Chapter Text
Eloise sighs, breathing in the fresh, steamily congested air of Edinburgh Waverley Station, having travelled from the Sheffield Docfest, her final work assignment until the next one after two weeks. It is a welcome change after having endured the tightest window seat and almost uncomfortable conversation of a man having a phone conversation and wheezing so hard it hit her eardrum.
She texted Pen, hey, at Edi. Where are you?
She received a reply five minutes later- hey, got a bit delayed; fingers crossed. Meet me at Franco Manca in half hour? She then received a Google Maps link with a restaurant about 5 minutes’ walk from Waverley.
Eloise sighs, slipping her phone back in her pocket- she looked around, thinking, a good cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt. She could use the caffeine boost. She exits the platform and starts herding to the main exit where different cafes and restaurants would be present in the hopes of a cortado. If she were to be described as one, it would be the ideal descriptor.
She sighs in relief, finding a bougie Italian coffee cart, and half frustrated at the queue. Shouldering her handbag, Eloise drags her suitcase and attached carry-on to the queue. She itches to put her earphones on to listen to a podcast or smoke a cigarette, but she can’t stand the latter when drinking coffee for strange reasons.
Just then, something hits her legs and she yelps rather unwomanly in the middle of a train station. She looks down and sees the assailant- a brown and white puppy, what looks to be a mix of Australian sheepdog and border collie, with big wide blue eyes. The pup, claws at her legs, wagging its tail and she smiles as she kneels to get a hold of the leash to avoid tangling the dog’s legs and read the collar for an owner’s name. Unfortunately, the only thing visibly written was a “P. Crane” and the nametag blank. She scowls, as she scratches the dog’s ears. “What idiot hasn’t named his dog yet?” she muses.
“Pup!” An exasperated male voice, cries out. “Uh, sorry miss. I-”
She looks up to see the speaker, a man about the same age as her, maybe a bit older. He stops short upon seeing her, and she smiles as she straightened up, handing the leash. “It’s fine, although it would be highly recommended that you give the dog a name, before he’s confused for P. Crane and his owner as Pup, a Richard Parker situation.”
He chuckles, taking the leash. “Well, do you have a recommendation?”
She looks down at the pup, looking up with the softest eyes, that reminded her all too well of Nanny, her family dog of all of 12 years. It was the brown mane, that reminded her of her need for caffeine. “Looks like a cortado, my drink of choice.”
The dog yipped in response, jumping at her. “Easy,” The man, says. “I think he likes you. Or the name.” He tests it out, “So buddy? Like the name cortado?”
The pup raises his head, as if to respond yes, pawing at his shoes. “Well, it’s settled.” He looks at her, “Well, thank you-”
“Eloise. Ledger.” In reality, she was Eloise Bridgerton, but for the sake of work and privacy, she chose to go under her mother’s maiden name. It is only then that she gets a good glimpse at the man- light brown hair with shaggy curls in the front, a trimmed beard, white shirt and jacket with the kind of backpack you would see on trekking trips.
She turns to see the queue having dissipated. “Well, excuse me. I better get my cortado.”
“Wait, let me buy it for you. As a thank you.”
“I think I can get my own coffee. Without the extra chivalry.” She says.
“Please, I insist.”
She sighs, relenting, as he steps forward and orders a cortado “with a dash of cinnamon and brown sugar” along with a flat white with cocoa dusting for himself and a dog treat.
“Cinnamon?”
“Trust me on this.” He says, with a wink.
As they wait, he bends down to the dog, pulling a marker. After a minute of scribbling, he straightens up and says, “Well, he’s officially Cortado Crane. And he has a number.”
“How old is he?”
“About 5 months- I got him from a foster recently.”
She nods. “That’s nice.” She realizes something, “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh, it’s Phillip.”
“Nice to meet you Phillip.”
Their drinks arrive and Phillip guides them both to a free bench. Eloise watches him pick Cortado up and feed him the treat. She inhales her drink and takes a tentative sip, immediately loving the cinnamon with the bitterness of the coffee. She averts a glance at Phillip, though she can tell that he knows she has conceded defeat that she does like it.
“So, you’re here on vacation?”
Eloise looks over. “Something like that. You?”
“Same.” He hesitates before asking, “Would you like to meet up sometime?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know this place a lot and could use a fellow traveller, dare I say, friend? And I think Cortado likes you.”
“Um, I’m not alone, my brother and my best friend are with me, so I don’t know.”
He nods. He looks down at the marker in his pocket, and hitting a quick idea, he pulls the cap open. “May I?”, motioning to her exposed arm.
She hesitates, but eventually, holds her arm open. He writes down a series of numbers. “Just in case, you change your mind. Or if not, then the next time I see you, you can let me know.”
