Page 1

CHAPTER 1

Gemma reached across the coffee machine for the large brown mug stacked at the back. It wasn’t like any of the other cups they served drinks in at the Waterfront Cafe. They had a lot of different cups, from tall glass-handled ones for hot chocolates and lattes to the smaller, rounded cups they used for cappuccinos. And, of course, there were the tiny espresso cups and the various-sized takeaway ones, too. But at that moment, she ignored all of those and reached for the large brown speckled mug with the extra thick handles because that was the mug Mr Jordan liked to have his drink in. In fact, he struggled to hold on to the smaller ones. At the Waterfront Cafe, it was important that the customers felt as comfortable as possible, and this mug made that happen for Mr Jordan.

“Don’t forget to add a splash of cold water to the top, will you, Gemma, love?” Mr Jordan said as he rummaged in his pockets.

“Did I forget yesterday?” Gemma asked, throwing him a look. “Or the day before that? In fact, have I ever forgotten your splash of cold water?”

“I’m just reminding you,” he said with a grin that further creased his already wrinkled skin. “One day, you’ll be my age,and you won’t be able to remember whether you put clean pants on.”

“I think that’s more information than I need there,” Gemma said, smiling at the customer.

Mr Jordan had been coming to the Waterfront Cafe longer than Gemma had been working there, and that was saying something because ever since she moved to the waterfront town of Maldon, with its estuary filled with boats and a high street dotted with cute cafes and favourite independent shops, she had worked at the Waterfront Cafe. It had been the reason she had moved. She had assumed the job would just be for a couple of years—some good management experience before she took a role at a bigger establishment, perhaps a restaurant or even a pub. And yet there she was, at thirty-two, having managed the Waterfront Cafe for eight years. She couldn’t imagine ever doing anything differently.

“You all right there, Mr Jordan?” Gemma asked, looking at the handful of coins he had fished out of his pocket. “Do you want me to help you count them out?”

“That would be lovely, thank you. You know, my eyesight’s not as good as it used to be.”

“Don’t worry, just put it on the counter. I’ll count it out for you.”

Following her request, Mr Jordan tipped the contents onto the counter, causing Gemma’s chest to tighten a little. Mr Jordan had always paid in cash. She wasn’t even sure he had any form of debit or credit card, but his pension was obviously running thin. In front of Gemma lay a vast array of one and two-pence pieces, with a few twenties and one five in the mix. Nowhere near the £2.30 they charged for a flat white.

“Is there enough, dear?” Mr Jordan asked, his face once again crinkling, although this time with worry rather thanlaughter. “Let me have a look here. I’m sure I have a little bit more.”

He dug into his pocket again, this time pulling out a crumpled tissue and a couple of paper receipts, but no more money.

“Don’t worry, let me count it out.”

Gemma began scooping the coins into her hand. A moment later, she looked up at Mr Jordan and beamed.

“What do you know? You have five pence more than you need.”

“I do?”

“You do.” Gemma smiled and handed him back a five-pence piece. “Why don’t you go take a seat? I’ll bring the drink over to you.”

With his smile so broad his eyes almost disappeared entirely, Mr Jordan pressed his weight through his walking stick and hobbled over to his table. Meanwhile, Gemma dropped ninety-three pence into the till. It wasn’t even half of what the coffee actually cost, but she could make up the difference with her tips. Besides, he always paid the right amount when he could. She picked up his coffee, ready to take it to his table, when her eyes fell on the warm scones fresh out of the oven. One looked a little smaller than the others. She hated charging customers for things that were different sizes. It just didn’t seem fair.

Without even questioning herself, she picked the smaller one up, put it onto a plate, and carried it over to Mr Jordan’s table with his coffee.

“Thought you might like a little bit of breakfast,” she said, smiling as she placed it on the table in front of him.

“You really are a gem, you know that?” Mr Jordan said, looking up at her. “I think your parents did well picking that name for you. Now, when are you going to find a nice young man and settle down, hey?”

Gemma shook her head and laughed. “I don’t need a young man to be happy,” she said, turning away and shaking her head.

“You know, if I was twenty years younger, I’d ask you to marry me myself.”

“Twenty? Try fifty.” She laughed.

“Well, now, that’s just mean.”

With Mr Jordan chuckling away, Gemma was heading back to the till when Sophie walked in through the front door. She headed straight behind the counter, grabbed her apron, then turned to face Gemma head-on.

“If you can’t tell me today,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Then I’m going to scream.”

CHAPTER 2

Sophie had worked in the Waterfront Cafe with Gemma for years, and along with George in the kitchen, she was part of Gemma’s core team. Sophie was one of those people who wore their heart on their sleeve, and while Gemma adored that about her, it had sometimes made working with her slightly difficult. Particularly when she was going through one of her messy breakups. Such events occurred because of some less-than-pleasant douchebag taking complete advantage of Sophie’s good nature, all while Sophie went above and beyond to make the relationship work. Thankfully, those days were past them now, as Sophie was finally settled in a loving relationship with Graham, another one of their Lonely Hearts Book Club members.