Chapter Two

Isaac remained quiet as they wandered down to the car park, a small area that always seemed practically empty even when the museum was fairly full. He preferred the bus since he always found his car seemed under siege by the birds nesting in the trees lining near the tarmac. And car wash cost added up over time, he needed those wages for living and not cleaning bird mess from his windows.

"When I looked online at the menu it all looked pretty good," Ash broke the silence as they turned onto the street.

"Decent range of prices as well which is rare for around here, people take advantage of the visitors."

He looked at the scenery as it passed. Grey, concrete and tarmac, so different from the materials they were surrounded by in the museum. Each piece telling a story of a long-lost land, he couldn't imagine any of the modern architecture doing that in years to come. Mass produced and almost identical.

Further from the city, past the outskirts the view looked better, the home and buildings having some character and uniqueness about them. One day he hoped to own a place away from the cars and crush, but at the moment that was far beyond his reach.

"I sometimes wonder what people would think of us in a few hundred years," he said thoughtfully as he turned his eyes back to the interior "whether they'd think we're as primitive as we see those in the past."

Isaac's musing beside him drew a hum from the Ash's lips. "Honestly, I don't think that a lot of these things we build our homes with will last. They'll degrade and erode. Even our modern-day nails aren't that great. Nothing compared to those nice, square nails people used to use." It was more than that, obviously. Even the roads were eroding quickly compared to some of the roads used in Rome. He sighed slightly, feeling somewhat unsettled by the revelation. "They'll likely think we are pretty primitive..."

Their work in metallurgy was perhaps the only impressive thing about them. Everything else had become a battle to do things cheaply, losing out on quality. He bit his lip; the lead up to the coffee bar door was a welcomed relief from the topic.

A coffee bar was his first call of a morning; he adored the delicious scent of freshly roasted beans combined with the more decadent smell of newly baked pastries. Those he would attempt to avoid although temptation was occasionally given into on the weekend as a treat, gave him something extra to look forward to and he didn't manage to eat much during the week days.

This one seemed pleasant, the tables spaciously placed so people weren't crammed together like sardines and the décor simple but warm.

And unlike some places the servers actually had a uniform that covered their privates. He'd been in all too many places where he felt he had to avert his gaze when they leant over lest their breasts burst free.

They found a small table in the corner of the room next to a large potted plant that offered a little more privacy. It was also near the coffee grinder, sending a rich aroma of freshly ground beans their way.

"What do you want? I'll get it this time," Ash asked as he craned his neck to look at the board. "You can pay next time; I'll pick a really expensive place."

"You'll end up washing dishes if you do," Isaac smiled "I can't even afford premium supermarkets that often, as you well know!"

"I don't think getting dish hands is worth an overpriced lunch," Ash chuckled as he got up to take his wallet from his pocket. "I'd rather cook myself."

"Cost effective and therapeutic," Isaac gave a wink, his long lashes framing his eyes charmingly "and I'll just have black coffee, it'll tide me over."

He sat back as Ash went to order, watching people come and go. It was a hobby that he seldom tired of, watching the haste or slowness, the twitch of the facial muscles and poise of the body. It told a story, one he'd never know, but it kept him wondering about each person.

The moment was broken by a woman clattering down into the table beside him talking loudly on her phone. 

Perfume flowed from her in waves, covering the pleasant scent of coffee, wafted his way more strongly as she flung her coat off.

"There's a queue but at least they've got decent staff on," she held her phone between chin as she picked up the mug.

"That guy last time was useless and seriously," she took a long sip, leaving a scarlet stain on the white rim. "I told him so as well, they threatened to have me banned but I spend a goddamned fortune here, they know better!"

Her laugh pierced his ears and all those near her.

"Money talks, Hun!"

Isaac winced and tried to concentrate on the outside world rather than the conversation he didn't want to be privy to. He vaguely heard someone ask her to lower her voice, only to be met by a barrage of complaint.

"Why the hell are you listening anyway? It's a private conversation!" 

"Maybe she ought to keep it that way," Ash muttered under his breath as he returned, giving his colleague an apologetic smile. "Sorry about this. I saw her in one of the local stores, this is standard by the looks of it."

"Why are you sorry?" Isaac took the cup "it's hardly your fault people can't be covert and anyway, I saw some pretty cute dogs go past, someone had one of those with big ears, the kind I was thinking of getting in a mongrel form."

Ash shook his head and sat down opposite, offering over the raisin tray bake he'd picked up to share between them. The cake was still warm but the taste would be tainted by the overpowering perfume that soiled the senses.

"Do you think that figure might really be something new?" Ash asked as he stirred his drink, waiting for it to cool and trying to ignore their neighbour. "We're overdue for something interesting."

It wasn't only for excitement. The museum needed some upgrades and with the current donations down from the year prior it was more important to push whatever they had to bring in the custom. The art exhibition had done well but there was nothing exclusive and that could limit the market.

"Who knows? It's be nice to think so and it certainly look genuine, if it's a forgery then someone went to extreme lengths."

"Yeah," Ash looked away "I'm going to sound stupid but it actually gives me the creeps. I don't know what it is about it but it just feels...odd." He snorted at his own preposterous thinking. "I'd say it feels like it's cursed or something."

"The only curse is what your own mind creates," Isaac said sedately "putting together thoughts and a string of coincidences, at least that's how I think. I might be wrong."

"I hope not," Ash burned his throat as he swallowed. The woman was getting louder and her constant shifting to show off her shapely legs or expensive accessories was annoying him. "Although there sure are people I'd like to see a curse on."

"Old objects have strange auras," Isaac tactfully ignored the latter remark. "They're thousands of years old, they've passed through more than we could ever hope to see. That idea alone can send shivers up the spine."

They fell silent, unable to hear their soft chatter well enough over the constant chirping from nearby. The coffee was good though and in different circumstances it was a place where one could sit for some time and relax or work. At the present time they, and most others, just wanted to finish and leave.

The noise of the traffic was a welcome relief when they stepped back outside. Even the scent of exhaust was more tolerable than the perfume.

"I..."

"Don't," Isaac held up a hand with a smile "you don't need to start apologising again, these things happen, OK?"

"The barista said she'd probably have been quieter if she hadn't got a point to prove from her last visit. Apparently, they had a guy working there who was pretty bad," Ash plunged his hands into his pockets. "She had a blazing argument and it ended unpleasantly. They were going to fire him anyway but she seems to want to take credit for the last straw, and brag that she feels she keeps the place open."

"Make enemies rather than friends, interesting concept."

Isaac glanced back through the tinted glass window, just in time to see her practically slap someone as she threw her hand back with dramatic aplomb. He shuddered, there certainly could be worse jobs.

"At least we might have something exciting to get back to," he added weakly "Lord knows we all need it."