by Austin, Lucy
‘Kate, am I okay to take a bathroom break? The prep is done.’ He winks at me and suddenly I’m on board.
‘Yes of course you can.’ I smile at him. ‘Take a seat Mabel, won’t be long. My waitress will bring your order over. I’ve got a few things to oversee.’
Paula takes over Mabel’s coffee and muffin to her and she meekly thanks her, which is probably the most subservient thing I’ve ever seen her do. I then pretend to look super busy for a good fifteen minutes behind the counter, until finally, she stands up to leave, just as PJ decides to start lobbing bits of banana at her feet. Thatta boy.
‘Before I left, Barbara used to ask after you, you know,’ she volunteers. ‘I think she missed your chaos. I was too much of a finely tuned perfect engine.’
‘That’s one way of describing you Mabel,’ I say, and do a massive grin. And with that she just walks out without saying goodbye, which is fine by me. Goodbye Mabel.
‘Thank you so much,’ I say to Paolo.
‘For what?’ he looks at me puzzled.
‘For pretending that I was your boss?’
He shovels a load of oily coffee beans from the huge metallic bin into the coffee grinder, before getting his coat.
‘Look, even if you can’t load the dishwasher properly, or make coffee exactly the way I do, we look after each other round here. That girl is what we call in Italian – how do you say it – a stronza.’ I smile at Paolo and he heads out of the door.
Taking the lid off, I stare down into the coffee bin crammed full of aroma and wonderful beans and dig my hands right in it, before pulling them out watching the oil glisten on my fingers. It reminds me of when I watched the Nescafé ads as a kid. I always wanted to be able to shake a handful of coffee beans and now I get to.
Hilarious Sam just leans on the counter daydreaming, prodded every now and again by me to go into the kitchen and fulfil a food order.
‘Can I ask what is up with you today?’ I say as we slowly pack up for the day, always the longest process in the entire world with a boss like ours, as every surface, every floor mat, and every inch of the counter has to be spick and span.
‘Nothing much,’ she shrugs but I’m not convinced.
‘Sam, you are always smiling. I’ve been wanting to ask for ages, how do you do it?’
There is a slight pause. ‘Well, to be honest, a lot of the time my life completely sucks, but I like working here,’ she explains, helping herself to a croissant sample. ‘Oh and…’ she says through a mouthful. ‘I just found out that my cheating ex-boyfriend has caught Chlamydia. No greater karma than an STD.’ Her smile slightly wavers as though running out of battery, then restores itself to its full glory. Wow, this girl might be a bit more complex after all. We’ve just got to work on that laugh.
Sam then brings out a parcel from under the counter. ‘I have something for you,’ she says excitedly. ‘Your friend dropped this off when you were chatting to that thick-set girl with the VPL.’ I open up the box and it’s a card, the same card that I bought on the Westerner 4 all those years ago with big fancy font scrawled onto the front.
‘There may be many moments like these, but this one is ours.’
CHAPTER 36 - SAY YES
For someone with such grand plans, I have one big problem, namely how to distract a bride-to-be when she has arrived an hour early and expects everyone to vacate a regular café for her engagement party. No amount of booze can disguise that I’ve still only got about five bottles in the actual fridge and that the Globe needs to be actually empty to house the fifty people that have been invited. Paolo has been okay about the party, as has Liv who is so besotted with my brother, she’d say yes to a twelve-hour rave. The last time I checked, it was normal to actually offer to pay the venue, but it turns out Dave is not only gloomy but a little on the tight side so Linda has done the honours. In addition to Linda’s rather tiny engagement ring, from the amount of boxed wine stashed out the back, unless she gets to work on Dave, we’ll be having country vegetable soup for a starter at the wedding breakfast. Still, she’s got two years. A lot could happen between now and then.
Liv is finally going to Canada to introduce Rory to her parents, leaving me under the charge of Paolo. I know she’ll come back but I am still paranoid that my lovely friend, my partner in crime – and now my boss – is visiting her homeland. I’ve already seen the luggage she plans on taking.
