WHITE MUG WITH BLUE SPOTS

I was in town sitting at a round metal table just next to a closed up and over garage door at the corner of Bridge and Baldwin, drinking coffee from a white mug with blue spots, bought from Shepton Mallet a Summer or two ago.
When I’d finished I went to meet her at the bottom end of a slight incline on the edge of the Centre. She was wearing faded black jeans and a buttoned short mushroom coloured cardigan.
We said things to each other then I asked if she’d like a coffee and she said she would.
Moving towards her said, ‘how is he?’ then moved away not wanting to hear what she said.
Went back to fetch coffee from where I’d left, but now couldn’t find, my mug. The garage door’d been opened and a woman rummaged just inside the entrance while another circled the table.
Looking for my mug I saw others, old and dirty. Then there, under the table tucked behind one of the legs, was a white mug with blue spots like mine, only it was bigger and cleaner.
I bent down picked it up made ready to go back to her then remembered I’d left my daughter at home eating breakfast alone.