‘I… Would you be able to give her a message? I’m just in town for the day and I would love to speak to her. It’s about someone she used to know. Michael Jones?’ His hand pauses as he passes the bag towards me.
‘Not heard that name for a while.’ There is something in his tone, not quite defensive but more… curious. ‘Why would you be asking about him?’
‘I…’ The words clog at the back of my throat.
Spence jumps in. ‘We’ve found something that we think belonged to him.’
Bobby passes the card reader to me, and I fumble with my purse, tapping the card.
‘Can I leave my number? I’d really like to talk to Kate if she wouldn’t mind?’
He watches as I take out a pen and write down my number. My hand is shaking as I pass it across. Bobby takes it; there is a scar across his palm, and I fleetingly wonder how he got it. He glances down at my details over his glasses, then puts it inside the till.
‘Will do.’ He smiles again. ‘Anything else I can get you?’
‘No, that’s it for now. And thanks,’ I say over-enthusiastically. ‘They look delicious!’
Spence eyes the alcove at the back. ‘Coffee smells good.’
I take the hint.
‘All this talk of cherry pie is making me hungry!’ I add, ridiculously overstating the plan to stay in the shop.
Bobby nods and turns towards the next customer.
‘Subtle,’ Spence says from the corner of his mouth. ‘You’d make a terrible actress.’ I follow Spence towards the back; the radio is playing softly in the background. Behind the small counter is a girl in her late twenties. She steps back as a blast of steam comes from the coffee machine.
We order a couple of lattes. The barista is pretty; her nose stud catches the light. ‘Take a seat, I’ll bring them over.’ We sit at a small table in the corner.
My eyes linger on the walls. Generic pictures dominate, but something about the one behind Spence catches my eye. It’s a portrait. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m on my feet. The sounds of the cafe fall beneath the beat of my heart pounding in my ears.
‘Al?’
I lean towards the wall, finger touching the glass.
‘That’s Granny Kate,’ the girl says, placing the cups on the table.
Granny Kate.
‘She’s beautiful.’
‘Aye, she is.’ She smiles.
‘I…’ I turn to her. ‘I was actually looking for her. I have something… from a long time ago.’
‘Oh! Well, it’s her day off. But I can give her a bell if you like?’
I nod enthusiastically.
‘Who shall I say is looking for her?’ Her hands are already digging out her phone from her green apron pocket.
‘Alice.’ I wait a beat. ‘Tell her it’s Alice. And I’d like to talk to her about Michael.’
38
SPENCE
Around us, a kid drops a cookie into his milk and starts crying, but Al barely notices. Her eyes on the girl behind the counter talking into her phone. Alice taps the spoon against her cup. I reach over and still her hand. She looks up at me. Both of us turn our attention to the girl who is frowning, her voice lowering. ‘Gran? You there?’ Her voice sharper. The girl looks over at us, then turns her back, her voice now too quiet to hear. She ends the call and heads back over.
