It’s only nine-thirty Sunday morning, but the vines at Emmanuel’s Café have already wilted in the heat. Further back, behind the vines and the glass, Paddy sits in air-conditioned comfort, enjoying a long black. The café Labrador ‘Zeus’ sits at his feet: fat, golden and panting. Paddy is almost happy. Some good boxes have been ticked: EJ’s just arrived from England, there’s a new government, Michelle is on her way to see Red and Mia, and the coffee is perfect.
He puts his mug on the table and looks across the room at EJ and George, who are chatting and laughing at the counter—EJ’s dark flashing eyes and that kind tone in her voice are so Janie. The rest is all EJ—‘Boho’, as Mia says—hair in long black braids, an orange and brown skirt that looks like curtain material, a black ‘b****y Mess
