Yasmin looked up and gave a brief smile, before reabsorbing herself in the computer screen.
‘I’m going to get a drink. Would anybody else like one? Ollie, you look like you could do with a strong coffee. Yasmin?’
‘I would love a coffee but the machine is still broken,’ Yasmin replied.
‘Oh? I might be able to do something about that. I think I’ve got… yes… here it is.’ Trev rummaged around in his rucksack before taking out a screwdriver. He took off his cap and went over to where the coffee machine still bore a sign declaring that it was out of order. He turned it around, pulled open the moveable compartments and poked about inside before picking it up to inspect the underside.
‘Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?’ Irene huffed, clomping over. ‘Can’t you read?’
Yasmin’s head snapped up as I sprang to my feet. I hoped that Irene had simply made an insensitive mistake, but then – this was Irene.
‘Not very well, no.’
Irene’s lips twisted in horror as Trev pointed the screwdriver at her to emphasise his point, then turned to prise open the back of the machine.
‘You can’t just come in here and start vandalising library property. Stop it at once!’
Ignoring her, Trev carried on prodding about in the machine while Irene huffed and puffed.
‘I said stop it!’ She turned to me, eyes bulging. ‘Are you going to do something, or will I have to call the police?’
Before I could answer, Trev reclicked the back into place. ‘Not unless you want to offer them a cup of coffee.’ He gave a grin that I think he fully intended to be a tiny bit menacing. ‘Stick the power back on, would you, love?’
Irene gaped at him. Shaking his head, Trev bent under the table, flicked on the socket, pressed the machine’s ‘on’ button and then selected a black coffee, deftly slipping a cup under the spout as the hot liquid started spurting out.
‘It’s broken!’ Irene said, bobbing from one foot to the other. ‘It’s going to start spilling everywhere!’
At a perfect centimetre from the top of the paper cup, the machine gurgled to a stop.
‘Any sugar?’ Trev asked, glancing at Yasmin.
‘Yes, please.’
He ripped open a sugar sachet with a flourish, poured it in and gave it a vigorous stir with a wooden stick before placing it next to Yasmin. ‘Here you go. Sorry about the wait.’
‘Thank you,’ Yasmin replied, watching Irene over the rim of the cup as she took a tentative sip.
‘Oh,’ Irene said weakly, her hand still clutching at her heart.
‘You got a recycling bin for paper?’ Trev asked her, holding up the Out of Order sign.
‘Um, yes. I’ll take it.’ She opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times while Trev waited. ‘Thank you. And, um… I need to go and cancel the repair man. Excuse me.’
Watching her scurry off, Trev made two more coffees and brought them over.
‘Too much to ask for an apology,’ Yasmin said, frowning.
‘I got a thank you.’ He shrugged one shoulder, slipping his cap back on.
‘Still.’ Yasmin pursed her lips. ‘She threatened to call the police!’
‘I know what people think when they first see me. It’s my own daft fault. I was trying to look scary and intimidating, so I can hardly complain when it works.’
‘Not all people,’ Yasmin said softly, still scrolling down the computer screen as she sipped her coffee.
‘Pardon?’
‘Not all people think that about you.’ She flicked her eyes over to him for a split second. ‘Some of us have seen enough to not make that kind of judgement.’
Trev’s whole face went slack in surprise.
‘Personally, I think that eyes are the window to a man’s soul.’ She squinted at the screen. ‘You have kind eyes.’
It wasn’t Trev’s most productive session. He spent the hour alternating between trying his best for a minute or so, before inevitably his attention drifted back over to where Yasmin was still working her way through the online information about dog-training courses.
When Jaxx arrived bearing yet more samples of Nomato sauce, Trev was more than happy to hang around for a taste test.
‘Jaxx, are you sure this meets all the British food standards?’ I asked, reluctantly accepting a cracker bearing a blob of bright orange sauce.
‘I’ve been eating tons of the stuff, and look at me.’ He grinned.
Yasmin narrowed one eye. ‘That’s not as reassuring as I think you meant it to be.’
‘Can’t be worse than the crap they dished up in… where I used to live,’ Trev said, sniffing a cracker, before reeling back again. ‘Then again…’
‘This is definitely better than what I ate in prison,’ Yasmin said, rubbing at her wrist. ‘No food standards in that cursed pit of hell.’
Trev choked on the tiny nibble he’d just taken.
‘Intense, innit?’ Jaxx offered him a water bottle.
‘What is this?’ To my huge relief, Irene reappeared before I was forced to take a bite.
‘Taste testing, Irene.’ Jaxx offered her the plastic tub of samples. ‘Here. Sorry to have missed you out!’
Irene pulled a taut smile. It looked as though the papery skin on her cheeks might crack. ‘Ollie, please point out the sign to your clients.’
‘We aren’t supposed to eat our own food in the library,’ I said. ‘No drinks except for those available at the refreshment table.’
‘What?’ Jaxx’s huge, puppy-dog eyes gazed at Irene from under his tracksuit hood. ‘How am I supposed to conduct my market research, then? It’s hard enough getting started, with all this bureaucracy like customs, licences and permits to deal with. Bureau-crap-cy, I call it! I never dreamt that you of all people would be one to crush the entrepreneurial spirit, Irene. Surely you can make an exception for a mate?’
‘A what?’ Irene appeared bamboozled.
‘Go on, you know you want to!’
To everyone’s amazement but Jaxx’s, Irene abruptly picked up a cracker and took a sharp bite. Face contorting through a range of emotions, she chewed, swallowed and then downed a cupful of water.
‘Even if food were allowed in this library, I wouldn’t allow that. I recommend you reconsider your investigations into a career as a paramedic. We’ll be needing a lot more of them if Nomato starts selling.’
‘Woah. That’s harsh!’ Jaxx’s face plummeted.
‘It’s called market research. Clear this up right away, please.’
‘I can’t believe she said “please”!’ Yasmin exclaimed once Irene had clomped back to the help desk. ‘She must really like you!’
Jaxx winked. ‘Everyone does, Yasmin. I’m a very likeable person.’
‘What are you going to do about all this, then?’ Trev asked, once we’d tidied up. ‘Didn’t go too well here, lad.’
Jaxx frowned as he thought about it. ‘I dunno, to be honest. I, like, totally believe in my product and everything. But I suppose the taste could be better.’
‘And the smell,’ Yasmin added. ‘And the colour and texture.’
‘It’s not easy, all this business malarkey, is it?’