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‘Well, he bought me a coffee, didn’t he? I had to sit with him then, otherwise it would have seemed rude. We got chatting, and it turns out he lives just down the road from me, so now he knocks on my front door every morning and we walk down here together. I’ve told him we’re just friends, and that he’s not to get any ideas.’
I do like Agnes, but her sex siren days are quite a long way behind her, so I can’t help thinking she’s being a little optimistic. Still, it’s nice that they’ve become friends, and it frees up a table for someone else, which is good news for me.
‘Perhaps you should invite Harold to join you,’ I suggest. ‘He might enjoy a bit of company too.’
‘Not likely,’ Agnes retorts. ‘He came in behind me once, when I was at the counter putting my order in, and I’m sure he pinched me on the bum. Dirty pervert, that’s what he is.’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask.
‘Well, who else could it have been?’
‘I don’t know, I just don’t see Harold as the bum-pinching type.’
‘Ah, well. It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch. That’s what my mother always said.’
Our fascinating and slightly disturbing conversation is cut short by a commotion to my right. I glance over to see what’s happening. A young woman is sitting at one of the tables with a child I imagine must be her son. He’s knocked over his glass, and a lake of Coca-Cola is spreading over the tablecloth and starting to drip onto the floor. I can see Rita advancing with a cloth, so I decide to let her deal with it.
‘For God’s sake!’ she says angrily to the boy as she aggressively starts wiping up the spill. ‘Look at the mess you’ve made.’ She turns to the woman and continues. ‘You shouldn’t be bringing him out if he doesn’t know how to behave. This is a café, not a nursery.’ My jaw drops open. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard.
‘Rita, let me deal with this,’ I tell her, as I swoop on the table and grab the cloth. The boy looks like he’s about to cry, and the woman looks absolutely gobsmacked. ‘Can you clear some of the other tables, please, and wait for me in the kitchen?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say to the woman as I continue wiping up the mess. ‘Let me get you another drink, and we’ll refund you for your meal today.’ I turn to the little boy. ‘Don’t worry about her, she’s just a bit grumpy. Accidents happen all the time. It’s not your fault, okay?’
The boy’s lip is still trembling, but I think I’ve averted the worst of the crisis. I bring him another Coke and concentrate hard on being the hospitable owner, but inside I’m boiling with rage. What the hell did Rita think she was doing? Even with the refund and my apology, I’d be very surprised if we ever see the woman and her son again, and they’re exactly the type of demographic I need to attract if I’m going to make a success of this place. Once I’m sure I’ve minimised the damage as best I can by writing out a card promising her a 10 per cent discount on her next visit on top of the refund, I stalk back into the kitchen. Rita is standing there looking defiant, and I can’t hold myself in any more.
‘What the fuck is the matter with you? Are you actively trying to put me out of business?’ I hiss. My voice is trembling with anger, but I’m determined not to shout. I don’t want the customers overhearing.
Matt stops what he’s doing and looks at me in surprise. He has no idea what’s just happened, so probably thinks I’ve lost the plot. Rita looks like I’ve slapped her. Although we’ve clashed before, she’s never seen me properly angry, and I think she’s surprised by the force of it. She recovers quickly, though, and her voice is surprisingly calm as she replies.
‘Don’t swear at me, young lady. He’d been messing about with his glass for ages. It was inevitable that he was going to spill it, and she wasn’t doing anything to stop him. Someone needed to tell him off, otherwise he’ll never learn.’
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. ‘Are you criminally insane?’ I demand. ‘I am working my fucking arse off trying to turn this café around, and you seem determined to sabotage me at every turn! First it was the bloody card reader, then the shit you pulled with the coffee machine, and now you’ve decided to get rid of the customers by insulting them! I’ve had to refund them and give them a voucher, and I still doubt we’ll ever see them again, let alone anyone else who was in earshot. Do you have any idea how much fucking damage you’ve just done?’
‘You’re over-reacting. All I did was…’
‘Get out!’ I hiss, pointing at the door.
‘You can’t be serious. You’re firing me for that?’
‘You’re damned right I’m firing you for that. I should have bloody fired you long ago.’
‘Okay, fine. I’m fed up with working here anyway, with the stupid coffees and everything. You don’t need to fire me, because I resign. Oh, and good luck finding a replacement because nobody will want to work for you, or even come in here, once I’m done. I know a lot of people in this town, and I’ll be sure to tell all of them how appallingly you’ve treated me,’ she says loudly as she grabs her coat and, with a speed I never knew she had in her, marches out of the front door, banging it behind her. My breath is coming in gasps and my legs are shaking, which are sure warnings of an impending panic attack, so I steady myself against the work surface and concentrate on slowing down my breathing.
‘Are you okay?’ Matt asks. ‘What was that all about? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before, and I just counted three fucks in less than a minute!’
‘I’ll have to tell you later,’ I gasp. ‘As soon as I’ve got this under control, I need to get out front. Will you be able to cope in here on your own for the rest of the day? I’ll call Bronwyn in a bit and see if she can come in tomorrow.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he tells me. ‘Your soup’s pretty much made and the cakes are cooling, so it’s all good. Has she really gone?’
‘I bloody hope so. I’ll physically push her out if she tries to come back. Right, I’d better go and show my face, I suppose.’ I take off the hairnet, replace my full-length apron with one of the waist-high ones that I bought for Bronwyn and Rita to wear, and walk slowly out into the front of the café. As I do, the most extraordinary thing happens.
Ron starts clapping.
Agnes joins in.
Slowly, the applause spreads across the tables. Even people I’ve never seen in here before are joining in. The woman whose son sparked the confrontation is on her feet, giving me a standing ovation. I don’t know what to do, so I just stand there, blushing furiously, until it dies down.
‘Anybody want a job?’ I joke when the applause has subsided, and a ripple of laughter comes back.
