Chapter 7 #2
The signal fault has been repaired, and the café is now enjoying a much-needed quieter period.
I’m in the kitchen, staring at my whiteboard.
To pass the test, I must do something from my list – ask Molly if she wants a Saturday job.
I squeeze the marker in my hand like it is a stress toy.
This feels uncomfortable, as I haven’t given the idea a good twelve months’ contemplation.
Glancing at the clock and then back at the board, I review my list to see if there’s anything else I can do in the next couple of hours.
There’s no way I can lose half a stone in that time, nor can I sort out my bathroom mould issue. Nope. I need to ask Molly.
I take a deep breath. ‘I need to pass the test for Mum.’
My hands feel clammy. Why does this feel so difficult? I reassure myself that Molly will be great, and it will also help improve relations with Laura.
Laura comes into the kitchen. ‘Two cheese toasties, Florence.’
I nod, and as she turns on her heel, I call out. ‘Would Molly like to earn some extra money and help us on a Saturday?’
She beams and gestures to the board. ‘I saw your idea earlier. That would be great,’ she replies.
‘Maybe this will make Molly smile? She was very stroppy yesterday after I finished work and we had a huge argument.’ Hearing her say this makes me think back to last night, to the sounds of Jane shouting at Jack drifting through the wall.
At one point, I heard him shout that he didn’t like a mum who was always sad.
I went to bed feeling crappy about not going over to ask Jane if she was okay when she was crying in her car.
‘When Molly comes in, I’ll ask her,’ I say, as relief floods through me. That wasn’t too hard.
After making the toasties, I carry them out, and when I return to the counter, Mum is smiling at me.
The sight of her makes me open my arms and pull her into an unexpected hug.
If I had died, I would never have been able to do this again.
Closing my eyes I inhale her floral perfume and try not to cry.
‘Florence, what has come over you?’ she exclaims as I release her. ‘Careful, you’ll mess up my hair. I have had it cut.’ She touches her shoulder-length blonde hair. ‘Steve likes it layered. Thought I would pop in for a coffee and see how my favourite daughter is doing?’
Steve, from the snooker hall, keeps cropping up in more conversations. Now she’s getting her hair cut to please him. An uncomfortable feeling passes through me. ‘Take a seat, Mum. I’ll be over in a sec.’
I glance at Dad’s photo on the notice board, and my heart lets out a series of aches. ‘You weren’t supposed to leave us, Dad,’ I silently say to him. ‘You should still be here with Mum and me. Steve wouldn’t be in her life, and I wouldn’t have to be worried about her all the time.’
I take Mum her latte. She fiddles with her large gold hoop earring as I place it in front of her. ‘Did I tell you about Steve booking a holiday to Tenerife?’ she says. ‘The big question is – will he want to go all-inclusive?’
As she tells me about how Steve loves self-catering on holiday but fancies a change as he likes the idea of someone doing all the cooking, I glance back at Dad’s photo. My eyes become watery, and everything goes blurry.
‘What would you say, Florence, if I told you I was thinking of going with him?’
Her words make me jolt with shock. ‘What?’
I turn back to her as she touches her hair.
She casts me a coy smile. ‘I’m thinking of going with Steve.’
Her smile fades as I shake my head. She knows my thoughts about Steve. ‘Do you think it’s a bit soon to be going on holiday with a man you’ve just met? Dad has only been gone three years.’
She blinks. ‘Steve and I are just friends. Don’t worry, there’s nothing romantic going on.’
I need to think fast. ‘You and Dad went to Tenerife a lot, and you claimed you didn’t like it.’
‘You’re right,’ she says. ‘I’ve been to Tenerife loads of times. I don’t need to go with Steve.’ She lets out a nervous laugh. ‘He’s bought an interesting pair of swimming trunks. I wouldn’t know where to look if he strutted out in those around the pool. No, I will stay here.’
Oh, God, he’s been showing her his Speedos. ‘Mum,’ I say, picking my words carefully. ‘Steve sounds weird.’
She drinks her latte, and I listen to her talk about how big the house feels now that my younger brother has emigrated to Australia.
Once she’s finished, we say goodbye, and she heads off.
She stands outside the café, and I watch her pause to look up the street towards the snooker hall.