‘Do you really need that for the flight?’ I asked her, staring at the moulded plastic seat that resembled a small potty. ‘Surely he’ll just sit on your knee?’
She just rolled her eyes. ‘You know nothing my friend. I will need a toilet break on an eleven-hour flight Kate. And besides, Dan might be asleep.’ Yes, my brother has only also gone and booked himself a ticket too. Perhaps neither of them will come back and will become one of those couples that do organised tours around Canada. Westerner 5 anyone?
With the party finally underway, I’m surveying the scene. Judging by the assortment of guests piling into the café, it would seem that ‘small and intimate’ is actually looking more ‘large and random’. Call me crazy, but I’m sensing that Scary Linda has invited everyone and anyone she ever booked a flight for, but what do I know? Perhaps Dave is a secret social animal who likes a house full, but looking at his miserable put-upon face, I’m thinking this is a man who would prefer to be strung up by his short and curlies over a crocodile-infested pool than have to engage in small talk. Poor Dave.
Trays of fabulous hors d’oeuvres are now being passed around the guests and devoured in enthusiasm. ‘My canapés are not bad eh,’ says Sam proudly, coming out of the kitchen, looking down at the pretty displays of mini Yorkshire puddings and sausages, pancetta wrapped scallops, and a checkerboard made of roe, most of which – I daren’t tell her – were man-handled by PJ a little earlier on.
I remind myself that I must mingle but I simply cannot be arsed, what with all those balloons I had to blow up. I think the older I get, the more I realise there is no prize for being the perfect mingler, for working so hard to win someone’s affection who more often than not, you are unlikely to ever see again – that or you find out that they never actually bothered to tell your mutual friend how lovely you were.
Wayne is still a permanent fixture in the flat but since we ironed out our differences (code for splitting things three ways) things have been better. He and Claire have settled into what can only be described as a blissful groove and he seems in his element. Saying that, he’s ignored her advice and has insisted on wearing an ill-advised pair of white linen trousers and opened toed sandals that make him look like he’s just come off the set of Miami Vice. From the amount of people he’s chatting to, I suspect my theory about the guest list being made up of travel agency clients is right. They keep on arriving and are knocking back the fizz like there’s no tomorrow.
Having been chatting to an amiable Paula who is trying to restrain her son from attacking the food, Stan walks over to me. ‘We have to talk,’ he whispers and pulls me across the room as though to go outside.
‘No Stan,’ I say. ‘I have to stay at the party. PJ is fingering the canapés, Dave looks so depressed he might drink himself to oblivion and Linda is boring the pants off everyone showing them her love book.’ I then turn to include Dan in on our conversation.
‘Stan my man! How you getting on?’ Dan says, filling up Stan’s glass of wine.
‘I didn’t recognise you without your Bat Suit on mate,’ Stan says grinning. ‘How you feeling without all your superpowers?’
Dan looks over Stan’s shoulder at Liv. ‘Oh I got some superpowers alright,’ he says, just as she comes over to us, with Rory on her back in a baby carrier, holding a flaky cheese straw precariously over her head.
‘What did I miss?’ asks Liv, putting her arm through Dan’s.
‘Off to Canada I hear?’ Stan says to them.
‘I’m going with her just to make sure she comes back,’ he says and I don’t doubt that for a minute. Seeing
my brother in love makes me flip with happiness and forgive every single one of those ‘all you can eat’ salad bars he’s subjected me to. Well, almost all of them.
‘Just for the record though, I’m not being a matron of honour’, I say, to which Liv shrieks with laughter.
‘No, don’t worry babe. I’ll put you in charge of the guest book. It’s a pivotal role you know.’
As Rory gets busy rubbing the cheese straw into his mother’s hair, Liv squeezes my arm. ‘You go mingle, I got everything covered here,’ she enlarges her eyes, slightly nodding in the direction of Stan who has now wandered out to the decking. Subtle.
