Freeman made coffee in the tiny kitchen behind the counter. The space clearly wasn’t built for a towering six foot six man, but he made it work. Jay watched him add the grounds to the kettle and let it simmer, cowboy style.
‘Won’t that burn the coffee?’ he said.
‘Jesus, one trip to Melbourne and you’re a connoisseur now?’ Freeman said. ‘We’re five thousand feet above sea level. Water boils at a lower temperature.’
He poured some coffee into a ceramic mug and handed it over. Jay brought it carefully to his lips. It was too hot to drink, but he sipped anyway. It had some punch to it but it was smooth.
‘Nice. Not bitter,’ he said.
Freeman didn’t look surprised. ‘My magic at work,’ he said, pouring himself a cup. He leaned against the kitchen bench and nursed his coffee. ‘I’m curious, Jay
