‘Be lovely, then. Make him realise what he’s missing.’
I mutter, ‘Fuckfuckfuck’ again and then turn and go out into the café, pad poised in hand. This is excruciatingly painful. I glide over to the table and pin on my most friendly smile. ‘Now, what can I get for you?’
They reel off their order and I jot it down with shaky fingers. Then I hurry it back to the kitchen for Charlie to make up as I’m in total bits and can’t concentrate.
Chapter One Hundred and One
I stand over Charlie while she prepares their order so that she gets it absolutely right. Which kind of annoys her.
She waves her knife at me. ‘Sure you don’t want to do this yourself?’
‘No, no, no. I just need to know it’s perfect.’
She tuts at me, but doesn’t stab me, so she can’t be too cross. I watch her butter the bread, make sure the fillings are exactly right. I don’t want Joe and the kids to have found me in this café and then for the experience to come up wanting, do I? I don’t. Trust me on that.
They’re laughing together at the table when I deliver their sandwiches and jacket potatoes. I try not to make too much eye contact with Joe. I’ve found that it’s never a good idea to slaver all over your customers. However, he is looking particularly handsome today. I think I might have mentioned that already. Yet he can’t have got any more gorgeous in just a few months, can he?
Scuttling back to the counter, I try to make myself look busy while watching them all having a lovely time together. They’re a nice family and it would have been great to have been a part of that, but it wasn’t to be. I wonder if Gina is still with her new man. I’m guessing as she’s not here with them that perhaps she isn’t back at home again. Or maybe that’s blind hope. Was Joe wearing a wedding ring? I didn’t think to look.
Charlie comes and leans on the counter next to me. ‘Stop staring.’
‘I’m not staring.’
‘Yeah? And I’m not fat and nearly forty.’
‘Am I staring?’ I straighten up.
‘Yes, you’ve gone all googly-eyed and wistful.’
I make myself avert my eyes and lower my voice. ‘I think he might well be The One That Got Away.’
‘Really?’
I nod.
‘Boo,’ Charlie says. ‘That sucks.’
‘Big time.’ I don’t think that Charlie fully grasps the gravity of my situation. I feel that I might wander the earth for the rest of my days and never find another man like Joe.
She puts her arm round me and squeezes. ‘Do you want some cake to salve your broken heart?’
‘Nah. I’m good. We could drown my sorrows in wine later though.’
‘Sounds like a plan. Paul’s knocking together some Chinese food for dinner. We’ve got a film downloaded ready to roll. Can’t remember what. Want to come over?’
‘Please.’ Nice Paul cooks too. Charlie’s certainly hit the jackpot there.
Surreptitiously, we watch Joe for a bit longer. Then Charlie purses her lips and whispers, ‘He does keep looking over here at you, though.’
‘Does he?’ That makes me brighten up, before I think, ‘Maybe he simply wants more tea or something and is trying to catch my eye.’ This is a café and I am a waitress, after all. I nudge her in the ribs. ‘You go and check.’
‘Don’t make me do your dirty work. You should go.’
‘I can’t,’ I say. ‘My poor troubled heart couldn’t stand it.’
‘Drama queen,’ she mutters. Nevertheless, Charlie goes over to them and chats as she clears the plates.
She breezes past me into the kitchen. ‘No more drinks. But they’re coming to get some cake. Can you cope with that?’
‘No!’ I hiss. Yet before I can dive into the kitchen to escape, the three of them troop up to the counter where our dazzling range of cakes are displayed.
Our star cakes today include a lemon meringue pie with a white topping that looks like a fluffy duvet, our usual carrot cake that’s the talk of the town, a four-layered, rainbow-speckled sponge, layered with cream and blueberry jam and, my own personal favourite, lemon drizzle.
‘The lemon drizzle is very good,’ I tell them in a voice that comes out too high and makes me sound like a cartoon character.
‘Sounds excellent,’ Joe says and, it might be my imagination, but his smile seems particularly warm. Could be nothing more than wishful thinking.
The kids choose their cakes. The speckled sponge for Daisy and lemon drizzle for Tom. I make sure that they get extra big slices. Then I serve Joe.
‘I’ll have lemon drizzle too.’
‘A fine choice, sir.’ May as well try to keep it light.
While I busy myself fussing with the plates and napkins, Joe lowers his voice and, speaking in confidential tones, asks, ‘How have you been?’
‘OK,’ I tell him. This is hardly the time and place to fill him in on the intervening months. Then, I can’t help myself and blurt out, ‘I went to Paris to see Take That in concert and didn’t come back for two months.’
He looks taken aback, as well he might be. ‘With that guy?’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Yes. Sort of.’ I’m gabbling. I take a deep breath and try to organise my thoughts. ‘We went out there together but ended up going our separate ways the next day.’ I smile at Joe. ‘It’s a long story, best told over a bottle of wine.’
‘Ah.’
‘I did have a lovely time in Paris, though. I took in all the sights and fell in love with the place.’
‘I’ve never been,’ he admits.
‘You should. It’s wonderful.’ I concentrate on not hacking the cake to pieces, then continue, ‘I’m glad I stayed. Then I ran out of money and came home. I couldn’t go back to the pub, so I ended up here.’ I hand over the extra large slice of lemon drizzle. ‘It’s a really nice place to work. Plus Charlie came too, which was a big bonus. I’m really happy here.’ I want to emphasise that. ‘And you?’
‘Good,’ he says. ‘All good. The kids have settled down again after Gina … well. You know the rest.’
I think I do, but I can never be sure. ‘She’s still with her new man?’
‘No. That didn’t work out either,’ he says. ‘Another long story.’
Which, at least, gives us both a laugh.
‘It sounds as if we’ve both got long stories to tell each other,’ I venture.
‘Yeah. Seems that way.’ He clings on to his cake, awkwardly. ‘She’s got a place on her own now in that big, new estate, Newton Leys. A little terraced house. Bit of a shoebox, really. She seems happy enough though and we’re trying to keep it amicable for the kids. She sees them a lot more now, which is good for them and it means that I’ve actually got a bit of time on my hands.’
‘You’re still diving?’
‘I haven’t been for ages,’ he admits. ‘I’m hoping to get back to it. We’ve got a dive outing planned for next weekend and I want to make that. Do you think you’ll ever give it another go?’
‘Nah. I’m not a natural diver. I think I might try the glamorous world of flower arranging next. That’s more my level.’