The place is small, a quiet cafe on the outskirts of London, a morning after a rainstorm. Ronnie sits at a table by the window, reading a newspaper. The second one in front of him is empty. A kettle, two cups, but The waitress has already asked three times if there is anyone else to wait. Each time he replies: "She will come. Take your time." The door opens quietly, she enters. In a dark coat, no makeup, her hair tied in a messy bun.