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‘That makes sense,’ Katie agrees. ‘So, we keep it open until we find a buyer. How do we stop it draining our resources in the meantime, though?’
‘My resources,’ I remind her. ‘Yours are safely locked up.’
‘Yes, but this is our café,’ she counters. ‘Even if I can’t access the money yet, I will pay half of whatever costs we incur until it’s sold as soon as I’m able.’
I smile at her. She’s always been much more generous-natured than me, and this is typical of the kind of grand gesture she loves.
‘Let me go through the books properly. I had a quick glance when Jonathan first gave them to me, but I need to understand the details before we can really make a plan. We definitely need to get rid of the accountants, though. They are costing us a fortune.’
‘Can you do that?’ Nan asks.
‘I don’t see why not. From what I can see, we’re potentially paying thousands of pounds a month for them to do the book-keeping, and I’m more than capable of that. This isn’t a complex business, from an accounting perspective, so I don’t think it would take an awful lot of my time.’
‘Do you know anything else about it?’ Grandad asks. ‘For example, how many people work there? It’s not just about the numbers, Daisy. Your decisions could affect people’s livelihoods, remember.’
I sigh. ‘I know, and the last thing I want to do is take away anyone’s job. We’ve got to try to be a bit ruthless, though, because otherwise we’ll just end up propping it up until we run out of money, and then we’re back where we started. That doesn’t seem a good use of Fred’s investment pot, does it? I think we should go and meet them, particularly the chef. If nothing else, it sounds like we need to thank him for keeping the place running and for looking after Fred’s car. I also need to understand a bit more about the deal with the flat he’s living in. He’s paying peanuts for it.’
‘We should go down there tomorrow!’ Katie exclaims. ‘We could go undercover, find out what it’s like. They won’t know who we are, so they’ll just think we’re normal customers.’
‘That’s not a bad idea, actually,’ I agree. ‘I’m going to set up a proper meeting with them as well, though. I’ll call them in the morning. I’ll call the accountants too, and let them know that I’ll be doing the books from now until we sell.’
With the beginnings of a plan in place, Nan declares that she needs something much more interesting than a cup of tea and biscuit to celebrate our windfall and sends Grandad out to the local shop to get a bottle of fizz. While he’s gone, I take the opportunity to scrutinise the books some more. Thankfully, apart from Jonathan’s bills and the accounting fees, the outgoings of the café appear to be fairly low. There are the usual business costs and utility bills, as well as staff wages and the cost of the food itself. Unfortunately, the income is also pitifully low. It may have been breaking even when Fred was alive, but it definitely wasn’t thriving.
I’m surprised to see how little the chef is paid. A bit of internet searching reveals that his salary is around half what he should expect to be earning, which confirms my suspicion that the flat is probably part of his package. That would explain the peppercorn rent. Apart from the fact that the café isn’t making any money, there’s nothing in the accounts that concerns me. I reckon I could keep on top of them fairly easily.
Grandad has gone the extra mile and reappears not only with a chilled bottle of Prosecco, but fish and chips from the local chippy for all of us as well. We settle ourselves at the table to enjoy our feast, and Grandad proposes a toast to Fred, which we join in with enthusiastically. By the time we’ve finished eating, Nan has polished off two glasses of Prosecco and is decidedly tipsy, so we’re treated to one of her gushing monologues.
‘I always hoped things would work out okay for you two!’ she slurs, waving her glass animatedly. ‘You’ve got so much going for you, and now you have the means to make your dreams come true. You can put the past behind you and focus on the future. I’m so happy and proud of you both.’
Katie and I roll our eyes at each other and smile. We both know we can never put the past behind us. No amount of money can get back what we’ve lost. It’s nice to see Nan happy, though, even if Grandad is gently trying to persuade her to put her glass down before she spills the contents everywhere.
* * *
After a sleepless night, I’m up early, and I decide to strike while the iron is hot. I rifle through the documents and call the telephone number for the café. It’s eight o’clock in the morning, so they ought to be there if the opening hours on the door are to be believed.
‘Hello?’ It’s a female voice, and it sounds vaguely annoyed.
‘Hello. Is that Nora’s Diner?’ I ask, worried that I’ve called the wrong number. Isn’t it usual for businesses to announce their name when they answer the phone?
‘Yes. Can I help you?’ She’s definitely irritated, and doesn’t sound like she wants to help at all.
‘My name is Daisy Jones,’ I continue, trying to sound as deferential as I can so as not to wind her up any more. Maybe she’s having a stressful morning. ‘I wondered if it would be possible to speak to the chef?’
‘He’s working, and he doesn’t take personal calls on this line,’ she tells me abruptly, and I realise she’s about to put the phone down on me.
‘This isn’t a personal call,’ I explain, quickly. ‘My sister and I are the new owners of the café, and I’d like to find a suitable time to meet with him to go through a few things.’
‘I see. I will have to check whether he can talk to you. It’s a busy time for us, you know,’ she says, reproachfully. I can tell she’s put her hand over the mouthpiece, because the background sounds suddenly become muted. Unfortunately for her, not muted enough that I can’t hear the scorn in her voice as she explains who is on the phone.
‘Hello, Matt Stevens speaking. How may I help?’ This voice, although laced with caution, thankfully sounds much friendlier, and I prepare to relaunch my charm offensive.
‘Hi, Matt, my name is Daisy, and my sister and I have just found out that we’re the new owners of the café. I was wondering if we could find a time to come down and meet you, to find out a bit more about it and maybe talk through some options for the future.’
‘When did you have in mind?’ he asks.
‘This week, if possible.’
‘How about today, at three fifteen? We close at three, so there won’t be any customers to worry about.’
