<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rob points to the family. \u2018Holly, can you show these customers to table six please?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The waitress strolls over and flips the scanner out of her apron pocket. The facial rec verifies that George Taylor, Nicola Park-Lawson and Flora Park-Lawson are 48, 54 and 21 years old respectively. \u2018I have to check,\u2019 the girl says flatly as she thumbs the screen, \u2018that you\u2019re over eighteen. And that you\u2019re not wearing faunal.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
George rolls his eyes, Nicola raises her brows and Flora tries to sneak a glimpse of the scanner\u2019s screen as the waitress moves it up and down her body. \u2018Wasn\u2019t this Todd\u2019s Chop House? After Groucho\u2019s moved over the road?\u2019 says George.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
we keep table six and seven for those not yet fully pledged to plant-based living<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018In here,\u2019 the waitress says when the scanning\u2019s over, then adds, \u2018please.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n The trio look round. Although it\u2019s windowless, it\u2019s a pleasant space, much nicer than the main part of the caf\u00e9, which is unlit and austere (\u2018hard-core Veco,\u2019 Flora had said before they\u2019d entered, \u2018with nothing unnecessary\u2019). This room has ochre-coloured walls rather than sepia brick. There are four, yes four, copper lights, four CCTV cameras, some huge pictures of shaggy, big-eyed highland calves and two large and gleaming but as yet unset tables which look like they can be pushed together. After the weight of dullness outside, the brown cavern of the front caf\u00e9, the January greys of the Nethergate beyond and its wan and spent pedestrians, the room scintillates.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018You\u2019ll have to wait till we get a table ready,\u2019 the waitress says, indicating they should stand in a corner of the room, and George clamps his jaw. Nicola knows the gesture. She only just managed to convince him to come to a caf\u00e9, for Flora, for Flora\u2019s birthday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I\u2019m a sheep farmer\u2019s son,\u2019 George had said. \u2018The sheep lived better than we<\/em> did.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018But Flora wants to go out for once George. It\u2019s her twenty-first.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n Flora was late to plant-based. As a child Nicola had fed her cheese and milk and butter and cream, even beef and lamb on special occasions. The caf\u00e9 know this of course. From the facial rec and the booking pre-check.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The waitress takes their coats and George looks happier. \u2018Shouldn\u2019t be long,\u2019 she says and their shoulders relax.<\/p>\n\n\n\n our dining snug is sound-proofed for your privacy<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Their bodies tighten again when they hear a churning, rattling sound beneath their feet. It\u2019s not loud but it wasn\u2019t there before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Want to know what happens next? This story and others are<\/em> available on<\/em> The Low Road: A Celebration of Dundee’s Nethergate, available on this website.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Or you can download a PDF version of this story here: –<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n