"Thank you," I said with another smile as one of the waiters came to our table, carrying with him a tray of tea and cups and little sandwiches. My memories of my mother were still mostly muddled, things almost entirely lost to the past, but I had a sense of this being familiar. Our tea wouldn't have been as nice as this, we never would have been able to afford it, but I could still feel something of my mother in the practice.

It was a nice feeling.

"I have a favour to ask you," I admitted once the tea was set down and the waiter had left. "I don't think it's a big favour. Maybe it is. Eddie said I should ask you sooner rather than later."