Page 72 of When We Were Young

‘Magda,’ says Dylan. ‘Why don’t you show Emily how to make a decent coffee first?’

I spend the next hour making dozens of cups of terrible coffee. Magda is patient and encouraging, giving gentle instructions in her strong Eastern European accent. By the time I graduate to mediocre coffee, I’m a little wired from all the tasting.

‘How long have you worked here?’ I ask while waiting for the next espresso to pour.

‘Almost four years,’ she says. ‘I love it, the customers are so friendly.’

I spot the notebook she’s left open on the counter; a loose sketch of the two mums sitting in the play area fills the spread. ‘Your drawing is lovely,’ I tell her.

She blushes and thanks me but closes the notebook.

A little later Dylan samples one of my cappuccinos and manages not to pull a face. Then he talks Magda and me through all the ins and outs of running the café while he’s away in Thailand. He makes the whole thing sound easy.

After we’ve closed, I stack the chairs onto the tables and Magda mops the floor.

‘So, what did you think?’ asks Dylan.

I’ve taken in so much information, my head’s pounding, but this day was far better than cleaning up vomit and being bossed around by Mrs T. ‘It was great,’ I tell him truthfully.

‘Well, you don’t have to decide now,’ he says. ‘Why don’t you sleep on it at least?’

I walk home tired but buzzing. I won’t need to sleep on it.

The first two weeks Dylan was in and out of the café, but this week Magda and I have been running the place on our own. He’s at the end of the phone should we need him, but we haven’t yet. And despite getting up at six every morning and being exhausted every night, I love it. The regulars have been very friendly, and I’m slowly learning everyone’s names.

I’m wiping down a table when Scott’s car pulls up across the street. He and Liv jump out and dart across the road with alarming disregard for the traffic.

‘What are you two doing here?’ I ask, hugging Liv.

Liv shrugs. ‘Dad wanted to come.’

Scott rolls his eyes. ‘I was giving her a lift to the station, and we thought it would be nice to pop in and see you.’

Liv works at the music magazine on Saturdays until her exams finish in a few weeks when she’ll work there over the summer. They sit at the closest table while I go behind the counter to prepare their drinks.

‘What are you working on at the magazine today?’ I ask.

‘Social media planning, I expect,’ she says.

She pulls out her phone and starts tapping and scrolling.

I make a face at Scott, and he chuckles.

‘You don’t have a social media presence at all,’ Liv says.

‘Me?’ I ask.

‘No, Boho – the café,’ she says like I’m a complete idiot.

‘Oh? Should we?’

‘Well yeah, if you want to keep in touch with your customers and get new ones.’

‘Liv’s a social media expert now,’ says Scott.

‘Oh my God, your website’shideous!’ she cries.

‘Is it?’