‘One minute he was here, the next he’s gone,’ I say, looking after Stan as Dan sees how many kettle chips he can stuff into his mouth.
‘Ten crisps,’ he mumbles and Liv looks at him with amusement. Finally, Dan finishes his mouthful. ‘What’s your problem sis? Stan is so obviously into you. I could see it on that American holiday.’
I clear my throat awkwardly and concentrate on brushing some flaky pastry off Liv’s shoulders.
‘For the record, he hasn’t always been. You always do this Dan. Just because Stan and I are both single at the same time, I’m not going to be the consolation prize,’ I say, only for Liv and Dan to exchange a puzzled look.
‘Well err, Katie Kate, I know for a fact that isn’t true,’ interjects Liv.
Dan gently smacks his own forehead. ‘God, you’re not the sharpest tool in the box are you sis?’
I ignore them both and decide to go into practical mode with a dustpan and brush to distract myself. Just as I’m thinking that perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea as flaky pastry keeps on falling on the floor like a winter wonderland, a shadow looms over me.
‘Getting down in the dirt huh Kate.’ I stand up and brush myself down, grinning at Stan.
‘Yup, you know me, like the shitty jobs.’ The remnants of the sausage rolls are now piled high in the dustpan.
‘Seriously though, sweeping up crap aside, you do seem in your element,’ says Stan and puts his hand on the small of my back, making me shiver.
From my oldest friend, that is the biggest compliment as he’s right. When I first started helping out in this place I had forgotten that simply by getting on with the business of watching other people live out their lives, their drama and giving them good food and drink, it changes the way you think about everything. Why I forgot this mindset between Australia and now, I shall never fully know. I can only put it down to being blind sided by cocky men who liked the sound of their own voice.
We stand there in companionable silence as Dave glumly walks over and helps himself to a canapé before being dragged off by Linda for more mingling.
‘I hear Anna is moving to LA to try out for more parts,’ I say, trying to sound casual.
‘Yeah, I heard that too,’ he answers in a genuinely disinterested way.
‘With Joe,’ I add, without feeling a thing. The truth it turns out is that all along, Anna knew Joe better than I ever did. Only now I realise, it’s a match made in heaven.
‘Oh that’s nice,’ Stan replies and at that point, I decide now will be a good time to empty the contents of my dustpan into the bin. ‘You want to know something Kate,’ he shouts after me and I turn around. ‘I finished it with Anna because of you.’
Even though I now have the opportunity at this very moment to live out one of those perfect YouTube endings, I don’t allow myself – not yet. I still need a question answered. ‘Stan, you had a year to do something about it with Anna,’ I say, walking towards him. ‘A year! Instead, you completely let our friendship go downhill. And now suddenly you say you want to be with me,’ I hold the dustpan between us as though it were a force field. ‘Remember California? As soon as I establish expectations, you’ll walk away.’
By way of response Stan takes the dustpan from me with all its contents, and chucks it over his shoulder, which at that precise moment seems as romantic as putting a cloak down over a puddle. Taking hold of my hand, he walks me over to the counter away from the crowd, where over a tray of tired looking canapés he quietly pledges his intentions.
‘Kate, I promise you I won’t.’ Suddenly overcome with nervousness, I help myself to a cheese straw on the counter, offering him one too by way of a displacement activity. ‘These days, all I ever do is think about you,’ he says. ‘And it’s not because you’re second best. It’s that I realise that you are actually the only person I can be around all the time, you know, with all the shit that comes from being in a relationship. I couldn’t stay with Anna because…’ a) she makes bad trifles b) she hangs up first on the phone or c) she shags other people’s boyfriends? ‘She’s just not you,’ he says, before leaning across the bruschetta to kiss me.
As the room starts spinning, I realise I’ve been waiting for this conversation and this kiss for a very long time. Stan’s been there every step of the way, in my personal aspirations, in my self-sufficiency, in the mistakes I’ve made. It turns out that I really am stupidly, ridiculously, heads over heels in love with my friend. As we break away from what is becoming a rather heated display of PDA of the Wayne and Claire kind, there is an unpleasant screeching noise of a microphone.
