Brent's 'phone beeped, embarrassingly loud - not for the first time he resolved to turn the sound down, but not for the first time he would put it off and eventually forget about it - and he checked the message.

"All done. On my way back."

Then, a moment later:

"You still at the same café?"

Brent texted back in the affirmative, and picked the froth from the side of his coffee cup with his spoon. Again his waiter came past as soon as he'd finished. "Gonna go for the trifecta?" he asked.

"Nah, she's on her way back" Brent replied.

"Gonna get you to carry the shopping back to the car, eh?"

Brent snorted. "The bus." He didn't feel like he was betraying Catherine by not defending her: how would she even know? And why would she care what some waiter said? Especially when that waiter would likely forget about it by tomorrow's shift, anyway. Besides, it was probably true: Brent probably would end up carrying most of her shopping. But he didn't mind: it was the boyfriend's role, he figured. He'd been brought up that way, kind of traditional.

The rain that had been lingering for the last three days suddenly returned: icy arrows of rain as hard and as fast and as sudden as lightning. A few moments later Catherine ran into the café, holding shopping bags over her head. "Jesus!" she squealed, immediately making herself the centre of attention. Brent stood up to get her attention, and by so doing hoped to calm her: he'd been sitting here quietly for the last hour, and he didn't want to suddenly disrupt everyone. The sound of the rain grew louder: loud enough to drown out any normal conversation.

He tried anyway. "Did it get you?" he asked Catherine when she sat down, but he could see that it had: she was dripping. He looked around for the waiter, who he suddenly figured to be something of a friend, at least for today. Catherine was starting to shiver.

"Hey, mate!" Brent shouted, no longer caring about how loud he was. "Can we get a towel? She got caught in the rain." He looked at Catherine, who was picking wet strands of hair out of her eyes. "Did you get anything nice?" he asked, trying to be supportive.