Chapter 3
Stephanie woke early the next day. She rolled over in her big, comfy bed and looked into the smiling eyes of her adorable four-year-old half-brother, laughing back at her from a photo on her bedside table. She felt her heart give a painful squeeze. Toby. She missed him already.
Stephanie’s parents had met in London in the early 1990s, when her mother Marie, had been on what New Zealanders called their OE – Overseas Experience. It was almost a rite of passage for many young Kiwis to come to the UK after finishing school or university and spend two or three years working, partying and travelling. Marie had been no exception, until she met Max at the law firm where they both worked. Following a whirlwind romance, Marie discovered that she was pregnant and returned to New Zealand. Max followed and although they tried to make a go of family life, New Zealand was just too small for the ambitious and driven Max. After three years and much heartache, he returned to London, alone.
It was testament to the obvious affection that Marie and Max had for one another, that they put their differences aside to ensure that Max remained a strong presence in Stephanie’s life. And so, twice a year, she and Marie would return to the UK, to enable Stephanie to spend time with her father. When her mother remarried and Toby was born, Stephanie began travelling on her own.
It was during these visits that she got to know her English cousins, particularly Matt, who was just a year older. Max and Stephanie would often holiday with Matt’s family when she was younger. Matt’s passion was rugby. He captained his school team and had just completed his first year at Oxford, playing for the university. It would be good to have him around. She made a mental note to call him later, but first she had to call Toby.
Checking the time, Stephanie determined that it would be early evening in New Zealand. She could hopefully catch him before his bedtime. Grabbing her iPad, she sat up in bed and put a video call through on Skype.
By late morning, she had her room in order. She sighed and sat down on the small sofa in the corner by the window. The beginnings of a dull headache threatened and she massaged her temples. Fresh air and coffee – that’s what she needed.
“Grandma, I’m just popping into the village – do you need anything?” she offered, passing the sitting room where her grandmother was getting ready for her weekly bridge game.
“No thanks, dear,” she called.
Earlier, her grandmother had pressed a set of car keys into Stephanie’s hand.
“My car is yours to use while you are here, darling. I am not allowed to drive it anymore, more’s the pity. Eyesight, apparently,” she said with a disgusted shake of her head. “Michael’s given it a tune-up, so you should be good to go.”
Stephanie skipped around to the garage and heaved open the wooden doors. An old purple, two-door Fiat 500 was parked waiting for her.
“Yes,” she breathed excitedly, “I’ve always loved this car.” She slipped into the driver’s seat and adjusted the rear view mirror to her height and admired the black leather seats.
She had noticed a new café across the road from the pub, when she was out with Michael the previous day, so that would be her first stop.
Stephanie heard the café before she saw it. Situated on the main street, it looked as though two old buildings had been knocked into one. It had bi-fold windows pushed wide open at the front and rock music blaring from inside. Stephanie smiled to herself – I bet the old locals love that.
She pulled into the car park to the right of the building and walked around to the front entrance.
A loud roar coming down the street took her attention and she watched as the same Combie van she had seen the previous day pulled into the pub car park opposite the coffee shop, smoke billowing in its wake. She suppressed a smirk. I would have thought up and coming rock stars would be able to afford better transport, she thought, amused. James opened the front passenger door and jumping down, ran his hands through his hair, causing his t-shirt to ride up exposing a hint of what looked to be very toned abs.
Stephanie stood rooted to the spot, appreciating the display. James looked around as though sensing he was being watched, and caught her eye, just as someone roughly brushed past her knocking her shoulder. Taken by surprise, Stephanie dropped her car keys and turned to see who had bumped into her. Victoria strutted past, take-out coffee cup in hand. “Close your mouth, he’s way out of your league,” she murmured nastily. Stephanie stooped to pick up her keys and watched as Victoria crossed the road to where James was standing.
Rise above it, Stephanie, she told herself, swallowing the retort which had formed on her lips. Shaking her head at Victoria’s retreating back, she turned and walked through the open double doors, into the café.
