Chapter 11 Freddie
Freddie
This is fucking pandemonium.
Since I arrived for shift number two, I haven’t stopped. Every table is full and there’s a constant queue of customers that stays long and angry no matter how much Anna and I try to whittle it down.
Behind the counter, I’m next to useless.
Anna moves faster than Sonic, flitting between the till and churning out perfect coffees in a never-ending rhythm.
Once it became clear I was just getting in her way, she banished me to the café floor to seat customers, clear tables and run orders, which I’ve been doing non-stop for the past four hours. My feet hurt and I need a piss.
“Freddie!” Anna shouts my name as I finish clearing a table for four. Balancing plates and mugs in a precarious stack, I hurry back over to pick up the next batch of coffees.
“Table six!” Anna instructs as I dump the crockery in the already-full sink with a clatter. “Oat milk latte, americano with cold soy on the side, a mocha, and a peppermint tea. Take these over then I need more mugs asap!”
“Right,” I say, gripping the tray with the freshly made drinks and testing the weight of it. “It’s just… two tables are waiting to order—”
“They can wait!” Anna snaps. “I need time to catch up! Mugs first, then you can get their orders. Have you taken table three’s sandwiches over?”
I stare at her like a deer in the headlights. “Table three’s sandwiches?”
She shoots me a withering glare. “Two pastrami and emmental. Remember?”
I nod, but I can barely remember my own name at this point.
“Okay,” I pick up the tray of drinks. Damn, it’s heavy! “Drinks, then sandwiches, then mugs, then orders?”
Anna clicks her tongue. “Yes! Quickly!”
Quick as I dare, I make my way back around the counter. The drinks wobble precariously on the tray. I’m so focused on not spilling them, I’m barely looking where I’m going.
The little girl comes out of nowhere. A flash of blonde hair to my left is the only warning I get before she runs, full tilt, into my side, knocking me off balance.
My hand slips and I watch in horror as the tray starts to fall.
In a fraction of a second, I realise two things: one, there’s no saving the drinks, and two, if I don’t do something, this clumsy child is about to get a faceful of scalding hot coffee.
I throw myself between her and the falling tray, catching it from underneath with one hand and catapulting it in the other direction. Wham! It hits the floor with a deafening smash. Cups shatter, saucers crack, and coffee splatters up the walls with the force of a land mine.
Behind me, the café falls silent. Then someone shouts, “way-hey!” in a mocking voice which is followed by a ripple of laughter.
I hang my head. The mess is awful. I can’t bring myself to look at Anna. She’s been working so hard to keep us afloat and now I’ve wasted a whole table’s worth of drinks.
“Ava!” a stout woman rushes up and crouches beside the little girl. “Are you okay?”
“Yep,” says Ava like nothing’s happened.
“It’s okay,” I say, breathing hard, “I think I missed her—”
“Watch where you’re going!” The woman snaps. “What if she’d been burned!”
I want to tell her if she can’t control her kids to put a leash on them, but then I remember I’m at work.
“Sorry,” I say through gritted teeth. “It was an accident.”
“You should be more careful!” The woman takes her daughter by the arm and rejoins the queue. Slowly, the general hubbub of chatter fills the room again. I blow out a long, heavy breath and turn to find Anna holding a dustpan and brush.
“Here,” she passes them to me.
“But what about—” I start, but she shakes her head.
“It’s fine. I’ll do it. You clean.”
Anna bustles off to pick up my slack. I can tell she’s annoyed, but at least she didn’t scream at me.
I feel like a colossal twat. I used to turn my nose up at the idea of working in a place like this.
I thought it was beneath me, too easy, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Working with Anna has shown the gulf in skill between us.
Mad respect to her and Shaun. I’ve never felt more like a spare part in my life.
Wielding the brush and pan, I crouch down and start sweeping up my mess.
Finally, it’s over. We closed ten minutes ago and I couldn’t be more relieved. I tuck the chairs under the table I’ve just cleaned and stretch, my back cracking like a machine gun. Everything hurts.
“How do you do this every day?” I ask Anna as she cashes up the till.
“You get used to it,” she says, “and it’s not always as crazy as that.”
Thank fuck.
I wipe the sweat off my brow.
“I’m sorry I was a bit useless today,” I say, dragging my feet as I approach the counter. “I hope I didn’t get in your way too much?”
Anna sucks her teeth. “You weren’t useless. You need more practice. I didn’t have a chance to teach you much today, but tomorrow we’ll try again.”
