Chapter 4 #3
‘Right, first you get your basket . . .’ he began, unscrewing the thing with the handle.
‘Add 22.5 grams of coffee grounds, and that’ll be exactly equivalent to the shot that comes out of the machine.
Look at that,’ he said appreciatively, rolling the dark liquid round the bottom of the cup.
‘Beautiful. Now, your milk – you’re lookin’ for a rich, creamy texture, no bubbles. ’
Dave wasn’t just a server, she could see, he was a craftsman.
She followed his instructions, more or less, and after a few attempts produced a cappuccino, a latte and a flat white.
Those elaborate designs on the top she’d always taken for granted, she realised were the result of long hours of practice.
Just then, Pete emerged from the back, covered with his usual layer of plaster dust.
‘Right, guys,’ said Dave. ‘I’m going to have to head out – Fia is having her pregnancy scan – but I’ll be back by lunchtime. Evelyn has finished, Ally, can you hold the fort on your own until then?’
Oh shit.
‘On my own? Are you serious?’
Dave looked at her like the parent of a small child at the school door who really, really needs to let go of their leg so they can get to work.
‘’Course you can,’ he said firmly and vanished out the door.
She swung round to Pete, who was grinning at her.
‘Welcome to the deep end.’
‘Feck that, I feel like someone’s just punctured my water wings.’
‘Are these going free?’ he said, perusing her training coffees.
‘Knock yourself out.’
He was examining her attempts at embellishment and trying not to laugh.
‘Sooo, this is a spider caught in a high wind? And this one is a . . . charging buffalo in a snowstorm?’
‘Feck off, Pete, you’re not helping. Are they really that bad?’
He chuckled in a way that some men have, where his enjoyment of the situation was funny in itself.
‘I’m messing with you. Look, eighty per cent of your sales will be takeaways, and nobody’s going to give a monkey’s about the twiddles on top.’
‘And the other twenty per cent?’
He put on a face like a motorcycle cop. ‘That’s where you’ll have a problem . . .’
‘Shut up, Pete, you’re just trying to freak me out,’ she cried, and without thinking, she scooped a finger full of foam out of a cup and flipped it at him.
For a moment he looked slightly shocked then he scooped some cappuccino froth and flicked it back, watching it land on her hair.
They both suppressed a giggle like naughty children.
‘Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything?’
‘Oh, yes . . . No, absolutely, what can I get you?’
Ally swung round to face one of the Gym+Coffee ladies: lightly bronzed complexion with fresh highlights and perfect teeth at least four shades whiter than most people could ever hope for.
Ally instantly sobered up and tried to discreetly wipe the foam out of her hair while Pete slipped out of sight.
‘Hi, you’re new. Could I have an Americano, two shots, and leave room for the milk? Oh, and Dave always gives me twenty per cent off for getting it in my keep cup,’ she declared in a nasal whine.
‘Sure.’
Hang on, she thought, that meant nearly a euro off.
On one coffee. That was outrageous. This one had clearly sussed that she was a new girl and was trying it on.
On the other hand, she’d rather skydive off the roof than face conflict, and her opponent was clearly a total Karen who specialised in getting her own way.
Dave wasn’t around, and she’d probably bully him anyway.
There was only one person she could think of who wouldn’t be bullied.
Rosemarie.
She gave the woman a dead-eyed Rosemarie stare.
‘Yeah, sorry, I could give you a discount but it’s only ten per cent.’
‘May I see the manager?’
‘Sorry, he’s not here. I’m in charge.’
Ally was sure – this one did intimidate Dave and got herself a special rate, even though she could clearly afford full price. There was something about her sense of entitlement that was getting right on Ally’s tits, and there was no way she was backing down. The woman inhaled ostentatiously.
‘Excuse me, I thought Dave liked to support those of us customers who actually care about the environment. Where does it say ten per cent discount on the menu?’
‘Nowhere.’
‘And would you like me to tell Dave next time I see him that you were disobliging to a valued customer?’
For a moment Ally wavered, but she knew in her heart that Rosemarie would hang tough.
‘Look, we give a small discount as a gesture of goodwill, but Dave can’t afford to undercut himself like that, even if he doesn’t like to refuse you.’
She was presenting the woman with a moral conundrum. You could do this, but what sort of an arsehole would it make you? The woman contemplated her for a moment then smiled. ‘Oh, sure, it’s nothing, just carry on.’
Ally beamed back brightly but it just showed – people treated you about as well as you taught them to.
The door had just clanged shut behind Mrs Gym+Coffee, when Pete reappeared. She explained the situation to him.
‘Well done. That one drives a car the Qatari royal family wouldn’t turn their noses up at. By the way, how are your fish?’
