‘Oooh, my God, he’s only a baby, he’s soooo adorable. Why don’t you just bring him in, for God’s sake? It must be freezing out there.’
‘I don’t like to push it .?.?.’
‘Oh, Pete, I’m sure Dave wouldn’t mind you bringing Patsy to work so he doesn’t get lonely at home.’
Pete hesitated. He was definitely holding something back. She raised an eyebrow.
‘Look, Ally, you may as well know. I’m living in the van right now.’
‘What, outside here?’ She was genuinely shocked.
He nodded, awkwardly.
‘Dave is letting me park at the back of the premises. And I go early to the gym next door to shower. In case you were wondering.’ He looked down at the puppy. ‘Patsy’s probably in need of one too.’
‘I don’t want to pry, and please tell me to shut up if I’m being intrusive. But .?.?. how come you don’t have a .?.?. home?’
‘I .?.?. did have one. A nice one. It’s complicated.’
He stroked the puppy’s soft head.
Oh God, this was awful. This felt all wrong. She had to think of something to fix it.
‘You could come and stay with me for a bit. I mean, I’m probably going to be repossessed in a month or so because I can’t pay my mortgage, but still .?.?. I mean, I have a sofa .?.?. and we could smuggle Patsy in past the neighbours.’
Pete smiled ruefully. ‘That’s the best offer I’ve had all week. Look, Ally, I really appreciate your generosity, but it’s not up to you to look after me. We’ll be OK.’
She guiltily recognised she was relieved he’d refused, but at the same time glad she’d offered. She knew Rosemarie would lambast her for inviting a virtual stranger to come and live withher as more evidence of her lack of boundaries and general eejitry, but that was her – as Mum would say, a heart so open that any passing randomer could walk right in and make themselves at home.
Chapter 7
It was to be her first Saturday at The Owl’s Nest. She decided on a new lace vintage blouse, seeing as it was likely to get roasting behind the counter, teamed with baggy jeans and long, dangly earrings. In the same thrift shop, she’d found a carnelian-red print silk scarf to hold her hair back and added a wipe of her favourite red lipstick the colour of holly berries. Her Italian grandma would be proud, she thought.
She looked like just the sort of girl you’d expect to see serving in a hip, urban café. The only downside was that she’d just checked her bank balance and realised to her horror that she had only barely enough left to cover one more month’s mortgage payment, while her meagre pay from the café wasn’t going to go far. She contemplated her options:
Move back home (no, that wasn’t really an option)
Get her old job back (impossible – she’d already tried crawling to the CEO)
Something else??? (Like Tom Hanks in that film where he lived, secretly, for ages in the airport terminal?)
She arrived at The Owl’s Nest at eight thirty on the dot, just as Dave bustled in with beard shadow and bags under his eyes, looking as though he hadn’t slept in days.
‘Right, let’s get this show on the road,’ he said before noticing that the show was already in full swing.
‘How are things?’ Ally enquired. ‘Everything OK?’
