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‘Great. Thank you, dear.’ Annie led Max towards the table by the window.
Covering her mouth, Brooke yawned. ‘Sorry, the early morning’s catching up with me.’
‘I’m guessing all the travelling you did yesterday hasn’t helped, either.’ Teresa placed two lattes and two slices of coffee and walnut cake on a tray. ‘Can you take this across please and I’ll make you a strong coffee?’
‘Sure. Thanks.’ Brooke stifled another yawn and picked the tray up. Teresa was right. The coach journey down here must be the reason have felt so tired. When she’d worked at the hotel, she’d been used to changing shift patterns and the early morning shift had actually been her favourite. She paused and stepped out of the way of a customer. Who was she kidding? She’d been out of work for two months and in that time she’d let her natural body clock take over—late nights and lie-ins had become the norm. What with having to clear out her grandparents’ house to sell and then pack her own belongings up and into storage when her savings had diminished, there had been little to wake up early for. This would be good for her, though. Getting into a new routine would be just the thing she needed.
‘Thank you.’ A man carrying an armful of shopping bags nodded as Brooke stood aside.
‘You’re welcome.’ Now, where were Annie and her grandson? Over there by the window. Setting her eyes on them, she weaved between a mother and her pushchair and an elderly couple. Just as she approached the table, she felt something hard against her shin and, toppling forward, she struggled to right herself. Before she could regain balance, the lattes shot forward off the tray and landed with a thud against the top of the table.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Was that Martha?’ The mum holding onto the handles of the pushchair leaned forward, prising a bright orange plastic spade from her daughter’s grasp. ‘I’m so embarrassed. I’ll pay for them.’
‘Umm.’ Brooke glanced across at the mum. ‘Don’t worry.’ Looking back to where the lattes had landed, she froze. Annie was pulling tissues from her handbag and passing wedges of them to Max, who was sitting opposite. Max was sitting there wiping his face with the tissues as droplets of pale golden liquid dribbled from his hair, his pale blue t-shirt now resembling tie-dyed fabric. ‘I’m sorry.’
Looking across at her, Annie smiled. ‘Accidents happen, dear.’
‘Yes, but...’ Brooke looked at Max again. Deep furrows had formed across his forehead.
‘Is everything okay over here?’
It was Elsie. Brooke recognised her voice. She gripped the empty tray tighter. She’d have to go back to her grandparents’ house if Elsie asked her to leave. And Brooke wouldn’t blame her. She’d made a complete mess and probably scared customers away on her first day. What about Max? What if he now refused to decorate Elsie’s flat? Brooke’s actions would not only have affected business at the bakery, but Elsie’s personal life, too. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of going back into that empty house again. Memories clinging to the walls, but all life gone. She knew she’d have to when she finished her volunteering stint here. She’d known all along that she’d have to go back and face the emptiness, but if Elsie asked her to leave now, she’d have even longer at the house.
‘I’m so sorry. I think it was my fault. Little Martha here stuck her spade. I think that’s what made her trip. I’ll pay for the drinks and cakes and if you want me to pay for a new t-shirt, I’m happy to do that.’
‘Don’t worry, love. These things happen.’ Elsie patted the mum’s arm before turning towards Max. ‘Sorry about this, love. I have a shirt of Ian’s upstairs. He got a stain on it the other week that wouldn’t come out, so I had a go. It’s freshly washed.’
‘Don’t worry. I can pop back to my grandma’s to change.’ Max stood up, crumbs of cake sliding from his lap onto the floor.
Elsie placed her hand on Brooke’s forearm. ‘I’ll take that, love. Would you go and take Max upstairs and get him the shirt while I tidy this up, please? It’s the one on the clothes hanger above the kitchen door.’
Brooke nodded. She could feel everyone’s eyes boring down on her. Any excuse to get out of the bakery for a few minutes would be welcome.
‘That’s it. Off you both go.’ Elsie ushered Max and Brooke towards the door up to the flat.
With each step she took, Brooke waited for Max to say something. To start blaming her or telling her she was clumsy. When she got to the kitchen and he still hadn’t spoken, she turned to him. ‘I really am sorry. It was just an accident.’
Max frowned. ‘I know. I didn’t think you’d done it on purpose.’
‘I know, I just... Sorry.’ She shrugged.
‘Don’t mention it. This is one of my work shirts, anyway. It’d have had paint all over it by the end of the day, anyway.’ He looked towards the kitchen towel hanging over the oven door. ‘May I?’
Brooke nodded. He wasn’t cross? Or upset that she’d basically chucked two full lattes and two large slices of coffee and walnut cake over him?
‘Thanks.’ Taking the towel, he ran cold water over one end before wiping his face and then rubbing it through his hair. Crumbs and half a walnut fell to the floor. Picking up the nut, he held it towards her. ‘Do you like walnuts?’
Laughing, Brooke shook her head. ‘I’ll let you have that one, thanks.’
Shrugging, Max popped it in his mouth. ‘Nice.’
‘That’s disgusting.’
‘Probably.’ He glanced behind her and pointed to the shirt. ‘Is that Ian’s shirt?’
‘Umm, I’m guessing so.’ Taking it from the clothes hanger, Brooke grimaced at the brightly coloured flowers and birds emblazoned across the fabric. ‘I’m guessing they must have been to a Hawaiian-themed night.’
‘Umm, I’d hope so.’ Taking the shirt, he looked from his latte-covered t-shirt and back to Ian’s clean shirt. ‘I guess it’s better than stinking of coffee and milk.’
