Page 15 of The Little Board Game Café

‘Would it be a terrible inconvenience if I took today off?’ Emily said to Peter next morning as he laid out his clothes on the bed. The bed she was still lying in. She felt even more reluctant to get up than she usually did.

‘Yes, no problem. Is your ankle that bad?’

‘No, it’s not that. It’s just…well, yesterday, everyone was staring at me. There’s so much resentment in that office with the redundancies and I know I’m one of them but I’m also your fiancée. They’ve never really liked me and they like me even less now.’

‘I’m sure you’re just imagining that, darling.’

‘And I want to look into a few possibilities, you know, for next month. When I finish at Ridley’s.’

‘Possibilities?’ Peter stopped knotting his tie and looked at Emily in the mirror. ‘What kind of possibilities?’

‘I thought I might pop to Nico’s.’

‘Nico’s? Is that the new art gallery in Leeds? Have they a vacancy?’

‘No, it’s a back-street caff. Here in Essendale.’

‘Are you meeting someone?’

‘No, I’m…’ And then the words came out all in a rush, before she could even stop to think if now was the right moment. ‘I’m wondering about buying it.’

Peter had his back to her but she could see his reflection in the mirror. For a second he frowned, deep furrows wrinkling across his forehead. Then he fixed his smile back on and turned to her.

‘Buying it? Now why on earth would you want to do that?’

‘I’ve always wanted a café. Mum and I used to say we’d run one together one day.’

‘You’ve always wanted a café? You’ve never mentioned that before. You know nothing about catering.’

‘I can bake.’

‘I’ve never seen you bake.’

‘Well, no. But that’s because you don’t eat cakes. I’m rather good at baking actually.’ She normally didn’t like to brag, but in the face of his scepticism…

‘Baking a few cakes is hardly the same as running your own hospitality business, Emily.’ He straightened his tie, planted a kiss on her forehead and said, ‘See you later, darling.’ And with that, he was gone.

‘Thanks for the encouragement,’ she muttered under her breath as she heard his footsteps descending the stairs. A few minutes later, the front door slammed behind him and she rolled over and tried to doze.

*

It was barely ten o’clock when the doorbell rang. Emily ignored it. She knew exactly who it would be.

By now, she’d managed to make it downstairs; her ankle twingeing only slightly. She put her feet up on the coffee table and continued reading A Beginner’s Guide to Starting Your Own Business, as she heard the key turning in the lock.

‘Hello,’ came a voice from the hallway. ‘Only me. Anyone home?’

Emily stayed where she was. Her mother-in-law-to-be appeared in the doorway. She and Peter had had countless arguments about his mother letting herself in like this.

Florence looked pointedly at Emily’s feet on the table. ‘Well, at least you’re dressed. Peter said you’d be having a long lie-in.’

She spoke with a plummy accent. Put on, of course. Peter had let slip once when he’d had a little too much Chablis that she’d grown up on a council estate in Barnsley. Emily never understood why people pretended to be something different from who they were.

‘Hello, Florence. Are you here to pick something up?’

She looked flustered for a moment. ‘Er, no, dear. I came to see you.’

‘Lucky me,’ said Emily, feeling anything but. ‘I’ll make some coffee, shall I?’