“It’s you! It’s really you!”

Brenda positively vibrated with excitement. Veronica Davis was sat right here in front of her, in HER coffee shop, drinking coffee. Just like a normal human.

The woman looked up, her eyes raising quizzically above her thick rimmed reading glasses. She gently placed her book down on the table and cross her hands in her lap.

“Hi. I’m surprised you recognised me, it’s never happened before.” She replied, a small smile cracking at the corner of her mouth.

“No ones ever recognised the author of the tenants of the good housewife? I don’t believe it.” Brenda fumbled around in her handbag, she always carried the small book with her, her bible, something to live by. The tool that landed her the husband of her dreams. She pulled the book out the jumbled mess of her bag and thrust it at the author. The woman’s face fell, she sighed slightly and took a deep breath.

“Oh, that book. That was a long time ago. I was a different person, I don’t believe in that stuff now.”

Brendas stomach flipped, she saw the disappointed look in the woman’s face, the book held in her outstretched hand suddenly felt heavier. This book had taught her how to be a good wife, to be subservient, to support her husband. It even let her land Gary, the stockbroker with a mansion and a Lamborghini. How could she not believe in this? It worked!

“But, I’ve followed everything you said, it’s worked perfectly for me.” Brenda pleaded with the woman, the book now held against her chest, close to her heart.

“Look. I’m glad that you feel you got something from it I guess, but I’m ashamed of that book. I was a different person, in a different place then. If I’d I known the damage I’d have caused to females across the country writing that I never would have written it. Everything I wrote in there marginalises you, me, our entire gender. You should throw it out right now.”

Brendas hands dropped to her side, she felt crestfallen. If the book was wrong, then everything about her life was wrong.

The author smiled awkwardly, picked up her book and stood to leave. She stepped quickly past Brenda and towards the door. Brenda turned and lifted her hand to say something, but she didn’t know what. She watched mutely as the Veronica exited the coffee shop, her arm dropped back down to her side. She felt herself visibly deflate.

She put the book down at the table where Veronica had been sat and turned to leave. Suddenly she didn’t feel like a coffee.