Page 17 of The Little Board Game Café

‘I hadn’t spotted that. Could you give me a few minutes then, please?’

‘Sure,’ Peggy said rather stiffly.

Emily always loved reading menus, but, today, there was an extra element of pleasure in it. She’d been playing Fantasy Café Owner for years, imagining what it would be like if she did have her own café. And now, it might – just might – become a reality. She looked at the breakfast menu: full English breakfast – with more local pork sausage; vegetarian breakfast; eggs Benedict; scrambled eggs. And there, in small print, ‘8 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. only’. In her café, Emily decided, she would serve breakfast all day.

She was intently studying the various fillings in the baked potato section and wondering if they were microwaved or baked properly in the oven, when she realised Peggy was by her side again.

A glass of water was plonked down in front of her. ‘The chef says you can have the eggs Benedict, but only on this occasion.’

That was fine. There wouldn’t be a second occasion if this was how she spoke to customers.

As Emily waited for her food, four groups of people came in, saw there were no tables and left again. Only one couple decided to wait.

Emily had to admit that her eggs Benedict were delicious. It wasn’t a huge portion though and almost as soon as she’d polished it off, Peggy was back.

‘Anything else?’ She was anxious to clear the table, and not just of her empty plate, Emily realised, but of her too. One person eating alone wasn’t so profitable.

‘A latte, please.’ Her face fell, so Emily added, ‘To go.’

‘Come to the counter.’

As she waited for the bill, Emily scrutinised the cakes in the glass cabinet again. They looked delicious, but she could probably make cakes that looked as good. Well, almost. And she could certainly manage to smile at customers and make them feel welcome. And the eggs Benedict? Well, it had been tasty. There must be videos on YouTube showing you how to make Hollandaise sauce.

‘Have you worked here long?’ Emily said as Peggy handed her the bill. Still no smile.

‘Twenty-three years,’ she said.

‘The boss must be nice.’

‘I am the boss. I own this place.’

Emily eyed her, like a bull sizing up a matador. So this was who she’d be up against, if she were to buy Nico’s. Not that she was really going to…but it wouldn’t do any harm to arrange a viewing.

She paid for her lunch, collected her latte in its cardboard cup and turned to leave. The table where she’d been sitting a minute earlier was already occupied by a family of four.

Service with a smile or not, this café was popular. It was the place where everyone gathered. Peter had met clients here. Her mother-in-law lunched here at least twice a week. Kate had even had dates here. Admittedly Kate had had dates in almost every eatery within a twenty-mile radius.

As she opened the door to leave, another couple arrived in search of a table and turned away disappointed. There was definitely demand for café tables here in Essendale, Emily thought. Perhaps with a decent food offering, improved kerb appeal, a bit of marketing – courtesy of Kate – and a much warmer welcome than Peggy’s, customers could be lured to walk that little bit further to the café near the canal.

Chapter Seven

Books by Emily’s bedside: The Art of Living Your Dreams; Surviving Unemployment; and still in pole position, A Beginner’s Guide to Starting Your Own Business.

The estate agent had seemed surprised to get her call. Yes, Nico’s was still for sale. And yes, she’d be very welcome to have a viewing. In fact, she could see it straightaway as one of his other appointments had been cancelled.

Emily could barely contain her excitement. When other little girls had played doctors and nurses or schools, Emily used to seat her toys at the dining room table and serve them imaginary cups of tea, and now here she was, one step closer to serving real customers.

*

Nico’s was, to Emily’s surprise, closed. It had six tables, well-spaced out but covered with dark, wipeable cloths. There was a serving counter at the back, a professional-looking coffee machine and a glass chiller cabinet for displaying cakes and sandwich fillings. The floor was tiled in black and white like a chessboard and the walls were painted dark red. It had looked dark that evening she’d gone past with the running club, but even now, earlier in the day, with all the lights on, the overall effect was still somewhat dreary.

The estate agent handed Emily a sheet of paper with a fuzzy picture of the café, the price and some details about square footage, the number of covers and the kitchen equipment.

‘And the monthly rent is…’ He pointed at a figure at the bottom of the sheet. ‘Very reasonable for this area. You do realise that you’re buying the business, not the building. If the building itself was included, it would cost much, much more. A place like this could be worth a lot one day. Development potential and all that.’

Emily nodded.

‘Have you run a café before?’ he asked.