Chapter 37
ON CHRISTMAS EVE, Greta headed out to do some lastminute shopping. Lottie was still at the penthouse, and would return to Greta’s after lunch on Christmas Day.
It would be the first Christmas morning the Perks hadn’t spent together as a family. Although Greta felt rather sad, the arrangements made sense. The penthouse felt too unfamiliar for them to gather together as a family, and her flat would be a squeeze.
While she missed having her daughter around, Greta had made the most of the time without her there.
She’d cleaned Lottie’s room, wrapped presents, and added some festive cheer to the flat with twinkling fairy lights and a holly wreath on the front door.
She’d even bought a new dog-shaped glass decoration for Lottie to hang on the tree.
She thought back to the last Christmas they’d spent in their old home, when they’d all sat around the dining table together. Greta’s mum had pulled crackers with Lottie, Jim carved the turkey, and they all wore colourful paper crowns.
This year would be very different. Instead of a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, Greta had stocked up on her and Lottie’s favourite buffet-style food—cheese, pasta salad, olives and a selection of nice breads.
She’d bought a bottle of mulled wine in case Jim stayed for a glass when he dropped Lottie off. She hoped that he might.
Her arms were laden with shopping bags as she crossed the road near Brewtique. Light specks of snow drifted in the sky like small feathers. The pink neon coffee cup sign inside flickered as if it was running out of energy.
Greta’s talk had only been a few weeks ago, yet it seemed like a lifetime. A hot drink and something sweet and sticky to eat called to her, even though she still found the coffee shop rather stark.
Just as she was about to push the door open, she spotted a small handwritten card taped in the window.
ASSISTANT WANTED. URGENTLY!
Something about it stopped her in her tracks.
She might be an expert on the history of Maple Gold, and have sampled Iris’s unusual brews, but she didn’t have much experience of working in a coffee shop.
Even so, something stirred inside her. Before doubt could creep in, she opened the door.
It felt strange but also good to be back. Greta could picture herself spinning on the tap to extinguish the burnt brownies, and frantically wafting a tea towel in front of the smoke alarm, like a movie playing in her head.
Brewtique had the same hollow feel, too bright and with three customers sitting scattered, lost in their own worlds. The neon cup buzzed faintly on the wall like an electric fly trap.
Josie appeared from a room at the back, wrestling with a jug of frothy milk. Her apron was smeared with chocolate, and she wore a smudge of flour across the bridge of her nose.
‘Oh, Greta, hi! So great to see you,’ she said, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. ‘I’ve just survived a last-minute Christmas Eve flurry. What can I get you?’
Greta tapped the bridge of her own nose. ‘You’ve got a smudge.’
Josie’s eyes crossed slightly as she rubbed it away. ‘Is it gone?’ Greta nodded.
Josie let out a relieved sigh as the three customers all stood up and left at the same time. She glanced around the empty café. ‘I still don’t think I’m cut out to run a coffee shop.’
Greta pointed to the card in the window. ‘That’s actually why I came in. I saw your ad, and I’m interested in the job.’
‘You are?’ Josie blinked in surprise. ‘But you’re an actor . . .’
‘Was an actor,’ Greta corrected her. ‘I’m looking for a new challenge.’
‘Well, challenge is definitely the right word for working here,’ Josie said, batting flour off her apron. ‘I haven’t had much interest in the role, maybe because it’s Christmas. Any applicants I’ve interviewed haven’t exactly been promising. Do you have any experience?’
‘Not really in a café environment. But I think I know what makes a good coffee shop.’
Josie studied her for a moment, then gestured to a table. ‘In that case, shall we sit down with a coffee?’ She eyed Greta’s shopping bags. ‘If you have time?’
Greta smiled. ‘I don’t have any plans.’
‘Snap. Me neither.’
A few minutes later, they settled into a corner devoid of any well-thumbed novels, toys, posters, or quirky motivational chalkboard signs. Greta felt the place was crying out for personality and for someone to love it. She took a sip of her coffee, and it felt good to drink an ordinary brew.
