Page 98 of The Winter of Second Chances
‘Okay if I go up and make a start?’ asked John, holding up his can of paint.
‘Sure,’ said Annie. ‘You’ve got a key.’
John disappeared through the inner cafe door. A gaggle of drenched walkers scurried in out of the rain and Annie and Gemma set about preparing their orders. The twinkling lights and the smooth sounds of Dean Martin and Bing Crosby crooning out Christmas tunes from the speakers was just the thing to soothe away the shivers. Annie helped Gemma transport the drinks over to the walkers’ table, who made appreciative noises and cupped their hands around the steaming mugs to thaw their cold red fingers.
As Annie made her way back to the counter, the uniformed girl asked, ‘Do you live here?’ She had thick black painted eyebrows that looked too heavy for her delicate features.
‘Yes,’ said Annie.
‘Bit out of the way, isn’t it?’ asked one of the boys. He had acne, and a cheeky smile that Annie was sure made him a hit with the girls at school.
‘It is a bit,’ Annie replied. ‘But I like it that way.’
The boy with the patched elbow looked out of the window. The rain was thick and the condensation formed a mist over the glass, so that the sea looked like an Impressionist painting.
‘I’d like it,’ he said. ‘You must be quite new.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I used to come down here all the time with my grandad, fishing. This place was never open.’
‘Ah, I see. Yes, I am quite new. Do you know Ely?’
‘Yeah, he was my grandad’s mate.’
Annie noted the ‘was’.
‘Did your grandad live in Willow Bay?’ she asked.
‘Nah,’ said the boy. ‘He lived with us, just up the way a bit, near Sandwich. But this was his favourite place to fish.’
‘How are your positivity pebbles coming along?’ she asked.
The girl had painted a large love heart rainbow with the wordsPeace and Lovein the middle. The boy with acne had settled on a rainbow peace symbol.
‘Oh, lovely,’ said Annie. ‘Loving the Pride rainbows.’ The girl grinned up at her.
Annie leaned over the third truant; she noticed the collar of his white shirt was grey. He had painted his pebble green and written in careful calligraphyYou Are Good Enough.
‘Well,’ said Annie, ‘I think this one deserves a hot chocolate on the house.’
The boy looked up at her and smiled shyly.
‘Thanks,’ he said awkwardly.
‘You’re welcome. If I found that pebble on the beach, it would make my day.’
The boy smiled again, his cheeks flushing.
Annie pulled the marshmallow jar off the shelf and began to heat the milk. Gemma stopped folding napkins briefly to give Annie a kiss on the cheek and then resumed her task.
‘What was that for?’ Annie asked.
‘No reason,’ Gemma replied.
Annie delivered the hot chocolate and stopped on her way back to the counter in front of the large picture windows. It was grey outside, as far as the eye could see. There were times, like now, when the rain and mist colluded to shroud the cliffs, and even the promenade, from view, so that it seemed as though Saltwater Nook was alone at the very edge of the world. Annie stared out into the moody nothingness and felt very small and very blessed to be a part of it.
It was a quiet afternoon: one or two takeaways and an elderly couple who spent an hour or so reading newspapers and filling in the crosswords. The truants kept their presence low-key. Gemma was handy in the kitchen and between them they got all the baking done ready for tomorrow. The cafe was filled with the scent of hot gingerbread and spiced biscuits, and Annie revelled in the feeling of being super organised.
