Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
“ K ent’s given me this piece of paper,” Sophie said to Gemma the following morning. “Apparently, it’s the login information for my staff email. I didn’t know we had staff email, though. Am I meant to do something?”
Gemma scrunched up her nose as she looked at the small slip.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “He’s given one to me, too. He seems to have forgotten that we have an account for orders already, and I barely have time to check that. Or that we don’t work in an office. Keep it if you want, but I can’t imagine what he’d put in an email that couldn’t be said to us in person. It just lets him feel like he’s in charge, that’s all.”
Several frown lines creased Sophie’s normally smooth forehead. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Really, don’t worry about it.”
The door opened, and Gemma moved swiftly across to the counter, only to stop. It was Margaret. Gemma had thought she’d looked pale and unwell the last time she had come in—when Kent had complained about her spending too long nursing her drink. But today, she looked even worse.
Her skin was a sallow grey, her eyes dull, and she looked at least a decade older than the woman who used to come in and have coffee with her mother. Gemma’s stomach tightened.
“How’s she doing?” she asked.
The slightest hint of a smile flickered on Margaret’s lips, though it faded before it could fully form.
“She’s hanging on, but how or why? I’m not even sure anymore. The doctors say she’s not in any pain. Not with all the things they’re pumping into her, but you can’t know for sure, can you? She’d hate it, you know. Being like that. Not even knowing what’s going on. Is it wrong that part of me just wishes… Oh… I don’t know… No, I can’t say that. I just hate it all.”
Gemma felt no judgement towards Margaret for the words she hadn’t wanted to say. No one wanted to see a loved one suffer. It only caused the pain to spread to those who couldn’t help. That was how Gemma felt at that moment, pained that there was nothing she could do to ease Margaret’s situation.
“Go take a seat. I’ll bring your drink over,” she said.
“Thank you.”
As she turned around to head back to the counter, Gemma found herself facing Kent. She was about to ask him what he was doing out of the kitchen when she saw his gaze shift to Margaret. Her pulse spiked.
“She can sit there as long as she wants,” she said. “We don’t put our customers on a timer here.”