Agitation at hearing Dad say this makes my neck itch. He reaches up to the shelves near the table and takes hold of his favourite photo. ‘Alice, have you been turning this photo around again?’
In the photo Pete and me are on the beach smiling into the camera. I am holding Lucas, who is a few months old and hiding under a giant baby sun hat. We look like a perfect family. ‘To this day I still can’t believe you and Pete split up.’ He gazes at the photo. ‘Now that you are back home, I have been hoping this could be a chance.’
‘A chance for what?’ My voice is sharp and makes Dad jolt.
‘You and Pete to make things work. It would make me so happy.’
Closing my eyes, I massage my temples and stop myself from telling Dad for the billionth time that Pete and I have been apart for five years and there is no likelihood of me ever getting back with him.
CHAPTERNINE
It’s my first day at managing Frankie’s café.
Yesterday I’d said an emotional farewell to Frankie. ‘Take care of yourself, lovely girl,’ Frankie whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
‘Give my love to your mum. I haven’t prayed since Sunday School but I’m going to start for her sake,’ I croaked, shutting my eyes tight and sending God a quick silent prayer about Rose.
Frankie chuckled. ‘You never prayed in Sunday School as we were always too busy messing about.’
‘God will understand,’ I sniffed, clinging onto my best mate. ‘He’ll have forgotten about all the mischief we got up to in the vestry.’
Frankie stroked my long red hair, and his finger got stuck in a knot which made us both forget our sadness and giggle.
My day has not started well. I’m outside the café trying desperately to get bird poo off my top with a wet wipe from my handbag.
Dad took Lucas to school, so I decided to go down to the beach and watch the sea rush in and out. I’d hoped it would stop me panicking at the almost impossible task before me. The sea and the weather reflected my mood. An irritable grey sea took out its frustrations on a miserable damp beach much to the amusement of a gang of rowdy seagulls who sounded like they were cackling with laughter.
Last night I’d planned to read through my training notes, but Lucas wanted an extra-long bedtime story and I fell asleep beside him.
Whilst I sat on the beach, I’d taken out my notes from my bag to have a quick scan over. I wanted to come across as knowledgeable and prepared. The seagull poo disaster occurred shortly after I’d placed the notes on my lap and looked up at the sky to silently ask God whether I could outshine Noah at everything today. This would make him question why he was needed at The Little Love Café and possibly leave by lunchtime. God clearly hasn’t forgiven me for the mischief Frankie and I got up to at Sunday School when we were kids as I was hit by a missile of seagull poo which made me yell. Frustratingly it had missed my coat and hit my top. I walked along to the café cursing seagulls, Frankie’s decision to open a love-themed café and ex-boyfriends who showed up unexpectedly after twenty years of ghosting you.
‘Hello.’ It’s him. He’s behind me. I whirl around and he greets me with an awkward glance. I survey his tan coloured leather jacket, a blue checked shirt, and jeans. His outfit suits him. From a young age Noah always wore clothes that looked good on him. He never went through the fashion wilderness which I found myself in between the years of twelve and seventeen, where any combination of colour and patterns were thrown together.
I have opted for an old black long-sleeved top, which now sports an ugly white stain and an old pair of grey jogging bottoms.
To my annoyance his eyes flick to the white stain on my black top. ‘You have some white paint on your… T-shirt.’
‘It’s not paint,’ I snap and rummage in my bag for the café keys.
‘You can try out Frankie’s pink uniform,’ says Noah, as my agitation levels rise.
Once the doors are open, I hurry to the baby pink counter and head out the back where Frankie said the pile of Little Love Café pink T-shirts and aprons were kept.
‘Have you found them?’ Noah asks, standing by the counter.
‘Yes thanks, Noah,’ I snap. Standing behind a cupboard so Noah can’t see me undress, I remove my stained top. I quickly pull on my new T-shirt. As I step out from behind the counter, I look up to see Noah staring at me. His eyes roam my T-shirt and heat travels up to my face.
‘Pink suits you, Alice,’ he says, as I grab a T-shirt and apron for him. There’s no way I am going to be the only one wearing this ridiculous uniform.
He groans. ‘Really?’
I take pleasure in nodding and flashing him a fake sugary smile. ‘Yes.’ He grimaces.
‘I don’t want to wear this,’ he says, holding up the bright pink clothing.
‘You don’t have a choice,’ I snap. ‘Put them on.’
When he walks out from behind the cupboard in his new pink attire looking uncomfortable, I turn away and savour this moment. Karma is seeing your ex-boyfriend wear a tight pink shirt with the words, ‘LITTLE LOVE CAFÉ,’ emblazoned across his chest.
