Clorinda/Caradoc
"I hope you're not asking to be fed by hand, Clor. I don't know where my hands have been in the last twenty-four hours."
The Phoenix was one of the older establishments, refined without being overbearing. He had avoided it for the longest time after he had made the mistake of having a fling with the owner's daughter (...right there in the kitchen), but now she was happily married and the memory of the owner was thankfully failing, so he pushed through the doors with Clorinda by his side.
Finally some relief from the sunlight and the chattering masses. He led her to a table in a corner that was out of the way, but from where he could keep his eyes on all exits and windows. And then he slumped into a comfortable chair. The hat was taken off begrudgingly. The glasses stayed put.
"Order away, love. Just order me coffee. Lots and lots of black coffee. After that I'll tell you why I am here."