Page 67 of A Season in the Snow
The woman took it and looked surprised, then pleased. ‘I have no money for this,’ she said in a strong accent, sounding apologetic.
‘No, no, you can keep it, if you want it.’
The woman looked confused so Alice tried to clarify across the language barrier. ‘You looked happy. For you.’
‘I take?’
‘Yes.’
The woman wrapped the drawing carefully in a napkin and tucked it inside her ski jacket. ‘Thank you. Thank you very much.’
Alice smiled and the music inside Café LIV changed to Nina Simone singing ‘Here Comes the Sun’. The piano tinkles accented the tinkle of teaspoons against coffee cups and Nina’s sweet voice twirled like spinning sugar above their heads. Alice let in a little more of the sun. Today she’d made someone happy.
‘Excuse me,’ she asked the waiter when he returned with her coffee. ‘The crafts you sell here in the café – can anyone sign up somewhere to sell their goods?’
‘Are you thinking of selling your drawings?’
‘Maybe not these, they’re so rough. But I could bring in some others to show you?’
‘Sure, bring them by sometime. If they fit with our vibe we can certainly make some room on the shelf for you. In my experience, tourists prefer to buy things that they can either use, like those woollen headbands, or something small and inexpensive they can take home that will remind them of their trip, like our Café LIV mugs.’
‘Small and local, got it. I have some ideas in mind.’
‘You’re the lady with the Berner, aren’t you?’
‘Yes!’ Alice beamed with pride at the mention of her famous Bear.
‘There’s a good subject, right there.’
He left her alone, and she tucked into her plumcake. The cake was sweet and tangy, with a delicate sugary crust and the silkiest cream cheese frosting that dribbled down over the sponge when she stuck her fork in.
Making plans, being out on her own, enjoying the big outdoors again. She was a big step forward from the person she’d been back in London, and she was proud of herself. Alice was climbing her mountains.
