‘Don’t let me down, Alice,’ he says. ‘Control your emotions and sort out the café’s social media. I’m not renaming my business – Heartbreak Café.’
As I climb into the camp bed his words are still ringing in my ears.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
@The Little Love Café: Today we are kicking off our new 7-day challenge #GIVELOVEGETLOVE We want to bring love back to The Little Love Café. We want to see your acts of love whether that be a bunch of flowers, box of chocolates, cute Post-it note messages in lunchboxes, breakfast in bed or a romantic mixtape. Take a photo and tell us about your act of love. The ones which make us say ‘aww…’ or smile will get a free coffee. Post your pics using the hashtags #LittleLoveCafé #Letsbringbacklove
Iwoke up before Lucas and Dad to put my social media promotion live.
By the time I open the café we’ve had a man tag us into a photo of his wife’s breakfast tray containing two poached eggs, toast, and a printout of cinema tickets to see her favourite film later. And a woman has tagged us with a photo of her husband’s sandwiches, which she’d cut into heart shapes: ‘A little surprise for him during his lunch break.’
Pam is busy unloading her cake delivery; Noah is at the coffee machine working on some drinks and I am heading back with an order for table two. They’re a couple who were pleased to tell me about how they split up ten years ago but had an unexpected reunion a year ago today in Thailand.
As I get back to the counter there’s a crash from the back of the café. I rush out to see Pam sprawled across the floor. ‘Don’t worry,’ she says, ‘the cakes are fine. It’s me. I’m trying to do too much, and I fell over my shoelace.’
I help her up and she brushes down her trousers.
‘Have you hurt yourself? Can I get you some water, a cup of tea or coffee?’
She shakes her head. ‘I’m fine. You are my customer, and I shouldn’t say this, but I would just like time to see my family and not have to spend day and night with my ex-husband. This business we created when we were together has become demanding and I’m working far too many hours.’ Her phone is vibrating in her pocket. She takes it out and groans. ‘I’m so tired.’
‘Pam, you’re worrying me,’ I say, giving her arm a gentle rub.
She looks at me with pink watery eyes. ‘Thank you for worrying about me.’
Once she goes, I return to the counter. ‘Pam fell over.’
Noah looks up. ‘Is she okay?’
‘I think she’s stressed. I do hope she’s all right.’
He points towards the Snug. ‘Will you go check on the couple who are in there? It’s Jon and Donna. They’re regulars. A bit of background, Donna has been unwell, and Jon is proposing.’
My initial reaction is to shake my head, but I remember Frankie’s face from last night. I must turn this place around and that means confronting my phobia of live marriage proposals. I stop shaking my head and nod. ‘Okay, will go now.’
Noah looks at me with a shocked expression. ‘Are you serious?’
‘It’s time to face my fears.’
He smiles at me. ‘I’m proud of you, Alice.’ I feel a fluttering sensation inside my chest as I head out the back to the Snug. I’m bracing myself for a couple gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. As I get nearer, I can hear the couple arguing. Inwardly I groan.
‘I am afraid we are going to have to leave,’ the man – Jon – barks. ‘She’s changed her mind.’
The woman – this must be Donna – arms crossed tightly over her chest, is scowling out of the window. ‘Jon, I need some space.’
‘Fine,’ snaps Jon, who is wearing a blue shirt and beige jeans. He gets up and storms off through the café.
I take a deep breath and go sit down next to the woman. ‘Can I get you a drink, cake maybe?’
She shakes her head and wipes away a lone tear. ‘I feel bad now. This sounds like I am being selfish and cruel, but I wanted the fairy-tale wedding, only it looks like my breast cancer has put a stop to that as well.’
Sitting back into the plush sofa I send her a friendly smile. ‘You two are Little Love Café regulars – aren’t you?’
The woman sits up and fiddles with her short red hair. ‘Yes, we used to be regulars. Then I got sick and couldn’t come for months. I’m Donna by the way.’
‘Alice,’ I reply.
‘Do you have kids, Alice?’
