Page 56 of Cream & Sugar
Owner, proprietor, barista extraordinaire…
“Yeah, that’s me,” I sigh, scuffing my feet on the gravel.
“Right,” Rory grunts, making no effort to hide his judgment. “I’m Freddie’s big brother. He said you’re taking him to Glasgow?”
“That’s right.”
“How come?”
“Research trip. For work.”
Rory’s eyes narrow, scanning me like a robot which I’m not entirely convinced he isn’t. “And are you paying him for his time?”
The question blindsides me for a second. I wasn’t expecting the third degree.
“We’re off the clock. It’s entirely voluntary,” I explain. Rory glares at me like a police interrogator. I stuff my hands in my pockets and rock awkwardly on the balls of my feet. “Is Freddie here?”
Rory sighs. “Knowing my brother, he’ll have slept in. Go bang on his door, if you want.”
“His…?” I follow the jerk of Rory’s thumb towards the front door. “Inside?”
“Aye.” Rory turns away, pulling out his car keys. “I’m not his errand boy.”
“No, that’s not what I—” I hold my hands up in an attempt to placate this angry, angry man. “I just mean… it’s your house and you don’t know me.”
Rory shrugs. “Are you going to steal anything?”
“No.”
“Then it’s fine. And even if you did, I know where you work.”
I laugh. Then I realise Rory isn’t joking.
“Oh. Right. Got it.”
He climbs into his car, reverses out of the driveway and speeds off up the road, leaving me feeling like I’ve weathered a small hurricane. What a strange guy. He’s the polar opposite of Freddie. Hard to believe they share DNA.
I edge my way up to the front door. Despite Rory’s permission, I feel the need to knock loudly before trying the handle. The door drifts open, beckoning me inside. I look over each shoulder to check there’s no one around who could mistake me for a burglar—no nosy neighbour or passing postman. The street isquiet, nothing but closed curtains and empty pavements. Funnily enough, that doesn’t put me at ease.
Feeling anything but comfortable, I step inside Freddie’s home.
Wow. The house is immaculate. The open-plan kitchen-living area is smartly decorated and full of some impressive tech. A massive TV is mounted on the wall, so big I’m not sure my own little flat would have a wall wide enough to hold it. I spy a brand-new games console housed in the unit underneath it as well as an expensive-looking record player. The kitchen is just as fancy with state-of-the-art appliances integrated right into the counters. To my horror, the only coffee machine in sight is one that uses pods. Oh dear. No wonder Freddie doesn’t like coffee ifthisis what he’s used to. Still, I can’t have a barista who doesn’t appreciate what he’s selling. Hopefully that won’t be a problem after today, if all goes to plan.
A cold gust swoops in behind me and I shut the front door.
All is quiet.
“Hello?” I call into the house.
No answer.
To my right is a corridor with four doors leading off from it. I tiptoe along the hall, passing a pristine master bedroom to the right and a large bathroom on my left. Of the two remaining doors, one looks to be an airing cupboard. That only leaves one.
“Freddie?”
I stand in front of the door and raise my fist to knock when suddenly, it flies open.
Holy shit.
