[Lunch hour. Smiley hands off the keys to the bookshop to another assistant manager and strolls down to the diner and tries not to feel any pleasure at all in the upcoming meeting with Kay. The thing is, this kind of interaction is comfortable, and some part of him hates that.]
[He takes a seat at the counter to Kay's left and orders a shandy and the day's special, which is a meatloaf in reddish gravy with a mash of the local potato-like tuber. It is, Smiley has to admit, far better than anything similar he's had in England in a very long time. Then again, better food than English food in his era is not a very difficult challenge.]
[There's a pause as he casts a sidelong glance at the jukebox, which is emitting noises he doesn't much care for either. Only then does he finally murmur a greeting to the man sitting next to him.]
no subject
[He takes a seat at the counter to Kay's left and orders a shandy and the day's special, which is a meatloaf in reddish gravy with a mash of the local potato-like tuber. It is, Smiley has to admit, far better than anything similar he's had in England in a very long time. Then again, better food than English food in his era is not a very difficult challenge.]
[There's a pause as he casts a sidelong glance at the jukebox, which is emitting noises he doesn't much care for either. Only then does he finally murmur a greeting to the man sitting next to him.]
Good afternoon.