‘Don’t go and see Steve,’ I say under my breath, trying to telepathically reach my mother.
To my dismay, she walks in that direction.
‘Everything all right?’ Laura asks.
‘It will be once my mother comes to her senses.’
Laura smiles. ‘She’s a grown woman, Florence. Let her live her life.’
‘My brothers are on the other side of the world, so it’s my job to look out for her,’ I say with a scowl and go distract myself by emptying the dishwasher.
When Molly comes into the café after school finishes, I start to think of all the reasons why her working in the café might not work; she and Laura might argue in front of customers, and what if Molly turns out to be a nightmare or is rude to customers, and I have to get rid of her?
That would make it awkward for me with Laura.
This is why I struggle to make quick decisions.
Feeling wobbly, I ask Laura to serve, and I go into the kitchen to wipe my whiteboard clean. This is like an emotional reset for me. Other people, when feeling stressed, go for a walk or breathe deeply, whereas I clean my board. Sometimes twice. Sometimes aggressively.
Before my whiteboard entered my life, I battled through phone note chaos. My notes felt like a cryptic collection of half-sentences like – ‘Remember that thing’, and ‘Must speak to X’ I could never remember what any of them referred to.
However, maybe I don’t need to keep my list any more as Clark and I might pass the test later. He seemed very confident about his side of things when we spoke this morning.
Once my list has gone, I feel calmer and almost serene.
The clock catches my eye. Damn it – we don’t have long left before closing time. My shoulders and neck stiffen. I’m going to have to ask Molly.
After a deep breath I head out and spot her in the queue. ‘Shall we grab a seat and have a chat?’
Her face brightens. ‘Yes, that would be cool.’
As we settle down by the window, I watch her eyes dart back across the café at Laura. There’s something troubling her. A little voice deep inside me questions whether offering Molly a Saturday job will be enough to help. I quickly dismiss it.
I need to focus on the task at hand. Molly needs my help, and I must pass this test.
‘How would you like to work in here for a few hours on a Saturday?’
She sucks on the straw of her milkshake. ‘Oh… erm… yes.’
I was expecting her to be a little more upbeat by my offer, but I must remember she’s fourteen. Teenagers are hard to impress.
‘Is that all you wanted to talk about?’ she asks as the doorbell jangles and in walks Clark. By the look of him, he’s smartened himself up after his night of passion. Anger and irritation course through my veins.
‘Florence,’ says Molly. ‘Can I talk—’
Clark is looking over at me. ‘Why is he in here so early? That man is infuriating.’
She sighs. ‘You’d better go to Clark.’
I rise from my chair and hurry to the counter. ‘What do you want?’ I growl.
‘That’s a lovely warm welcome, Florence. I’ll have a cappuccino, please,’ he says with his boyish, lopsided smile. ‘Can you also make sure it tastes nice?’
He’s not getting a happy greeting out of me.
As I make his drink, he leans over the counter. ‘Do you think you’ve done enough to pass?’
‘I’ve just completed my task,’ I say, injecting confidence into my voice.
Once I’ve made his drink, he heads to a table in the corner. He and I are busy trading filthy looks across the café when Laura comes to stand beside me. ‘What has Clark done now? You look like a bulldog chewing a thistle.’
I open my mouth to start telling her about how Clark and I went to the afterlife… but I close it. She wouldn’t believe me, and anyway, once Clark and I get the message later to say we’ve passed, it will all be over. I shrug my shoulders. ‘He is so annoying.’
Laura gives me a friendly nudge. ‘Have you heard from Chris on Instagram today?’
I smile. ‘He was the first to like my story.’
She looks worried. ‘What you need, Florence, is some real romance in your life.’
‘Real?’ I question. ‘Chris is real.’
‘Dating has done wonders for me,’ she says. ‘Why don’t you get on the apps?’
I cast her a puzzled look. ‘The other week you told me there’s nothing on them but turkey teeth and beige turtlenecks.’
She shrugs. ‘You might get a different algorithm.’
‘Excuse me,’ says a familiar voice. We both look up to see Clark holding out his coffee. ‘It doesn’t taste right.’
With a roll of my eyes, I take it from him. While I’m making him a new coffee, I tell myself that this nightmare celestial situation will soon be over.