‘Fish? Fish! Oh, great, I got them home safely.’ Just then she realised her gaffe.
‘Really? I thought you already had them?’
Caught.
‘Look, Pete, I’m no good at lying. I was whacked yesterday and I made a stupid excuse to leave. Then I had to go and buy the fish to make it the truth.’
He looked at her and began to laugh. ‘You went out and actually bought a whole aquarium to un-tell a lie? I’m impressed. So, do they have names, like say . . . Fish and Chips?’
‘That’s gruesome, I can’t think of them as food. I was thinking more something like Bonnie and Clyde?’
‘We all know how that ended. Could be tempting fate . . . How about Harry and Sally?’
She smiled. ‘Now you’re talking.’
Just then there was a ruckus. The bell rang and four women piled through the door, chatting animatedly.
Oh my God, this was her ultimate nightmare: real-life pressure with no one to help.
Breathe, she said to herself. She just needed to remember what Dave had told her: if you get a crowd, tell them to take a seat, take their order carefully and explain you’ll bring the stuff down to them.
Don’t let people hassle or stress you, that’s how you make mistakes.
Work steadily, he’d said, everyone’s going to want their order yesterday. Customers were like wild animals, she’d noticed. They could smell panic. She’d have to look confident, no matter how she felt.
Pete took a seat wordlessly at a table just down from the counter but still within her line of vision.
She went through the sequence: warm the cups, grind the coffee, make the shots, froth the milk.
When in the past she’d seen baristas flicking away at this lever and that, it had always looked so straightforward, obvious even, but there actually was an awful lot to remember.
At one point she left out a stage and was about to panic but, meeting her eye, Pete gave her a thumbs up and her shoulders dropped.
She managed four coffees and delivered them on a tray, then retreated behind the counter to observe their reaction from between the straws and the tips jar.
The volume of chat never changed. Everyone seemed to find their orders perfectly unremarkable.
The truth was that you had to be either very good or very bad to stand out. Good enough would have to do for now.
* * *
Just before a quarter to one, as promised, Dave reappeared.
Ally could tell he was making a brave attempt at his usual easy-going manner, but the strain coming from him was palpable.
He barely met her eye and carried on for the rest of lunchtime burying his head in work, thankfully taking over most of the barista duties.
As the queue eased up, she wanted to enquire how the appointment had gone but there was a ‘keep away’ vibe around him that warned her off.
By three thirty she threw her long grey coat on over her work clothes and made for the door, where she bumped into Pete.
‘Which way are you heading?’ She smiled at him.
‘Nowhere right now, I’m just parked round the back.’
There was something evasive in his manner, despite how friendly and helpful he’d been that morning.
‘Thanks for today.’ She smiled.
‘For what, slagging off your coffee?’
‘No, just being there, it was supportive.’ She knew only too well that she could have lost her nerve at any moment and freaked out without him.
‘Go away out of that. Sure, you were all over it.’
He stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, pensively. Somewhere in the fringes of her mind she was vaguely aware of how snugly they clung to his taut buttocks.
‘Do you think Dave is OK?’ she asked.
‘No, but I think he’ll tell us nothing till he’s ready.’
‘You know him, don’t you?’
‘Yep, we used to play schools rugby together, back in the day.’
‘Wow, interesting.’
She knew from endless boring conversations over the dinner table at home that schools rugby was a serious business. Meanwhile, another part of her brain altogether was concluding that this explained his taut ass.
‘Anyhow,’ he remarked, ‘you’d better head on. Harry and Sally will be missing you.’
* * *
Ally smiled to herself as she headed towards the Luas stop. Just then her phone buzzed.
‘Darling.’ Before she had a second to inhale, her mother launched in, ‘I just needed to chat to you after Sunday. What had you in such a state? Dad was wondering if it was the perimenopause, but I told him not to be ridiculous, none of our family ever hit that before their fifties. In fact, Gerry, your great-aunt – now, she was a nun, and by all accounts she still had periods into her sixties.’
Ally had reached the card-swiping point by that stage and quite a few people – women, mostly – were furiously earwigging on her mum’s monologue. In fairness, it was kind of comforting.
‘Right . . .’
‘So, I said to him, no, it’s something else. But you know, I can’t ask him to stop seeing you know who . . . Francis. He lives for his Saturdays. And so do I.’
There was a pause.
‘Darling, I can hear street noises . . . Are you not at work?’
‘Yeah, no, it’s complicated. I’m off for a few days.’
‘Oh goody, would you like to meet for a late lunch on Thursday? My treat, I’ll have finished my volunteer hospital visiting by then.’
Ally was starting to flag by this stage; she really needed this call to end. ‘Lovely.’
‘Westbury, 2 p.m. and try to look nice, won’t you, darling?’