Mariana was confused. Firstly she was confused to see her employer sitting in Café Frank on a Saturday morning when he would normally have been in Finland, secondly she was confused by the look on Esko's face of desperate and distant pain. He was looking at her as if she was a complete stranger. Maybe it was not Esko at all. Maybe the Member of the European Parliament was employing a double so that he could be somewhere else entirely.

'Esko?' she asked tentatively, pausing as she unwrapped her scarf.

He took a moment to respond, studying her face. She frowned. Gradually his eyes seemed to link back to his mind.

'Oh, Mariana. I'm sorry. I was thinking too hard.' Mariana noticed that he closed a notebook hurriedly as he spoke. 'What are you doing here?'

She shrugged. 'Same as you.'

Esko smiled as if he doubted it. 'Are you meeting somebody? Or would you like to join me?' He was hoping she would say no, he realised. It had been an instinctive invitation but he really did not want to discuss work, politics or the state of the world that morning. Neither did he want to spend too much time alone with the junior and more neurotic of his two assistants. She was a young party enthusiast, just as Rikka had been at the same age, and though he was happy to have her around the office, this morning she was a combination of reminder, distraction and warning that he was finding immediately difficult.

She smiled back, pulled out the spare chair and sat, unravelling the multicoloured scarf that seemed to be unending, 'Thanks, I'd love too. I'm not seeing anyone till later, I mean…' she wondered whether she had somehow disappointed him, 'I can stay as long as you like. I often come in for the music. I like it here.'

'So do I. Somehow all the noise makes it very peaceful.'

'Peaceful?' Mariana's confusion extended.

'Yes. I don't have to notice other people. There is too much noise to hear their conversations and too many to draw attention to themselves.'

'I see,' said Mariana, but didn't.

'Can I get you a coffee, or a drink?'

'Yes, please. Oh, no – not yet. I need to smoke first.' She began to wind up the scarf she had just unwound far enough to leave only one revolution round her neck.

'Well, when you are ready, what would you like?', Esko asked, relaxing at the thought that he would have a few moments of solitude left so that he could banish the pointless dreams of Rikka. 'I'll have it waiting for you by the time you've finished.'

Mariana was standing again. 'Not coffee,' she admitted, 'I have that all week. Would a glass of rosé be too much?'

'Not at all,' said Esko. If anything it was probably cheaper than the coffee, he thought.

He watched Mariana walk out through the door and reappear lighting a cigarette on the other side of the window before making any movement himself. The smile faded from his face as he looked down at the notebook, opened its cover, and saw the pathetic scrawls of Rikka's name. Was she just too busy with her own rise to fame and glory to have time for him, he wondered, or was she really being a calculating bitch who now had better fish to fry?

Esko waited until he could see Mariana had half finished her fag before going to the bar and asking Elise for her wine, and another beer for himself. As he turned back to the table, he nearly collided with a woman, Catrina, who was walking behind him on the way to the underground toilet.

'So sorry,' she said in English, 'that seems to be happening all the time to me today.' Esko returned her wan smile and sat down, just as Mariana pushed through the curtains and joined him to claim her wine. He wondered what on earth they were going to talk about.

'I thought you would be in Finland?' she began.

'No need. And besides, two days here is as good as a rest.'

His assistant's brow furrowed, 'But didn't we refuse an invitation from Moldova because you are too busy?'

'Possibly – and I am: for Moldova.'

Mariana look troubled. 'Isn't it important?'

'No.'

She sipped her very small glass of wine, served in a thick water glass, the café's way of showing it only approved of beer.

Esko could see that her estimation of him was slipping. She was serious about everything, he realised, and it probably didn't matter whether it was the future of Moldova or the yellow bellied Amazon tree frog, she expected him, as an MEP, to rush out and save it. Suddenly he was very tired of earnest young women. Mariana was staring at her glass, perhaps trying to come up with another starting line for the conversation. He wasn't going to help her. He had come to Café Franck for a solitary morning drink and he would have it on his own terms, whether it alienated her or not. The music was edging up in volume anyway, cutting out the need for constant talk.

Catrina climbed the narrow stairs back into the café from the toilet and started on her way back to her new privileged position at the staff table. She was feeling nicely tipsy, just enough of a champagne high to make the world feel a wonderful place. Then she spotted Mariana. They had seen each other a few times in the lift at the Parliament. Catrina was on the floor above her, she thought, and once or twice they had shared a table in the level 3 bar – but then who hadn't? It was the place where most of Europe hung out when they couldn't face the computer or the committee meetings were too dull to be borne any longer. Mariana looked strained, Catrina thought. Perhaps the man she was with was giving her a hard time.

'Hi,' said Catrina, stopping by the table, her back to Esko, 'do you live round here?'

Mariana looked up and gradually recognised Catrina. 'Not far,' she admitted, 'do you want to join us?'

'No thanks, I'm sitting up by the music already.' She looked Esko critically. Maybe the girl (she couldn't remember the name, if she had ever known it) needed rescuing, 'but you can come up there with me if you want.'

'Well…' Mariana looked nervously at Esko.

'You go on,' he said, trying desperately not to looked relieved, 'you see enough of me all week.'

'If you're sure?'

'Sure.'

'Thanks.'

'Who's he?' asked Catrina with an edge as they turned he corner of the bar out of Esko's sight.

'My boss. Esko.'

'Creepy?'

'I don't think so.' Mariana was frowning, though, and trying to analyse the conversation as she sat down across from Catrina. He certainly had not done anything creepy. He had shown no interest in her whatever. Maybe she hated that. Maybe she didn't. A few minutes later, as Patrice folded her under the same wing as Catrina, she no longer cared. Catrina, though, read too much into the barman's welcome and was instantly depressed and jealous in equal measure. She decided to get drunk before lunch.