As it happened, Dez didn’t see Fran again for a couple of days. One of the staff took in Riley when Dez carried him downstairs, and he wished he’d kept the cat longer, until 9 PM, when the evening sitting finished and Fran had gone back to his own flat.
But Dez answered the door on Monday morning—the only day of the week the café was closed—to find Fran waiting there. No cat or cake this time, just a sheepish smile on a face that looked freshly shaved and made Dez very aware of his own bristly chin. Fran appeared mildly alarmed when Dez opened the door, as if he might bolt like a startled cat. But he rallied.
“Hey. I just thought I’d pop over to see how you were. It’s just…I haven’t heard you go out for a couple of days and I was wondering if you were ill or something. I wanted to check