Scary Linda stands up, clinking her glass to get the attention of the crowd. ‘Can I just make an impromptu speech?’ she slurs. ‘Dave I love you!’
It then becomes fairly clear that Linda’s drank more than her body weight in booze and hasn’t eaten enough of these canapés. With Dave’s expression now looking more animated and I’d say, edging towards the mortified scale of the spectrum, Stan lets go of my hand, walks over and grabs the microphone off Linda.
‘Ladies and gentlemen! The chief bridesmaid’ he says, before handing over to an unsuspecting Claire who was minding her own business, admiring her own long nails encrusted with crown jewels – hardly conducive to holding a microphone. Flicking her new blonde extensions, Claire waits for the applause to subside, looking down at Wayne who mouths something to her.
‘I’ve known Linda for a long time, since school.’ Claire clears her throat nervously. ‘In that time I’ve done a lot of beauty treatments for her. I have also listened to some terrible dating stories and witnessed many a bad hair day.’ Just where is she going with this, I have no idea but Linda is starting to sober up. ‘What I love about her though is that Linda has been determined in everything she does, I mean when it came to meeting Dave, she stalked the man!’ This prompts tinkles of laughter from around the room, with the exception of the bride-to-be who now has a thunderous expression on her face. ‘Linda also has taught me a few things. That black and navy blue does not go together. That you mustn’t ever use nail scissors to trim a facial moustache.’ Linda audibly groans. ‘But most importantly,’ Claire says quickly. ‘She’s taught me that you can’t make a new old friend. Even if they sometimes like, seriously annoy you.’ As the crowd claps, she looks directly over and catches my eye. I respond with a smile – just a small one, mind.
As the guests go back to knocking back the booze and scattering cheese straws all over that floor, Stan walks back over to me like a man on a mission and takes my hand. ‘So what do you say, we shall just forget everything that’s gone before and see what happens,’ he ventures and leans in towards me.
‘Oh okay then,’ I say grinning and kiss him right back. Just like they do in Dallas.
EPILOGUE - IN THE END
‘Kate. Why are you singing to yourself? It’s not particularly pleasant,’ groans Paolo, removing PJ off the counter who’s halfway through licking each biscuit in the jar.
Oblivious to how busy it is in the café, I’m in my own bubble. In fact, I’m pretty sure I made someone a coffee when they wanted a tea and a vegetarian panini with ham in it but who cares – I am just so darn happy. I didn’t know what being in my element meant until now. I know I belong doing this, no wait – I am great at doing this. In this space, my brain and body are sparking in co-ordination and speed. I’m turning
around orders furiously, while keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the café. I’m loving every second.
There is a man at table seven moaning that he doesn’t have a laptop charger despite having been here for the best part of the day. There are people bitching about work on their phones, others sniggering about something or someone. There are those earnest creative types who insist on having business meetings in this casual environment yet still feel compelled to shush other people around them. There’s a man sitting by himself, obsessively checking his mobile yet not picking it up when it rings. There’s a crowd of Liv’s yummy mummies who have blocked the doorway with their ridiculous-sized prams, making baby-centric ever-so-slightly competitive chitchat. There’s a woman playing devil’s advocate, clearly irritating her friend who’s asking the advice.
And then there is my boyfriend of eleven months and twenty-eight days, sitting on the table by the window and grinning at me, beckoning me to go over.
‘I can’t be long, I have work to do.’ I say to Stan.
‘You call that work?’ he grins, pulling me towards him, reminding me why it’s never a good idea to mix work with pleasure.
Finally, I have answered the call to go in a direction and see where it takes me. Okay, it took ten thousand miles, old friendships, bad kisses, shaggy dog stories, cafés and a rather average typing speed to realise this. But the truth is that I am the sum of all my parts. And if I can move forward without it having to be perfect, I might just end up where I’m supposed to be – enjoying my life with a rather large cappuccino in hand.
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