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In the kitchen, Marjorie could only chuckle. ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ she said.

Jacob shrugged as he took two apple and blueberry Danishes out of the freezer and surreptitiously slipped them into the oven toaster, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the two old ladies couldn’t see him from their table.

‘They’re set in their ways,’ he said. ‘They don’t mean any harm.’

‘And they always leave a tip.’

‘They do.’ Jacob grinned. ‘Scrawled on a napkin with a fifty pence piece to hold it down. The last one said, “Always carry a pen. You never know when you’ll need to write down an offending number plate”. I’ve carried a pen ever since.’

The bell over the door chimed to announce the arrival of another customer. ‘Busy this afternoon, isn’t it?’ Jacob said. ‘I’ll just take these out and then see the new customers to a table.’

He put the apple and blueberry Danishes onto a plate and then carried them out to Barbara and Sophie. As he put them down, he turned to see who had come in. A young woman stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking around as though she’d never been into a café before. Blonde hair neatly cut into a bob framed a pretty face. Blue eyes darted around, a nervous smile appearing and disappearing as she shifted from foot to foot.

‘I’ll be right with you,’ Jacob called.

As though she was noticing him for the first time, the girl gave a slight start. For a moment she looked about to back out of the door onto the street, and Jacob felt a sudden rush of blood to the head. He hurried to put the plate down, quickly brushed off Sophie’s repeated request for fresh sugar lumps, and headed for the entrance.

Sweat had beaded on his brow. As he reached her, he felt his throat tightening. She wasn’t just pretty, she carried a glow about her that seemed to draw him in. He shrugged, trying to shrug it off. No doubt she was married or in a relationship, dating at the very least. All the pretty girls his age were.

‘Just one, is it?’ he said, cheeks flushing with heat, perceiving a sense of innuendo in words he had repeated thousands of times. ‘I mean, are you alone? Here? Today?’

The young woman tilted her head, looking up at him. She was perhaps five-seven, although wearing boots that probably added a couple of inches. He made sure he was staring at her face, not studying her clothing. His fingers trembled, as he scrambled for a menu out of a rack nearby.

‘Are you Aunt Marjorie?’ she joked.

‘Um … what? No. I mean, she’s in the kitchen. I’m Jacob, her niece. Nephew. Christ … Christmas.’

The girl smiled. Out of a perfect smile, she had one canine that tilted slightly outwards. ‘It’s soon, isn’t it? Christmas, I mean.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Jacob said, glad for a simple answer. ‘Always a busy period.’

‘But a wonderful one.’ She looked down at her hands, gloved in purple velvet with grey fluffy trim. ‘I hope this year will be … all right.’

She suddenly looked so sad Jacob could have scooped her up into his arms. Hearing a distant police siren which seemed to warn him off getting too close, he found her sudden vulnerability an opportunity to regroup.

‘I’m Jacob,’ he said, finding his feet, and his words. ‘Marjorie is my aunt. How can I help you today?’

‘Do you do private functions?’ she said. ‘I’m looking for somewhere to hold the woke for my grandmother.’

‘The….?’

‘Sorry, wake. That’s it. She died earlier this week.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.’

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes. She reached up to wipe them away, then paused as though not wanting to use her glove. Jacob reached for a tissue, but only found a napkin. When he turned back, she practically fell forward into his arms. Leaning against his chest, she pressed her head below his neck. Jacob breathed in the scent of her hair, wondering if a more knowledgeable man might be able to guess the brand of shampoo from the aroma.

He found his arms slipping around her shoulders. She held him tight, and he let his arms relax around her, feeling like a fiend for enjoying every second of this poor girl’s misery. He rested his head on the top of hers, wishing he could stay like this forever.

From the table nearby, Barbara Bakersfield let out a chuckle. ‘Poor girl must have seen the seasonal menu.’

‘Are you all right?’ came Aunt Marjorie’s voice, and Jacob lifted his head to see his aunt approaching through the tables, a concerned look on her face. He pulled away from the girl, then handed her the tissue that he was still holding. Her tears had left little wet marks on his shirt, and he wondered if he could ever bring himself to wash it.

‘This young lady’s just lost her grandmother,’ Jacob said.

The girl smiled, sniffed and wiped away a tear with the napkin. ‘I didn’t lose her,’ she said. ‘I know exactly where she is.’ She glanced at Jacob and flashed another smile, as though to confirm it were a joke. ‘In the … in the morgue.’

Jacob didn’t want to be so bold as to reach for her in front of his aunt’s watchful gaze, so he handed the girl another napkin as she started to cry again.