Page 11 of Sleep

“Parking is a bitch,” they said. “Then I have to pay the congestion charge and ULEZ fees, and I need to start taking the train, but even that is draining my meagre funds.” They rolled their eyes, and I cringed at the fact that I had a personal driver on call that would take me anywhere I wanted within minutes. Our lives were wildly different. Yet here I was, basking in the attention from a human being who…

I cleared my throat, and Mabel jumped, like they suddenly realised they’d overstayed their welcome.

“Mr Templar, apologies, I will leave you to ponder the menu. Or would you prefer me to surprise you again? Our chef has some incredible creations in mind—he’s curated a simple menu with your name on it. One that might just be what your doctor ordered.”

They smiled sweetly, and I wanted to cry, beg, plead for them to sit down again and talk to me, let me feel normal for a change. I had things I wanted to tell them, which was insane because they were a stranger and nobody in their right mind wanted to hear my inner thoughts and insane ramblings. I was crazy even thinking that.

I needed a friend. One that made me happy.

I had no words, so I nodded. Took an awkward sip out of my glass of water. Tried to swallow without spluttering and making an even bigger fool out of myself, because they were still there, watching me.

“Are you okay, Mr Templar?” they asked quietly, concern written all over their face.

“Yes.” I cleared my throat again, no idea what to say.

“Can I ask you a personal question? Please don’t take offence, but I would hate for your requirements to be overlooked.”

“Of course.” I cringed on the inside. What now?

“I notice you keep your eyes on my mouth during our conversations. Am I right in assuming you lipread?”

I was, a little flummoxed by that observation. Being called out like that.

“Yes, you are,” I confirmed weakly and tried to smile. “I’m not deaf, though, and I have no special requirements.” That was my usual line when called upon to explain myself where no explanation should be necessary.

“I think I just need to eat,” I said. And a way out of this awkward conversation.

“Then eat you shall.” They nodded, recognising my intent to dismiss them, smiled and then left as once more the air returned to the bleak cold that seemed to surround me lately.

6. Mabel

Being at work was good for me. Well, that’s what I kept telling myself, at the same time as I was running around with a big fake smile plastered on my face, acting as if everything was fine and under control when it clearly, it wasn’t.

I felt like I’d lost my soul, like someone had ripped my blindfold off. I’d once loved everything about this place. Now all I could see was the shoddy décor and the lazy staff, and nothing was in the right place and why on earth had nobody been on top of the cleaning? There was dirty cutlery mixed into the fresh stuff, and the dust on the service counter was giving me palpitations.

So I reprimanded my staff. Just a little. In that calm voice I used when I was trying to teach as well as discipline, which was clearly not working for the two children who were supposed to be my team today. Kurt was nowhere to be found, which meant I’d probably sent him for a break and forgotten about it. Tabitha was covering in the kitchen since they were once again dangerously understaffed, and I was supposed to run her section as well as manage Kurt’s. The two girls stared at me gormlessly as I gave them some kind of unhinged lecture on the importance of cleanliness and the contamination risk with mixing dirties with cleans. By the time I started yapping about the risk of potential allergen catastrophes, I had clearly lost them.

One of them was chewing gum. I had a small internal breakdown right there and then. I had no idea who had employed these two numpties and…I felt old. Really old.

A few years back, we had been a high-end celebrated eatery. We’d employed only the top of the class, the best applicants with ample experience, the correct attitude, warmth and a will to do a good job. These days, we were scraping the minimum-wage-straight-out-of-school barrel. Thus we had Aimee and Milliee—yes, both spelled with two ‘e’s on their name badges. Was I being judgemental? Oh yes, I was. Despite a background in the gutter, I had standards. More to the point, I had a high-class restaurant to run.

I held out a napkin to Aimee, motioning to her to get rid of the gum. She just stared at me blankly.

“What?” she huffed.

I wanted to cry.

And here was Mark. The man, the myth…the bane of my life. I wanted to give him hell too, but muscle memory or something took over, betraying me, and instead I gave him a hug. Sniffed his hair, for God’s sake. The smell of him was like coming home, other than the aftershave he was wearing, which instantly made me recoil.

He’d drenched himself in Eau de Finley, not for the first time—another reason I should quit my job. Working with the guy who was about to marry my ex-husband would never be a good idea. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and I suddenly had the urge to hide in the toilets, cry my eyes out until I threw up. That or run out into the street and scream like a banshee.

“Take a break, Mabs.” Mark said casually, like I could just walk away from the chaos that would shortly ensue. I could only hope, despite first impressions, that someone had trained up Aimee and Milliee because I’d been here since just after lunch and we were fully booked for dinner.

And somehow, I had completely forgotten about poor Mr Templar, who would still be sitting there with an empty plate in front of him. I needed to go check on him. I needed the loo. I needed…

“Break, Mabs!” Mark repeated as I attempted to swan my way past him, only for him to catch me in a half embrace. “Office. Now.”

I did as I was told. Turned on my heels and locked myself in the office, then sat there like an idiot and tried to figure out what I was doing.

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