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café. Xanthi followed the pair with a cry, ‘What you doing throwing those bikes about?’
    Tiffany stared at the mountain of food. She reached for her bag and extracted the aspirin packet, popped two pills in to her mouth and gulped down more water.
    ‘Headache still bad?’
    She nodded and the movement increased the pounding. She placed a hand against her brow and pressed gently. ‘I slept with the window closed. I think I’m dehydrated.’
    ‘Not hungry?’ he asked. ‘Like me to eat it?’
    Tiffany looked up sharply in surprise, then had to steady her head between both hands as a small groan escaped. She bit her lip.
    The man slid the other chair closer and sat down. He leaned forward and said in the sort of confidential whisper spies used in the movies, ‘It’s just that if those eggs and bacon aren’t eaten Xanthi will bring something else until you do eat. Could take all day.’ He sat back and a smile danced across his lips.
    Tiffany sat mesmerised by his mouth. Even through the agony of her headache she could see he had very kissable lips, apart from the stubble. He hadn’t shaved for days. Why not? Too lazy? Didn’t give a damn?
    ‘Are you growing a beard?’
    He laughed. ‘No.’
    Tiffany blinked. Had she asked that out loud? A hot prickly tide rose up her neck.
    ‘I just can’t be bothered shaving sometimes,’ he said. ‘What do you say?’
    ‘I don’t like beards,’ she blurted.
    ‘That’s interesting. I meant about this.’ He indicated the plate of eggs.
    ‘Eat it if you like,’ she said quickly, her face pulsing. They could use her as a warning beacon for shipping. ‘I planned on fruit from the other shop. Maybe yoghurt.’
    He drew the plate across. ‘Like some toast?’ He cut a piece in two. Tiffany took one piece and nibbled at the corner with the least butter dripping from it. She put the rest on her saucer.
    ‘What did you get up to last night?’ He rammed a forkful of bacon into his mouth.
    Tiffany watched him chew. but the thought of fried eggs made her look away and reach for the coffee. She held it in two hands sipping cautiously. Xanthi made wonderful coffee. She closed her eyes and breathed in the life-giving scent rising on the steam.
    ‘Secret?’ He scraped a piece of toast around in the egg yolk.
    ‘Pardon?’ Tiffany’s brain slowly registered that he’d asked a loaded question. ‘Last night? I met Fleur.’
    ‘Aaaah.’ He nodded and polished off the last piece of bacon. ‘Get on well?’
    ‘Too well. She has a taste for red wine.’
    He raised his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth pulled down. ‘I’m impressed. Fleur doesn’t really mix with the locals.’
    ‘She’s much friendlier than Kevin.’ Tiffany put the cup down. ‘And I’m not local. We had a real girls’ night.’
    ‘Really!’ He laughed and shook his head as he stood up. ‘Well, well, well. You and Fleur.’ He laughed again.
    ‘I’d better go and leave you in peace. Thanks for breakfast.’
    ‘You’re welcome,’ said Tiffany.
    ‘Before I go though...allow me.’ He took the paper napkin from the table and walked around to Tiffany’s side of the table. She sat transfixed as he gently wiped her forehead.
    ‘Sugar,’ he said and tossed the napkin onto the egg-smeared plate.
    He sauntered along the footpath, yellow and white shirt flapping casually over baggy khaki linen shorts, then disappeared into the surf shop. Tiffany, still frozen in place, swivelled her head cautiously and looked down the street. No-one. No-one opposite. No-one watching her being publicly washed and vacuumed. She could pretend that hadn’t happened. Except it had.
    She picked up her triangle of toast and took a bite. The fluid and aspirins were beginning to work. Xanthi came out and inspected the empty plate. Tiffany held up the piece of toast and smiled innocently. Xanthi beamed.
    ‘You’ll feel much better now.’
    ‘I do, thank you,’ agreed Tiffany.
    Xanthi swooped on the used crockery and