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‘Hard work. Saturday is their busiest day, apparently. Oh, and you know the art gallery next door?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s not an art gallery. It’s a photo studio. I met the guy that owns it, Toby something or other. He seemed nice. Bronwyn explained about us inheriting the café and he wished us luck, which I thought was kind.’
‘Still think we should sell it?’
‘I get why you’re confused, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t want to tell Matt and Bronwyn that they didn’t have a job. Although Bronwyn said she’d be okay, she really loves the place, you can tell that. And some of the oldies are quite nice; did you meet Ron when you were in?’
‘Yes. Charming but sexist.’
‘I thought he was really nice. He even gave me a tip! Anyway, to answer your question, I really don’t know. If you don’t sell it, what are you going to do with it?’
It’s a good question, and I’m still pondering it as I get ready for work on Monday morning. I’m looking forward to going back to the office and having a bit of normality. It feels like much longer than two weeks since I was there last, but even our trip to Mallorca feels like a lifetime ago. This has definitely been the longest week of my life. As usual, the emails have stacked up in my absence, and I’m still going through them when Grace appears at my desk, suggesting that we get a coffee from the kitchen.
‘Did you have a good break?’ she asks, as we pour ourselves two coffees from the jug. Holdsworth & Speke are generous enough to provide a filter coffee machine rather than making us drink instant, but you have to pick your moment. The coffee is lovely when it’s freshly brewed, but starts to look and taste more and more like tar the longer the jug sits on the hotplate.
‘Yeah, interesting,’ I reply. ‘Probably easier explained over a drink. Are you free after work?’
‘A drink, on a Monday?’ she feigns horror. ‘Oh, go on then.’
‘Morning, ladies. How was your holiday, Daisy?’ Rob joins us in the kitchen to top up his mug.
‘Good, thanks.’
‘What’s this?’ he asks, grabbing my wrist and turning it to examine the Rolex. ‘Get it in a market, did you? I hope you didn’t pay more than ten quid, although I have to say it’s one of the better knock-offs I’ve seen.’
I’d forgotten that Rob is a self-styled watch guru. Apparently, he has a large collection of high-end watches, and he keeps banging on about ‘haute horlogerie’, whatever the hell that is. He certainly seems to have a different watch for each day of the week.
‘Actually, it’s real,’ I tell him. ‘I inherited it from my great-uncle.’
‘Really? Let’s have a better look, then.’
I take the Rolex off and hand it to him. He spends some time turning it over in his hands and examining the bracelet.
‘Nice. It’ll never be as popular as the dive watches, but it’s a classic.’ He returns it and I slip it back onto my wrist.
‘He’s a bit of a knob, isn’t he?’ Grace observes, as Rob wanders back to his desk.
‘He’s okay. He means well, I think. He’s just a bit clumsy. Anyway, I’d better crack on. I’ll see you later.’
‘Looking forward to it!’
I try to focus on my work, but thoughts about the café keep pushing in. This isn’t helped by a text from Matt, which arrives just before lunch.
Not sure what the problem is, but I just overheard Rita telling a customer that the card machine is broken. Do you want me to see if Bronwyn can stop by and have a look at it?
I’m pretty sure I know exactly what the problem with the card machine is. I slip out of the office into the corridor and dial the café.
‘Hello?’
‘Rita, it’s Daisy.’
‘Oh. What do you want?’ She really is the rudest person I think I’ve ever met. I grit my teeth and put on my most saccharine voice.
‘Two things. Firstly, I gather there’s an issue with the card machine?’
‘It’s too complicated. I can’t work it.’
