‘This is for a fellow who left me standing outside the Ambassador cinema in 1985, when we were supposed to be going to seeThe Breakfast Club.’
‘He stood you up? That’s awful. Why?’
‘I never found out .?.?. maybe he didn’t fancy the film. But I was mad about him. I was sure he was The One. Still, you live and learn.’
‘And there’s a stitch all of its own just for that night?’
‘There is. Sometimes it’s the small things that are the really big things, and the big things .?.?. well, you just get on with them. What choice have you?’
Ally glanced around the café, where everyone seemed to have what they needed for now.
‘Evelyn, what’ll I do about Pete? He seems really upset.’
‘Nothing. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do. You just have to let it all play out. You can’t fix everything.’
Well, that wasn’t what she’d been hoping for, but with the luck she’d been having lately, doing nothing was at least as good an idea as any of her other plans.
She worked tirelessly through the day; every time there was a lull between customers, she cleaned every possible nook and cranny. By closing time, when Dave was cashing up, she hauled the chairs up on the tables and swept around, leaving the place ready to open on Monday morning, even though she wouldn’t be there to see it. Dave handed her €100 out of the till, which was more than she was due.
‘For all the extra work you did today, Ally. You really made a difference, especially at the moment.’ He threw on his coat, and she knew he was heading back into the hospital.
‘Dave .?.?.’ She looked down at the money.
‘Don’t even think about handing that back. The customers were asking all week where you were. Oh, and don’t worry about locking up – Pete is still here.’
For all the difference that’d make, she mused, packing some leftover spinach and goat’s cheese pizza slices into her bag and putting on her coat to leave. Then she heard a familiar voice behind her.
‘I’ve put on the kettle, will you stay?’
It was such a simple statement, but her heart lurched.
‘Sure.’
Neither of them seemed to know what to say. Pete jerked his head towards the ceiling.
‘I see you managed to get them up by yourself.’
‘Not much choice, had I, since you turned me down?’ she said with a wry smile, before realising that for him saying no to a woman was actually a big deal.
‘I did, didn’t I?’ He glanced at her from under his eyebrows.
She watched his big hands make the two mugs of tea and bring them down to the little staff table by the wall.
‘No sugar – that right?’
‘Good memory.’
Just then Patsy padded in from the back room where he’d been snoozing all afternoon and nosed at her leg, begging to be picked up. She lifted the fleecy white bundle, relieved to have some distraction, and let him lick her face with his tiny tongue.
‘I miss dogs. We always had dogs at home,’ she said.
‘So .?.?. the fish aren’t quite the same?’
‘Turns out they don’t much appreciate being cuddled, though they’re great listeners.’
‘It’s good you’re here, Ally.’ And like most things Pete said, it felt like so much more than the bare words.
‘How is your son doing? He hasn’t had any more .?.?. episodes?’
