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‘Yup.’
‘Will you do us one favour, please?’ Nan asks.
‘Of course, what is it?’
‘Give yourself a few days off before you get stuck in. You really need some rest, and there’s going to be precious little of that once you start. They don’t need you right now, do they? They’re used to getting by without you in the week. You could take the rest of the week off, go in on Saturday as normal, and then start in earnest on Monday.’
I consider this. I had planned to go straight in tomorrow, but I realise that Nan has a point. A couple of days’ rest might be a good idea. I’m not sure I can take the whole week, though. Now that it’s my only source of potential income, I feel like I don’t have a day to waste. We debate it for a while and, in the end, we agree that I’ll start on Friday.
* * *
I do try to follow their advice but, by mid-morning on Tuesday, I’m bored out of my mind. By the end of Wednesday, I’ve arranged for a house clearance firm to come and take everything that’s left in Fred’s flat at the start of next week, plus I’ve made an appointment for Thursday afternoon with a builder friend of Grandad’s, to talk about the renovations. I spend Wednesday and Thursday going through the final few cupboards at the flat. The skip has gone, so I load the remaining rubbish into my car and make several trips to the tip. I finally find the box and papers for the Rolex, and I bring them home with me for safekeeping. Matt spotted my car on Wednesday morning and texted me to ask what was going on, so I called in to explain my new situation, but I have stayed out of the café apart from that. I’m just loading the final bags for the tip into my car at lunchtime on Thursday when my phone beeps to let me know that I’ve received a text message. It’s from Matt.
I know you’re not working today, but you might want to pop into the café if you have a moment. Rita says the coffee machine is broken.
I lock up the car and use my keys to let myself in through the back door. Thankfully, Matt is alone in the kitchen.
‘What’s up?’ I ask him.
‘I suspect foul play,’ he grins. ‘Rita’s been huffing and puffing even more than usual lately. It seems that Ron and Agnes have teamed up and decided to work their way through the coffee menu, and they’ve been driving her bananas by ordering all sorts of exotic stuff. I noticed she’d stuck an “out of order” notice on the coffee machine when I popped out there earlier, so I asked her about it. She’s adamant that it’s broken, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s just a ruse to give her a break.’
‘I see. Do you think I should take a look at it?’
‘Well, I can call Bronwyn and ask her to drop by when she’s free if you like, but as you’re here…’
I walk out of the kitchen into the main café, where Rita is at her usual post behind the counter, with her arms folded and her trademark look of disdain. Sure enough, a piece of A4 paper has been taped to the coffee machine with the words ‘OUT OF ORDER’ scrawled on it in black marker pen.
‘Oh, it’s you.’ Rita greets me with her customary brusqueness. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’
‘I quit, if you must know. From now on, I’m going to be working full-time in here. Anyway, I was just clearing the last bits out of Fred’s flat when Matt texted me to say the coffee machine was on the blink. What’s the matter with it?’
‘I don’t know. The bean grinding thing has just stopped working.’
‘Okay, let me have a look.’
I place the coffee holder under the bean grinding machine and slide the lever across to fill it with ground coffee. Sure enough, nothing comes out. I check the switch, which is on, and then follow the flex to the plug.
‘I think I’ve found the problem,’ I tell her. ‘It’s turned off at the plug.’ I turn it on, and I’m instantly rewarded by the sound of grinding coffee. When it finishes, I’m able to dispense coffee into the holder again.
‘I don’t know how that could have happened,’ Rita says. Her voice has that surly tone that teenagers use when they’ve been caught red-handed doing something they shouldn’t, but don’t want to admit it.
‘I think you do. It didn’t turn itself off, did it?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe I knocked it by accident.’
‘That would be hard to do, given that the plug is quite difficult to reach. Admit it; you couldn’t be bothered with it, so you turned it off.’
‘It’s too hard!’ she says angrily. ‘All people want is these ridiculous fancy coffees with different types of frothy milk. How am I supposed to know the difference between a cappuccino, a latte, and a flat white? I’m not a bloody ballerina!’
‘I think you mean barista, and the instructions are here.’ I indicate Bronwyn’s carefully written notes. ‘All you have to do is follow them. This machine is a major investment in the future of the business, and I have to take the fact that you’ve deliberately sabotaged it seriously. This is your second warning, Rita. One more incident like this and you’ll be out. Do you understand?’
‘You’ve got a bloody cheek,’ she rounds on me. ‘I’ve been here eleven years. You can’t just come swanning in here and make threats like that.’
‘If you continue to sabotage, or refuse to use, the equipment that I’ve provided, to the detriment of my business, then I can certainly make threats like that. This café is my livelihood now, so I will be watching you like a hawk. One more incident, Rita. I’m warning you.’
‘You wouldn’t dare fire me,’ she hisses, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
‘Try me,’ I reply, and retreat through the kitchen to carry on with my flat clearing. I’ve just got time to get to the tip and back before Mick, the builder, arrives. I know it sounds bad, but I enjoyed having Rita on the ropes far more than I should have done.
