March 2026

This month, the Welston Book Worms gathered on home turf at the Bookish Barista. This felt only right, given that March’s selection (courtesy of our unflagging chair, Sonia Featherstone) was Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold is a series of intertwined tales set in a small Tokyo coffee shop with a rather unusual gift. Patrons may travel back in time, but only to moments when they previously visited the café. And there are rules. One must sit in a chair ordinarily occupied by a ghost. One must not leave the seat. And one must drink a specially brewed cup of coffee before it gets cold. Should you fail to follow the rules, you take the place of the chair’s previous occupant.

Joe Halton opened proceedings by apologising for Alfred Bushwell’s absence (a doctor’s appointment, we were assured). Joe then made a confession that caused several heads to turn. He had searched high and low for a television adaptation and, finding none, had read the book from cover to cover.

Reader, he wept.

More specifically, he faltered during his account of the story in which a wife travels back to see her husband, now lost to Alzheimer’s. At that moment, it became clear that Joe’s uncharacteristic diligence had not been about the absence of a screen version. Some stories go straight for the heart.

Gerard Savin was similarly afflicted. Each time he attempted to praise the book’s tenderness, his voice collapsed under the weight of feeling. Serviettes were deployed early and often.

Constance Dilmore, meanwhile, rolled her eyes with a metronome’s rhythm. When pressed, she declared the character development ‘thin’ and the emotional arcs ‘structurally convenient.’ Gerard, briefly restored to speech, suggested that Constance might benefit from a feelings transplant.

At which point Eleanora Reingold rose — figuratively, if not literally — to call a point of order. Members, she reminded us, must respect differing views and refrain from heckling. Gerard insisted he hadn’t heckled but merely observed a medical necessity.

Sonia, to her credit, attempted to steer us back to the book itself, naming the story of the mother and daughter as the most devastating of the collection. This effectively ended hostilities, as Gerard stood once more, ostensibly for additional serviettes, though he returned bearing a plate of macaroons as a peace offering.

There are few conflicts in Welston that cannot be softened by almond flour and sugar.

Constance, before accepting a biscuit, conceded that the premise was ‘admittedly intriguing.’ This was as close to a standing ovation as we were likely to achieve. By evening’s end, we agreed that whatever its perceived structural shortcomings, Before the Coffee Gets Cold is a gentle, melancholic reminder that we rarely say what we need to say while we still have the chance, and that sometimes the bravest thing one can do is sit still and finish one’s coffee.