‘Maisie left her job soon after your talk. Nothing personal. She had stars in her eyes and is doing pretty well,’ Josie said. ‘Are you sure you want a normal job?’
Normal. The word didn’t sound so scary to Greta anymore. It felt solid, like an anchor.
Greta nodded. ‘I loved my old career, but nothing lasts forever, and it’s time to move on.
My daughter’s sixteen now, figuring out her own path.
I think it’s time I did the same.’ Josie leaned back with an understanding smile.
‘I always dreamed of running a café, but the reality is very different. Honestly, I have no idea what to do with the place.’
Greta looked around her, her mind starting to light up with ideas.
‘You know what I love in coffee shops? A cosy, vintage vibe. Red fringed lampshades could give this place a warmer feel, and a TV in the corner playing retro commercials would add some charm. I can picture a few antique coffee grinders in the window.’
She pointed at the back wall. ‘You could add shelves, with lines ofjars filled with different coffee blends, much cosier than the neon cup. Then, perhaps a reading nook in the corner with lots of cushions. If dogs are allowed, you could have water bowls and some treats in a jar.’
As she spoke, Greta could almost hear the chatter and laughter of new customers.
Josie raised an eyebrow. ‘You have some great ideas,’ she said. ‘And most important of all, what about cakes?’
‘It’s got to be gooey, homemade rocky road, packed full of cherries and chocolate chips.’ Greta patted her hip with a grin.
‘Oh, I totally agree.’ Josie gazed around, as if trying to picture it all. ‘I think you could be exactly what this place needs, if you’re interested? I can’t offer much—a basic wage and parttime hours. I’d love to redecorate and hire someone full-time, but money’s tight . . .’
Greta’s mind worked quickly, weighing up her options. This might not be a glamorous opportunity, but it felt rewarding and real. Her first major step away from performing.
‘Maybe if I can turn things around, we can revisit those things,’ she said. ‘I also don’t really have any references. Not the kind you’d expect, anyway.’
Josie waved a hand. ‘That’s okay. You were an absolute godsend helping me out the evening of your talk.’ With a decisive nod, she stood up. ‘Let me give you a full tour before you make your decision.’
She led Greta into the stockroom, where the shelves were piled haphazardly with supplies. There was a small washroom in need of a lick of paint.
‘There’s also some upstairs space, a flat, not being used at the moment,’ Josie said. She led the way up a narrow staircase.
Greta followed. The space was quaint and characterful, with sloping ceilings, multi-paned windows, and worn wooden floorboards. Cobwebs drifting from the old grained ceiling beams somehow added to the charm.
‘The bedrooms are pretty, too,’ Josie said, gesturing for Greta to take a look. ‘Someday, when I have enough funds, I’d like to extend the café up here, maybe adding some event space.’
Greta peered into the main bedroom. The floral wallpaper curled at the edges, and the room smelled faintly of lavender sachets. The sparse furniture consisted of an iron-framed bed and a dresser with a wonky drawer, but the potential was there.
She circled the space a couple of times, thinking that Lottie would probably like it here, too. More ideas began to swirl in her head.
‘The rent on my flat is up for renewal, and I have to decide by New Year whether to stay there or not.’ She thought for a while.
‘How about this? If I work full-time and help spruce up Brewtique, could the flat make up the difference in salary?’ Josie only took a second to decide.
‘Yes. That’s a great idea.’ She exhaled deeply, as if a weight had lifted off her shoulders.
‘It would solve a lot of things. I can’t afford to pay someone full-time right now, but this way, you’d get a place to stay, and I get the help I need.
Plus, you have some great ideas for the café space. ’
Greta placed her hands on her hips, looking around her again. She’d need to contact her landlord to let him know she wasn’t renewing her contract. She’d have to speak to Jim and Lottie, and sort out numerous other things, but this could be good. A fresh start.
‘It looks like we have a deal,’ she said, sticking out her hand.
‘Great!’ Josie said, returning the shake. ‘When do you want to start working at Brewtique?’