Page 83 of The Little Board Game Café

The board games group. Ludek.

Emily glanced at her watch. Quarter past five. She’d been so busy that she hadn’t thought of him for thirty-nine minutes. A new world record.

And she’d be seeing him soon.

Her back was aching. Her feet were aching. And was that a headache coming on? She felt terrible and was pretty sure she looked terrible too. A hot bath. That was what she needed. She’d head back to Kate’s.

On the way, she passed Sweet Delights, already closed for the day. Unusual. Normally they were still clearing up after a busy day when she went past. She glanced at Costa: its dark-maroon sign was up now. Emily wished she’d been able to afford a proper sign for her café, rather than the stick-on thing. One day soon, she promised herself.

She stopped by Oxfam and peered in the window. She hadn’t been in once since she opened the café; there hadn’t been time. Maybe Julia was right. Maybe it was time to employ someone to help. Then she could occasionally take an hour off.

‘Nice dress, isn’t it?’ said a voice beside her.

Emily turned to see Annie from Ridley’s. The woman she’d never clicked with. The one who’d set her sights on Peter. At least, she had until he’d laid her off at the same time as he’d made Emily redundant. Bet Annie didn’t fancy him after that.

‘Yeah, nice dress,’ Emily said, though in truth, the little black number hanging in the window was a bit formal for her liking. ‘How’s it going, Annie?’

‘Not great.’

‘How come?’

‘I lost my job, remember?’

Emily nodded. ‘Sucks, doesn’t it?’

‘You must have got a bigger pay-out than me, Emily. I suppose that figures. Sleeping with the boss.’

‘A bigger pay-out?’

‘You bought your own café.’

Anger began to bubble up inside Emily. ‘Not with my pay-out. I’d been saving up for years. Since I was a teenager, in fact. And I had a small inheritance. My mum was killed in an accident when I was sixteen. So if you think Peter or money from Ridley’s paid for that café, well, you’d be wrong.’

‘Oh god, Emily. I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your mum. I feel terrible now.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘No, it’s… Well, I’m so fed up. I lost my flat soon after Peter laid me off – I couldn’t afford the rent. And now I’m sofa-surfing with friends and I’m not sure how much longer they’ll put up with me. I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Annie,’ Emily said, and she meant it. She’d never warmed to the woman when they worked together at Ridley’s, but she wouldn’t have wished that on her. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. But if I hear of any jobs, I’ll let you know.’

‘Great, can I give you my number?’

‘I’m not sure I’ve got a pen.’

Annie pulled out a battered iPhone. ‘Tell me your number and I’ll give you a missed call.’

Emily felt reluctant to give her phone number to her former colleague, but she wanted to get home for her bath, so she reeled it off, then said, ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Good luck with everything.’

She could feel Annie’s eyes boring into her back as she hurried away, her phone ringing in the bottom of her bag.

It wasn’t until later, as she sat in the bath in Kate’s pristine bathroom, that it occurred to her: she could employ Annie.

No, that wouldn’t be a good idea.

For one thing, they didn’t get on.

For another, what if this week was a one-off? In a few days, Costa would open and the customers might stop coming.