She smiles. “Okay.” She checks her watch and blanches. She was supposed to meet Pen right about now. “Shit, I gotta go.” She chugs the last of her coffee, and grabbing her bags, adjusting her backpack. “Well, see you Phillip and thanks for the coffee.”
“My pleasure.” Phillip says.
She hears Cortado whine helplessly, and she crouches down to get a parting lick. “Be good to your Dad okay?” in a decibel that only the dog could hear.
She half-walks, half-runs to the restaurant, almost huffing and nearly tripping with a tram line before finally reaching the restaurant, a Neapolitan pizza place. She sees Penelope, having grabbed a table at the back and slid in the empty seat opposite her.
“Sorry, I’m late. Lost track of time.”
Amused, Pen sees the numbers, “are those smudged numbers the reasons why?”
Eloise looks down, panicking at the sight at the almost indecipherable numbers on her forearm. “Oh shit!” She tried reading the numbers to salvage and write the number on a napkin but it was too late.
Pen shrugs, “Who is he?”
“Some guy backpacking through Western Europe. Although he has a knack for switching different coffees up. And he has a dog.”
Penelope gasps. “I want a dog. Maybe Colin and I could adopt one.”
“Please regale your relationship milestones to someone else.” Eloise says. If she were to be honest, Eloise still remembers the shock and hurt when Colin and Pen announced to the Bridgertons, that they were officially dating and everyone, including Violet were overjoyed, with little Hyacinth choking Pen with a full-bodied hug. And Eloise felt the sting but pulled herself together and wished them well. Eventually, Colin came around and apologized to Eloise for not telling her privately first and Eloise let it go. But she still struggled with the idea of now being the third wheel in her brother and best friend’s relationship.
There could have been many solutions for handling it, such as Eloise dating someone, but Eloise had her reservations about it. She was one of the rare Bridgertons who declared at 15, that she would marry at 40, be celibate until then and find a guy who could accommodate her career aspirations and the chances were as low as a needle in a haystack.
Pen holds her hands in surrender. “Okay. Anyway, do you think we’d see this guy soon?”
“I don’t know Pen. You of all people know, I don’t believe in that Taylor Swift invisible string theory.”
Pen shakes her head. “You never know.” She looks at the lunch menu. “want to try this pizza, calzone thing with me? We can ride to Costorphine and Colin will eventually join us at a steakhouse nearby with his co-worker.”
Eloise looks up. “Co-worker.”
“Yeah, Colin texted me, saying that he invited his co-worker and apparently, they were roommates at Uni for about a year before the guy transferred.”
She looks at Eloise. “at least, you will have someone to talk to over dinners.”
“That’s if he isn’t a wanker like the ones Colin has befriended on occasion.”
~
Meet me at Oink Hog Roast.
https://maps.app.goo.gl/76MWca8KC2xy2aLcA
Phillip heads out of Edinburgh Waverley, his new dog, now officially christened as Cortado trotting beside him. The journey is about 10 minutes-walk with minor pauses as the occasional Edinburgh tram passing through the alleys and a sudden rainshower, pulling up his hood. He eventually makes it, shaking the rain out of his hair and seeing Colin. They hug it out, and opting to takeaway, they detail their orders to the young waitress and then head outside to the park nearby which unexpectedly starts shining again with sunlight. The perks of Scottish weather one might say.
As they sit near the Scott monument and bite into their sandwiches, Colin says, “So, by the way, Pen knows about you and the place we’re staying has an extra guest room for you since the host wasn’t able to get someone to rent the room.”
“I’ll Monzo you the money.” Phillip says in between bites. He tosses a bit of roast to Cortado who snaps it up eagerly.
Colin looks at it. “You know I think once Pen and I move in together, we might adopt a dog. It’s been a while, since Nanny.”
“Who?”
“Nanny, my family’s dog. It was a Bernese, died 3 years ago. I don’t think many of my siblings recovered.”
He nods. “So, it’s just me and you and your girlfriend?”
“Nope, my sister will be there. First vacation in years, since her graduation.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, El could be described as a workaholic, such as yourself. You two might actually hit it off. Let’s see it tonight at dinner- there’s a steakhouse near our place.”
Phillip rolled his eyes, as he took another bite of his sandwich.
An hour before, he might have played along. But now, after having met the grey-eyed woman who gave his dog his name and he scribbled his number with one of the worst markers that could easily smudge on human flesh compared to stationary, he wasn’t that enthused.
Of course, the odds of him meeting her in a city brimming with tourists could be like finding an unlabelled postcard in a pile of unsorted mail. And those weren’t of a dependable sort in human circumstances.
~