I give a dry chuckle. “I’m just glad Shaun wasn’t here. He might have fired me when he saw how much shit I dropped.”
Anna frowns. “Shaun wouldn’t do that. He’s very fair. Don’t worry about it.”
I can’t tell if she’s just being polite or not, but she doesn’t seem the type to sugarcoat things. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought.
“So, what made you wanna work here?” I ask, given we’ve had zero chance to chat today.
“I used to work on cruise ships,” she says, as though it’s run-of-the-mill.
“In the bars and restaurants and coffee kiosks. I liked the fast pace of it. And the travel. Then I had my boy and my matka moved in, so I had to stop for a while, but I missed the work. I like making coffee. I’m good at it.
I knew once Ethan got older, I wanted to work again.
Now he’s started school and it was just good fortune that Shaun was opening up this place.
Things just, how do you say, fell into place? ”
“Rad,” I say, “and Shaun seems like a pretty cool guy to work for.”
“He is,” Anna shuts the till with a bang. “But he is not good at taking care of himself. He works too hard. I’ve seen it before and it always ends in burnout. He is already different from when I met him.”
“Different how?” I ask.
Anna sighs. “It’s not my business to tell, but he’s had a hard time lately. He needs support.”
I shouldn’t pry, but curiosity gets the better of me. “A hard time? You mean, starting a café?”
“That, yes. And other things. But it’s his business to tell.” Anna gives me a sombre smile. “Just don’t let him down. He’s a good one.”
“I can tell,” I say. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good. I think you’ll like working here, Freddie. I can already tell Shaun likes you. Here. Your tips.” Anna hands me a couple of notes which I accept gratefully, even if I don’t feel like I deserve them. “You can go, if you want. Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow. Good work.”
“Thanks Anna. You too!”
Feeling a bit better, I grab my jacket from the back and head out into the cold.
I don’t feel like going home yet. My gut tells me Rory wants some space. He hasn’t messaged, and I don’t want to risk another row with him. Instead, I catch my usual bus but get off a few stops early and make my way to Sabre.
Andre, the assistant manager, is working the bar. He’s a big-bellied, hairy bear of a man who always seems to have a stockpile of weed handy to sell to patrons out the back. Today he’s wearing a leather waistcoat, pink booty shorts, and not much else.
“Well hello, Freddie,” he says as I take a seat. “A bit early for you, isn’t it?”
“Just finished work,” I say, proudly.
“Work? Gosh. All grown up now, is he?”
I shrug. “Desperate times.”
Andre places both hands on the bar and looks me up and down. “Oh honey. You know I’d have offered you a job here, if you hadn’t slept with all the patrons.”
I fold my arms in defiance. “Not all of them.”
“Well, no. Not the women.”
Cheeky bastard. I pull a fiver out of my pocket and slap it on the bar. “Rum and coke?”
“You got it, honey.”
Andre gets to work making my drink. Across the bar, a man catches my eye.
He’s older, a silver fox with pretty blue eyes and a trim mustache.
Ordinarily I’d be straight in there, but I’m not feeling it tonight.
I’m shattered, and all I can think about is what Anna told me: how Shaun’s had a hard time of it lately.
How he needs support. If he’s already feeling overwhelmed, me trying it on with him definitely wouldn’t have helped.
I had no way of knowing, but still, I feel bad.
I drink my rum and coke, wait a bit, then order another.
By the time the club starts filling up, my head is swimming.
The drink seems to be hitting harder than usual.
Then I remember I haven’t eaten since breakfast. With my last fiver, I order a bowl of spicy fries and scarf them down.
The silver fox is watching me from a table in the corner.
I know the look. Odds are he’ll ask me to join him and his friends for a drink soon. Tempting, but no.
“See you later, Andre,” I say, hopping down from my bar stool.
“Not sticking around?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
“Nah. Early start. I’ll catch you later.”
On the walk home, I draft a message to Shaun. Then redraft it. Again and again. By the time I turn onto Cherry Street, I have what I think is a decent apology primed and ready to go. As I creep my way inside the house in case Rory is asleep, I give it one last scan:
Hey Shaun. Thanks again for the ride home the other day!
You’re probably asleep but I just wanted to apologise properly for my behaviour.
I was out of line and you were right to call me out on it.
I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable and I hope you can forgive me.
Looking forward to our next shift together. Freddie.
Satisfied, I hit send.