Page 99 of The Little Board Game Café

The café was full when Emily returned with the last three bags of marshmallows from the shop. Full. Mrs Scott, Mrs Sinclair and Florence were finishing off plates of Lancashire hotpot. There was a table of four in the corner scoffing all-day breakfasts, two tables with soup and sandwiches, two tables waiting for their orders and Annie was in the kitchen, whistling.

Annie thrust two plates of sandwiches into her boss’s hands. ‘Deliver these to table four, please, Em.’

‘Which one’s table four?’ She had never numbered the tables.

‘The couple playing chess. In the corner.’

She’d just delivered the sandwiches when Annie bobbed her head through the hatch and called, ‘Service, please.’ Emily scurried back and collected two bowls of soup, with rolls and butter. You couldn’t fault Annie; perfect baking and efficient to boot. And she was nothing like the person Emily had thought she was, when they’d worked together at Ridley’s. Emily felt even more awful at the thought of telling Annie the bad news.

‘Table six,’ Annie said.

‘Which one’s…?’

‘By the window. Scrabble.’

Emily delivered the soup. As soon as everyone had gone, she would tell her.

*

When the last of the customers had left, Emily locked the door so they wouldn’t be interrupted. She headed for the kitchen. It was stiflingly hot in there. Annie was doing her best impression of Martha and the Vandellas, singing ‘Heatwave’ at the top of her voice as she cleared up. Not that there was much to clear up; the place was pristine. It would have been an entirely different matter if Emily had had to prep lunch for six tables.

‘Oh, Em, I’ve got something to tell you,’ said Annie. ‘I’m so excited. I’ve been offered…’ She did a mock drum roll on the worktop with her knuckles.

Emily said a silent prayer. Please let her hand in her notice. Say she’d got another job.

‘…a caravan.’

Emily wasn’t expecting that. ‘A caravan? Are you planning a holiday?’

‘No. To live in. It’s in a field on a farm between here and Hebbleswick. I’ll be able to walk to work along the canal towpath. Oh, Em, it’s such a relief because my friend wants her sofa back. She said I had to find somewhere by the end of next week and I’ve been so stressed about it. I can’t thank you enough for giving me this job, because I couldn’t have afforded the rent on the caravan without it. Although it is quite low rent because they want me to bake cakes for the farm shop. But I won’t let that affect my work here, I promise.’

‘A caravan,’ Emily said again. Oh god, she couldn’t tell her now, could she?

*

Peggy was pulling her A-board in as Emily walked past Sweet Delights that evening.

‘Any buyers?’ Emily asked.

‘No, why? Are you interested? I hear your place is doing very well. You’re going to need bigger premises soon.’

She was going to be out of her premises soon, but she didn’t want Peggy knowing that. Not yet. She mustn’t tell anyone until she’d told Annie. ‘No, I’m happy where I am, thanks.’

It was true, Emily realised. She had been happy. She’d had the best few weeks, running her little café. Trying out that dream that she’d shared with Mum for all those years. True, she hadn’t had many customers at first. And she’d lost money rather than making it. And there’d been many lonely hours standing behind that counter longing for some customers to come in, and the awful incident with Marjory choking on a nut and that dreadful child running round smashing things. But she’d made new friends – Mr B, Julia and George – and she’d learned to cook Polish food and even her former MIL2B was being nice to her these days because she liked playing Scrabble in the café. It had been good while it lasted.

‘Why are you selling up?’ Emily said.

‘The competition,’ she said. ‘I’m losing customers.’

‘I couldn’t believe it when I heard Costa was opening.’

‘Not Costa, Emily. You. Everyone prefers your place to mine these days. I blame those wretched games.’

‘Me? You’re selling because of me?’

Emily felt dreadful. She had wanted her business to be a success, but not at the expense of someone else’s.

And Peggy looked miserable. Devastated.