His hopeful expression fell by degrees to one of solemn curiosity. Here was another thing that wasn't quite right: by now, Sorcha Cooper should be well on her way to a [i]collection[/i] of prestigious awards, not shuffling coffee and beans-on-toast at a half-wage eatery on the edge of nowhere. Of course, there were a thousand things wrong with this universe (the man-eating monsters that dropped out of the sky, for starters) but for Sorcha Cooper to have never set foot on a big-time stage meant the time stream had gone wrong far earlier than he'd thought.

The grin reappeared on his face, and he shifted up straight. "Right then, sorry, my mistake." There was no reason to torture the poor girl -- it was obvious that she [i]had[/i] dreams of the stage, and maybe a part of her knew she was meant for brighter lights, but persisting with thoughts of what [i]should[/i] have been would only be cruelty at this point.

He grabbed a laminated menu and scanned it with keen interest, his stomach rumbling. "Fish 'n chips, please," he smiled amiably up at her, "and a cuppa tea." He thought he was finished, but glanced at the menu again. "Oh, and a side of bacon, and a side of mash with gravy. And a milkshake. Strawberry, with that swirly whipped cream on top, I love that. And sprinkles! Sprinkles would be fantastic."

He gave her the pleasantest of smiles, determined for all the world that she should have a better day than he was having. "And before you go, if you could tell me, Sorcha Cooper, how long ago was it these Reapers started showing up? When was the first one sighted? Where was it, who saw it? Has anyone given a guess about why? Has the city seemed to be [i]shrinking[/i] at all?" The mild interested expression on his face was starkly juxtaposed with the intense gravity in his eyes. Should things go on the way they were, the lack of a stage would be the least of Sorcha Cooper's regrets.