Lucy was curious by nature and, even though no one else bothered to move, looked up when the door opened to see who came through it. It was a man she had never seen in the cafe before; he was tall with dark hair and handsome features. Lucy studied his face for a moment. While she had never seen him in the cafe, she was sure she recognized him from somewhere. Wracking her brain, Lucy turned her gaze to her teacup -- it wouldn't do to have him catch her staring. Where had she seen that man? Articles and photos from the Times flashed through her brain at a fast pace.. he wasn't a businessman, he hadn't been on the football teams.. suddenly a picture appeared in her mind's eye next to a short snippet about a man receiving recognition for his services to the British government. This was him.
Her heart fluttered with the prospect of talking to someone from home, someone who spoke good English and who didn't balk at her horrendous French accent. The distance between their tables was very short, only a couple of feet, so Lucy only had to lean over a bit to address him.
"Excuse me," she started. "But I think I might know you."