wedding.”

“A white wedding? That’s bizarre.” Lola puts down the napkin. “I should have come with you. Two of us then.”

Simi laughs, head shaking. “It was crazy.”

“Then there was a big cyclone? Where you got hurt?” Lola’s eyes are now so big, Simi fears she might drown.

“Picked up some kind of infection,” she says, looking away.

“You know what? No way I’m going to those kinds of places.” Lola takes a bite of doughnut and chews it slowly, eyes still swallowing Simi. “Why did you go?”

Simi shrugs. “I have no idea. Life. Trying to prove something.” She doesn’t want to talk about SJ so she breaks off a piece of doughnut, and puts it into her mouth like a full stop. Once she’s eaten it, she tries to move the subject on.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023