Page 23 of Cream & Sugar

As lunchtime approaches, I find myself stealing fewer glances at Freddie and more at the clock. The cardinal sin of working in hospitality: nothing makes time go slower than watching the seconds crawl by, but I’m so ready for my bed I can’t help it.

Customers trickle in steadily and Freddie has a couple more goes on the coffee machine, but his creations are hit and miss. Mainly misses.

“It takes practice,” I reassure him, stifling a yawn as he re-makes a cappuccino for the third time.

“You’re telling me!” His brow knits with concentration as he tries to get the milk right.

The door jingles and I look around to see a familiar face.

Anna, my only surviving original staff member, bustles her way inside, brushing snow from her blonde bob. Relief floods through me. Her arrival means it’s home time.

“Hi!” Anna removes her coat, folding it over one arm as she approaches the counter. “Gosh, you look terrible!”

I give her a weak smile as my ego comes crashing back down. “Thanks.”

Anna’s gaze flicks behind me. “Who’s this?”

“Oh,” I gesture towards Freddie, “this is—”

“Shit!” Freddie yanks his hand away from the jet of steam billowing out of the milk wand. He fumbles with the knob on the side of the machine and the steam fizzles to a stop. With a grimace, he turns to us. “Sorry, hot!”

“This is Freddie, our new barista,” I say, brushing over the outburst.

“I’m Anna,” she holds out her hand and Freddie leans over to shake it, wincing as he does. I see a red mark already forming on his thumb. “You should run that under some cold water,” Anna suggests.

Freddie nods, side-stepping to the sink and sticking the burn under the cold tap. “Twisted it the wrong way,” he explains, sheepishly.

“Happens to the best of us.” Anna waggles her hand, showing off an array of silvery burn scars. “I should know!”

She’s not wrong. I count my blessings every day I have Anna working for me. Before having her son, Anna worked in cruise ship cafés for the best part of a decade, meaning she barely needed any training at all. It’s sheer luck that she ended up in West Marbank. Her only drawback is the fact she’s a single mum and her shift patterns are at the mercy of school hours and childcare, but she can churn out perfect coffee almost as fast as me, so I’ll suffer that burden as long as she’s willing to work here.

Anna looks around. “I thought Kyle was supposed to be in?”

“Kyle is no more,” I say.

For a second, she looks horrified.

“He’s not dead!” I clarify, even though to me, he’s as good as. “He got an acting job.”

“Oh,” she sighs with relief. “When did this happen?”

“Yesterday,” I’m fighting to keep my tone professional for Freddie’s sake.

“What, he just didn’t show up?” A fire ignites behind Anna’s eyes, her Czech accent thickening like it does when she’s annoyed. “I’m going to kill that little prick!”

“Good,” I lower my voice beneath the sound of the tap. “Just make sure you don’t get caught. I can’t lose any more staff.”

Freddie chuckles, but Anna scowls.

“So you worked all of yesterday on your own?” she asks, hands on her hips. I nod, feeling like I’m being told off by a stern teacher. Anna tuts. “You should have called me, I could have covered for you!”

“You have Ethan—” I start to explain, but she cuts meoff.

“You haven’t taken a day off since we opened! You’re going to get sick if you carry on like this!”

I’m keenly aware Freddie is listening.

“That’s why we have Freddie here,” I announce, trying to shift the focus away from me. “How did you find your first shift?”