I glanced at the menu the waiter had left and nearly fell off my chair.
“That coffee is five bloody quid! Five quid!” I was almost yelling.
“Calm down,” said Frances. “It's a whole pot, and these cookies are delicious. Try one!”
I was not to be placated. “Are you going to drink it all?”
“I don’t know yet, probably not.”
“That’s what I thought!”
“There’s plenty for two. Let’s get another cup.”
“They’ll charge another fiver for that!”
I was having a rare but full-fledged cheap moment. After Frances finished a couple of cups, I polished off the rest with the cream. I was not about to leave anything. Frances divided the rest of the pastries between me and Kate, who was just back from flirting with the bartender.
“These are delicious! And don’t say they ought to be. Just enjoy them, and relax.”
“Probably want a bloody tip as well,” I mumbled.
“Don’t worry about the tip,” said Frances expansively. “I’m sure it's included.”
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