‘Let’s look at the bookings for today,’ I say, ignoring Noah mumble about feeling awkward in his uniform.
Frankie has left us the table bookings log and several sheets of A4 paper of notes. On the top of the first page in big bold letters and underlined are the words: ALICE BELIEVE IN LOVE.
The word makes me flinch.
We check the bookings log. I point to the top of the page for today. ‘We have Julie Hanbury and Graham Hitchcock coming at nine.’ A groan escapes my lips as I read their requirements. ‘Graham’s going to propose to Julie and has asked for rose petals to be chucked on the floor and the Snug is to be sprayed with that heavenly floral spray.’
‘Sounds romantic.’ Noah runs a hand through his golden hair and at once I am reminded of us sat together in class at school. Back then he used to have floppy blond hair. When the teacher wasn’t looking, he would turn to me, flick his fringe out of his eyes, and mouth, ‘I love you.’
I quickly dismiss the memory. ‘What a waste of good petals. Think we can skip that part.’
‘Alice, we must give Julie and Graham what they want. This is their special day, and we are here to celebrate them.’
I let out a sigh. ‘We don’t have to go over the top.’
Noah ignores me and looks at the booking log. ‘You look after Julie and Graham in the Snug out the back, and I’ll sort out here.’
After everything I have been through, the last thing I want to do is watch someone ask their loved one to marry them. It will bring back the memory I have of Scott bending down on one knee in the Indian restaurant in between courses and asking me to marry him. Worse still, it will take me back to when a certain someone and I had a pretend wedding in front of our special rock.
I can’t get the words out fast enough. ‘No, I’m not dealing with Julie and Graham. I’ve had enough of bloody marriage proposals to last me a lifetime…’ My voice cuts out and an awkward silence descends on us both. Noah and I both find interesting things to look at on the wooden floor beneath our feet.
Noah speaks first. ‘You manage out here, and I’ll deal with Julie and Graham.’
‘Fine.’ Turning away I use Frankie’s list as a fan to cool down my warm face.
‘I need to sort out the social media, too. Frankie wants me to take some shots of the café.’
This place is hell. I am even struggling with the heart-shaped menus. It’s also hard being forced to listen to a man and woman engage in what can only be described as loud kissing. They’ve been slobbering all over each other for the past half hour. Surely their lips must be getting sore. I can’t take this anymore and go to their table near the counter. ‘Excuse me?’ They both pull apart, breathless. ‘Do you think you could do that a little quieter? Many thanks.’
‘Graham has popped the question,’ announces Noah, coming to the counter with his silver tray. ‘She said yes.’
‘Lucky her,’ I mumble with an air of sarcasm, folding my arms across my chest.
Noah flicks his eyes to his pad. ‘They’ve ordered two…’ Noah mumbles something.
‘Sorry, Noah, what did you say?’
‘Two…Sexy Hot Chocolates with Whipped…’ Noah mumbles and points to the name of the drink on a heart-shaped menu.
‘Oh, right…’ I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Feeling flustered I set to work on the drinks and curse Frankie for his ridiculous drink names.
‘They look really happy together; Graham and Julie.’
People used to say that about Scott and me. Tears prick my eyes. We looked happy together. But then Scott went and ruined everything. What sort of man does that the day before his wedding? Did I mean that little to him?
‘You don’t seem very happy,’ Noah observes as I huff and puff behind the counter.
‘I’m great, Noah. Here you go,’ I say, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the drinks and trying my hardest not to burst into tears. I should still be in Ronald’s Starfish Tea Shop tucked away high up on the cliffs with nobody to talk to but the dodgy starfish hanging on the wall.
CHAPTERTEN
It’s the second day of working in Frankie’s café alongside Noah. I’m supposed to be making a drink order for the couple on table five, but I am watching Noah take a photo of two women standing against the flower wall.
There’s so much I want to say to him. I want to ask him about his life and why he’s back in Blue Cove Bay. I want to ask him why he ghosted my letters, but I must keep reminding myself that what happened all those years ago is in the past.
He was sixteen and looked like a Californian surfer dude when he set foot in Ireland. He was probably crushed by a stampede of beautiful Irish girls who couldn’t wait to hop into a relationship with him. The last thing Noah wanted was a clingy girlfriend back home in Blue Cove Bay. Irritation nibbles away at me.
‘Excuse me,’ shouts the woman from table five. ‘Where are our drink orders?’
