‘Always.’ I push the coffee supplier’s letter to the side, glad of the distraction.
‘There’s a job going at Ted’s school as a kitchen assistant. It’s only over the road from me and it’d mean I get the school holidays off so it would help with childcare.’ She rubs her hands down the front of her apron. ‘Only I know things have been a bit tough here lately and I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.’
‘You absolutely wouldn’t be.’ I don’t miss a beat in replying. Jill has been loyal to me and The Beach House and I’ll always be grateful for that. I steal a look around my quiet café. I don’t know how much longer I can pay her wages, anyway. This might be a good thing all round. ‘Go for it. It sounds perfect for you.’
‘You wouldn’t mind?’
‘Course not. I’ll get a student in for the summer. They’re always looking for hours, aren’t they?’ It’s not something I can afford, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Jill looks relieved. ‘I was dreading saying anything.’
‘Don’t be daft.’ I nod towards the driftwood clock hanging on the wall. ‘Why don’t you get off early? I can take the banana bread out of the oven.’
‘Aw. That’d be great. I need to get a bit of shopping in before I collect Ted from after school.’
With Jill gone, I set the timer on my phone so I won’t forget the oven and set to taking all the mugs off the shelf by the coffee machine and wiping them down. I only did this exact task yesterday, but I need to keep my mind and my hands busy.
The bell above the door tinkles and I turn to see Greg walking towards me. I put down the pink polka dot mug I’m wiping.
The wariness in his eyes reflects the feeling running through my body. We haven’t spoken since that awful non-date, and the few texts we’ve exchanged have been sanitised and short.
‘I’m on my way to my last meeting for the day. Thought I’d grab a coffee to go.’ He hovers by the till seat, but stays standing.
I put a takeaway cup on the drip tray of the coffee machine and press a button.
There’s something different about him. ‘Have you got gel in your hair?’ His chocolate-brown hair, which I’ve always liked, is tufted and spiky at the front and looks a bit silly.
Self-consciously, he runs his fingers through the stiff uneven clumps of hair. ‘Thought I’d try something different,’ he mumbles, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
‘Looks great,’ I say, turning to concentrate on his coffee. It doesn’t, but what else do I say?
Coffee cup full, I hand it over. There’s something else different about him too, but I can’t quite pinpoint it. He fiddles with his tie and it hits me. His ties are always navy blue. Never black, or grey or bottle green, but navy blue. That’s just him. But this one isn’t. It’s sky blue and has tiny daisies splashed all over it.
‘Is it dress-down Friday?’ I say, motioning towards his chest.
He looks down, frowning. ‘Don’t you like it?’
I shift uncomfortably. ‘It doesn’t feel very you.’
He puts his coffee down too hard and it splashes out of the hole in the lid. ‘I can’t bloody win, can I?’
The harsh pitch to his tone sets me on edge. ‘What?’
‘I’m trying to be more spontaneous,’ he growls. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’
I pause. It feels like an accusation and maybe it’s warranted. ‘I don’t want you to change.’
‘What exactly do you want then?’
Before I can answer, my phone alarm goes off. ‘Shoot. Sorry,I need to get that,’ I say, spinning around. ‘The bread will burn otherwise.’
‘Can’t you leave it for a minute? At least give me the courtesy of finishing this conversation.’
I’m torn. If I don’t get the banana bread, we’ll have no cakes for tomorrow. ‘I need to get it. I’ll only be a minute,’ I say. I feel like I’m on a tightrope being pulled one way, then the other, and about to plummet to the ground any minute.
‘You don’t care, do you? I went out of my comfort zone because I thought that’s what you wanted. And you won’t even finish a conversation.’ Greg’s eyes have narrowed and he’s yanking his tie undone. ‘We were better when we were friends with benefits,’ he spits out.
The door tinkles again and my eyes widen. This is not what I need right now.
