‘Where is Bree?’ asked Molly, still worried that she hadn’t turned up.
Sam shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Remember, two ladles per tray and a slice of bread,’ she said, changing the subject as the first person appeared in front of Molly holding out their tray.
With the ladle in one hand Molly began to serve. There were two things that she noticed about everyone that stood in front of her. Their grateful smile and the blackened fingernails that clutched each tray. There wasn’t one person who didn’t say thank you, though, as the long line of people just kept coming.
Without warning, Molly could feel her eyes welling up with tears. Trying to keep her emotions in check she thought of Cam and the way he’d reacted to a stranger being in the house. She understood his hesitation but all Molly witnessed here were polite, vulnerable people that just faced a different set of circumstances from what people considered the norm. She wanted to ask each one of them how was their day, but did they really want to be reminded about the day just gone? Molly wished she could make life’s circumstances better for them all, which was exactly what Sam was doing by making sure the shelter was up and running.
Stan was next in the queue. His hair was brushed to the side and he looked cleaner than yesterday. He smiled, revealing a crooked, chipped tooth at the front.
‘How are you, Stan?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve had a good day, thank you, Miss Molly. I’ve spent the day in the library reading one of my favourite books of all time, and now I’m here for my tea and a bed for the night. How about you?’
Molly was taken aback that he’d asked how she was, and was reminded of her disagreement with Cam. Of course she wasn’t going to moan about that, or share information about her personal life, so she simply said, ‘I’m doing just fine, thank you,’ with a warm smile, putting an extra half ladle on his plate.
He gave her a wink as he noticed. ‘Fine isn’t a good word. When everything is fine, it really isn’t fine,’ he replied, giving her a knowing look before thanking her for his meal and heading on his way. She watched him walk over to a table and place his tray down. He then said a prayer before he tucked into his meal.
After the long queue of people had passed, and every morsel of food had been served up, Sam wiped her brow. ‘Thank you, for helping,’ she said gratefully.
‘My pleasure,’ replied Molly. ‘Honestly, anytime. It’s very humbling, especially knowing for some this is their only hot meal of the day.’
‘For some, their only meal of the day,’ replied Sam.
‘You do such wonderful work here, Sam.’ Molly was in continuous awe.
‘We all do.’ She flashed a smile towards the rest of the volunteers. ‘Teamwork is what keeps this place going.’
The volunteers carried on making huge urns of tea whilst Sam filled the sinks with hot, soapy water as the first empty trays were stacked up at the side of the hatch. Molly collected them and passed them to Sam. ‘I’m going to have to be getting home. I need to give George his bedtime kiss and Cam will be wondering where I am. He didn’t know I would be staying this long.’
Molly felt a twinge of guilt. Cam might actually be worried about her as he didn’t have a phone to check if she’d left yet and the weather out there was fierce.
‘You make sure you drive safely. Those winds are brutal and I can’t imagine it’s much fun driving across the bridge in your van in this.’
‘It wasn’t fun at all,’ Molly replied, taking off her apron and hairnet then slipping her arms back into her coat. She noticed Sam quickly counting heads before turning towards the rest of the volunteers.
‘More heads than beds. We have some emergency floor mats stored in the room upstairs but not many. The food has gone too.’ She looked over her shoulder at the crowded room. ‘At least everyone has been fed and watered. Can we bring the mats down and get those laid out in the next room?’ She looked towards the volunteers, who were already nodding and heading towards the stairs.
Sam turned towards Molly who was standing there with the wicker baskets stacked up in her arms. ‘I’ll help you to the van and lock the door behind you. There’s no more room at the inn.’
‘But you can’t lock the door.’ Molly panicked; she was thinking of Bree. ‘There might be someone who needs a place to sleep.’
‘Health and safety. I have to. But people aren’t stranded, there’s an emergency number that can be rung from designated places within the town. There’s always a back-up plan.’
After the van was loaded, Sam’s phone rang from her pocket and as she hurried back inside out of the cold to answer it. Molly noticed that Sam dropped the latch on the door, which was now firmly shut behind her. She was just about to climb inside the van when she saw a hunched figure in the distance, hurrying towards the shelter.
‘Bree,’ murmured Molly. ‘Thank God.’
Striding back towards the door, Molly hammered hard, calling out Sam’s name, but the door remained firmly locked. Molly turned back towards Bree and waved. She looked different from this morning; her coat was fastened and she was wearing the hat and scarf that Molly had left out for her. Molly banged on the door again but tried not to panic as no doubt Bree had been in this situation before and would know what to do. It was only minutes earlier that Sam had mentioned the phone line and Molly knew she’d offer to give her a lift to wherever there was a free bed for the night.
‘Bree!’ Molly called out. The snow was swirling all around and Molly shook the flakes from her face. Waving towards Bree she opened the passenger door so Bree could jump in and shield herself from the snow, but Bree stopped in her tracks. She looked directly at Molly then quickly crossed the road, leaving Molly standing there perplexed. Molly shouted again, but her voice was lost amongst the wind and the sound of a car engine starting up across the square. From a distance, it seemed that Bree had picked up speed. Then Molly watched in horror as Bree stepped off the kerb onto the road without noticing the oncoming car. Molly gasped and brought her hands up to her mouth. The car slammed on its brakes and the horn sounded as it slid a short distance along the road before colliding with a wheelie bin standing on the pavement.
The driver wound down his window and shouted expletives at Bree, but she didn’t look back over her shoulder, simply carried on walking. Slowly the car reversed and drove off.
Molly was mystified. Why was Bree walking off in the opposite direction? It was downright rude to ignore someone if they were shouting your name. But for whatever reason Bree didn’t want to speak to her. Was she was deliberately trying to avoid her? Then a fleeting thought passed through Molly’s mind. What if Cam was right? Because the only possible reason that Bree was going in the opposite direction was a guilty conscience, which Molly didn’t want to believe. She took a second and thought about it. There was also the possibility that Bree felt upset by the conversation that she must have overheard between Molly and Cam, which had caused her to suddenly up and leave. Molly wanted to apologise.
Without thinking, she slammed the van door shut and took off after Bree, striding carefully along the ungritted icy payment. She continued to shout Bree’s name but Bree didn’t look back as she disappeared down an alley off the main street. Still following, Molly buried her chin under her scarf, the ice-cold wind stinging her cheeks as she turned down the same dark alleyway, which was cluttered with flattened cardboard boxes, broken wooden pallets and wheelie bins that were covered in snow. The sound of dogs barking echoed in the distance and an argument drifted through an open window of a flat above. Molly could still see Bree in the distance, and at that moment she slipped on the icy ground and let out a squeal. She grabbed on to a drainpipe but before she knew it, her legs were taken from underneath her and she landed on the freezing cold ground with a bump.
‘Damn,’ she muttered, crossly, catching her breath.