The café’s modern interior completely contrasted with the traditional exterior. The walls were painted white and about ten square tables each with four chairs were scattered throughout the space. Along the two side walls were black leather sofas with lower wooden coffee tables and matching small leather armchairs. A long wooden counter ran along the entire back wall with black and chrome bar stools dotted along. The whole room smelled of freshly ground coffee mingled with fresh paint. The exposed wooden floorboards had been polished until they shone.
Stephanie instantly felt transported back home. Now, I just hope the coffee is good. A small drum kit was set up in the front corner by one of the windows on a square red paisley rug. Beside it rested several guitars.
Ooh, thought Stephanie, live music too – this just gets better.
A young guy was working flat out behind the counter making coffee, whilst keeping up a steady banter with his customers – all teenagers.
He had long curly, sandy-coloured hair and when he looked up Stephanie recognised him as The Fury’s bass player. Huh, they’re everywhere, she thought.
She joined the queue at the counter and watched him working for a few minutes. The guy was clearly swamped, but very relaxed and good natured about it, which seemed to rub off on his customers, none of whom appeared to be getting impatient.
He looked up. “Sorry, love, will be with ya soon,” he said.
Stephanie grinned back. “No problem – are you on your own?”
“Yeah – I haven’t long opened and I think I slightly underestimated demand,” he said laughing.
Stephanie stood up from the bar stool that she had propped herself against.
“Can I help? I can clear tables, maybe?” she asked, looking around at the tables, several of which were covered with used cups and plates.
He looked at her for a moment, assessing whether she was serious, and then smiled gratefully.
“That would be fantastic. I just haven’t managed to even get to the tables, since I opened. Come around and get an apron – on that hook there.” He indicated behind him, with a toss of his head. Stephanie walked around the end of the counter and helped herself to a brand new black apron with THE CAFÉ written in white lettering across the front.
“I’m Stephanie,” she said, introducing herself to him as she pulled the apron over her head and crossed the ties behind her back, securing them in a bow at the front.
He took one hand off the milk steamer and shook her hand. “Andy.” The girls at the counter were busy chatting and took no notice of her.
Stephanie was busy for the next half hour clearing tables, taking orders and laughing and joking with Andy. The atmosphere in the café was laid back. The music which had seemed loud from outside was at a level which still allowed conversation. Andy fostered the relaxed mood, greeting his customers by name more often than not.
“Thanks,” he said to her when they had a pause between customers. “You don’t want a job, do ya?”
“No,” Stephanie replied, shaking her head.
“I’m serious – you’ve obviously worked in a café before,” he said.
“No I haven’t – just spent way too much time drinking coffee in them,” she replied.
The conversation ended there for the t
ime being as they got busy again. About half an hour later, Stephanie looked up to find Michael and a friend, waiting to be served.
“Steph – you do realise that you’re on the wrong side of the counter?” Michael teased.
She laughed.
“You must be Stephanie – we used to play together when you came to visit your grandmother,” said Michael’s friend, a short, chunky girl with a kind face and a big smile. “You probably don’t remember me, I’m Mary.”
“Of course, hi, Mary.” Stephanie smiled, but she had no recollection of the girl.
“So are you really working here?” Michael asked.
“I’m trying to convince her,” Andy said. “Whadda ya think?”
Michael grinned. “So long as she doesn’t do a haka and scare off all your customers, I guess it’ll be okay.”
Andy cracked up laughing.
“Yeah, yeah, amuse yourselves.” Stephanie couldn’t help, but grin.
“Well, I think it’s lovely to have someone from ‘down under’ living in Carlswick,” Mary offered kindly.
“Thank you, Mary. I knew I liked you,” Stephanie replied, pulling a face at Michael.
She took their order and said she’d bring it over to them.
Andy had gone to clear the tables, so Stephanie decided to make her friends’ drinks. Andy’s machine didn’t look a lot different to the one her father had at the house in London – just bigger. She worked quickly to grind the beans and steam the milk, and in no time had the two coffees made. Satisfied, she stepped back to admire her creations.
