Page 48 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘Yes. Thank you.’

She leaves our table and I breathe a sigh of relief.

‘Is your tummy not rumbly no more?’ Ellie asks, steadying her little legs so she can lean closer to me.

‘Not any more, sweetheart.’

I’m grateful for the radio playing in the background, loud enough to hide my stomach grumbling.

Ellie sings along to Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift, making up her own words, and soon the food arrives.

‘Yummy.’ Ellie smiles and the smell of her snow-white eggs with gooey golden centres on lightly toasted bread makes my mouth water.

The waitress places a takeaway cup with steam swirling out the top in front of me and for a moment I panic that she misunderstood. I really can’t afford a coffee.

‘Someone ordered a black coffee and left without it,’ she says, pulling her shoulders towards her ears.

‘Oh. Eh.’ I cringe, and tears of embarrassment swell in the corners of my eyes. ‘Thanks, but I’m okay. I really need to cut down on my caffeine.’

She looks at me knowingly and says, ‘It’s already been paid for. And it’s just going to go to waste if…’

I don’t have a reply. The steam is tantalising and I can almost taste the rich, aromatic beans. I force myself to meet her pitying gaze.

‘Look,’ she says, and I think she feels almost as awkward as I do. ‘I’ll leave it here. And, sure, just put it in the bin if you don’t want it. Yeah?’

‘Okay. Thanks,’ I mouth, not quite able to push the words out in case my tears start to fall.

Ellie gobbles her breakfast in record time. And the coffee fills me with warmth.

I pay at the counter and I take the change.

‘Have a good day,’ the waitress calls after us and I wonder if she knows how much I would love to leave that change as a tip, if only I could.

With a full tummy, Ellie skips all the way to the crèche.

‘Mor-ning,’ Alannah chirps as she greets us at the door of the crèche. Her Christmas jumper with a brick chimney and a pair of Santa legs stuck upside down makes Ellie laugh.

‘Oh, you like it,’ Alannah says, pressing a button on her sleeve that makes the chimney light up. Ellie squeals with joy and claps. ‘It’s Christmas jumper day next Friday,’ Alannah continues.

‘What? No? I thought that was last week?’ I squeak.

‘It was supposed to be. But so many of the kids had that horrible vomiting bug and missed it. So we rescheduled. Cos it’s a fundraiser, we really want the numbers up, you know?’

‘Oh, I know.’

Alannah crouches to come down to my daughter’s height. ‘I can’t wait to see yours, Ellie. I bet it’s something special.’

I swallow a lump as Alannah stands back up to smile at me. I can practically see the euro signs in her dark brown eyes.

‘Well, in you go,’ Alannah says, placing her hand on Ellie’s back, encouraging her forward. ‘The boys and girls are making a Santa jigsaw. You should go help them. I’ll be in in a minute. I just want a quick word with your mammy.’

Ellie looks back at me and I smile. ‘Go on, chickpea. I’ll see you later.’

Ellie hugs my leg, before giving me a quick wave and running off to join her friends behind the glass wall that has been hand-painted for Christmas. Reindeer and holly and stars stare at me in festive reds and golds.

‘Getting the shopping done early,’ Alannah says, pointing to the Tesco bags in my hands.

‘Something like that,’ I say, cringing and praying she doesn’t ask what I bought.

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