A chandalier, fashioned from a bicycle wheel, was suspended from the ceiling of the Forest Gate Cafe - charming toddlers gazed at creatives sipping cappuccinos - slender mothers ordered sparkling mineral water - youths nurtured their beards -
We sat for an hour or so in a booklined space, towards the rear of the cafe - there were sofas and shelves of Penguins - I discovered some Faber paperback editions of the Alexandrian Quartet - I remembered my literary seduction by Lawrence Durrell - it was like being dazed by too many Horses' Necks - I was disconcerted by a picture of a cyclist -
Sophie found a Ladybird Ugly Duckling - she and Paul were very fond of ducks - I hoped that this might prove to be a good omen -
We talked about the flat and structural surveys - Sophie and Paul were excellent company - I felt, all around me, the presence of the vast city -
Next door was a mini cab office - tired black dudes watched the clock -
A gentle Bangladeshi drove us back to Bethnal Green - he was very happy with his Toyota Prius - he'd bought it second hand from a man in Tiptree - he had another job in the post room of The Sun - we chatted as we zig zagged through tricksy traffic -
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