“So when can you start?” Andy asked. He was standing at the dishwasher with another load of dirty cups.
“Andy – I am only here for a couple of months until uni starts. Here – these are for Michael and Mary,” she replied.
Andy delivered them and returned to start loading the dishwasher, his face thoughtful.
“Okay – a couple of months will give me the breathing space I need to get on my feet with running this place. You can pick your hours and days – but I’m doing live music, poetry and comedy on Sunday nights. It’ll be a lotta fun. And I will need a barista who can handle themselves – because I expect it will be the hottest gig in town. Why don’t you start then?” he said enthusiastically.
“Well….” Stephanie hesitated. Maybe earning a few pounds would keep her from dipping into her savings too much before she started uni, and the afternoon with Andy had been fun. Working at the coffee shop might be a good way to get out of the house and get to know a few more people too, especially if this was to be her base in the holidays. Maybe I will fit in around here, after all, she thought hopefully, after the uncertain start with James and Victoria.
“I can’t pay you much more than the minimum wage – but you can have free coffee,” Andy said, pouncing on her hesitation.
“Well now, that settles it – deal,” she smiled, making a snap decision.
“Well, this is all very cosy,” said a husky voice. Stephanie whirled around. James was standing at the counter with an odd expression on his face. “Do you know who you just employed, Andy?”
Stephanie frowned, confused by his attitude.
Andy shook his head and looked at her, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
“Stephanie, ah, Cooper,” she said hesitantly.
“What – a Wakefield House Cooper?” Andy asked and grinned when she nodded in affirmation. “The enemy,” he said with a knowing nod at James.
“I’m sorry, am I missing something here?” Stephanie said, looking from one to the other.
“From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,” Andy quoted Shakespeare.
Realisation dawned on her and she looked at James. “Really? You were serious yesterday, eh?”
James shrugged nonchalantly. “History has shown that your family are liars and troublemakers.”
Ouch. Stephanie was visibly shocked at his rudeness.
“Dude, what can we get ya?” Andy asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Latte please? Double shot,” James replied.
He propped himself up on a bar stool and watched Stephanie as she busied herself tidying and wiping down the counter top and emptying the first dishwasher which had finished washing. She kept her head down, feeling very self-conscious under his scrutiny. Andy watched the interaction between the two with interest.
Stephanie looked at her watch – it was four-thirty. Where had the afternoon gone?
“Andy, I’m gonna have to go shortly,” she said.
“Sure, darlin’. Let me make you a coffee first – you never got one in the end, did you?” he replied.
“Has he had you working all day?” James asked sipping his latte. “You’re a rogue,” he grinned at Andy, shaking his head in disbelief. Andy had the reputation for being able to talk anyone into doing anything for him – girls especially. Andy merely inclined his head and shrugged.
“Society produces rogues, and education makes one rogue cleverer than another,” he replied quoting Oscar Wilde dramatically.
Stephanie rolled her eyes and smiled, as she hung up her apron and waited while Andy made her latte.
“Back home, we have something called a flat white, which is like a cross between a latte and a cappuccino. I’ll make you one next time, see what ya think,” she said to Andy.
Andy looked up, interested. “I’ve heard of that. If I like it, we could add it to the board,” he said.
Stephanie nodded and took her cup. “Thanks. So I’ll see you on Sunday at seven?” she said.
“Perfect,” he replied.
James snapped his head up and looked questioningly at Andy, as Stephanie walked over to join Michael and Mary on one of the sofas.
“Are you taking her out on Sunday?” he asked as soon as Stephanie was out of earshot, his voice cold.
“I’d love to say yes, just to wind you up,” Andy laughed, “but sadly no – she’ll be working here then.”
James let out the breath he had been holding and visibly relaxed.
“Intention declared then, dude?” Andy asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Nah,” said James dismissively, scowling. “She’s a Wakefield. Grandpa won’t be happy to hear that there is another one in town.”