She has locked the car, and I go in to let her know, but she’s nowhere in sight. Maybe she’s in the Ladies.
‘Morning, Molly!’ Hope, behind the counter, beckons me across, looking worried, and for a horrible moment, I think maybe I’ve done something wrong.
‘Is everything okay?’
She shakes her head. ‘Fen’s mum, Marjory, was in yesterday after you’d gone, talking about closing this place.’
I stare at her in alarm. ‘For good?’
‘No, just during the low season. Once the house and grounds are open to the public, business in here always picks up. But Marjory’s not happy about the low takings, especially during the early part of the week, and I can’t blame her. Since Christmas, we haven’t turned a profit even once. We’re struggling to break even.’
My stomach shifts uneasily at this news. I’d applied for loads of positions, without even a whiff of success, before Fen offered me this lifeline.
I can’t lose this job.
Molly leans on the counter and murmurs, ‘Fen managed to convince Marjory to give us a stay of execution. But the upshot is that we have a fortnight to turn things around, otherwise the café will have to close.’
‘Surely, between us, we can come up with a solution? A way to get more customers through the doors?’
Hope nods. ‘As soon as Bertha arrives, we’ll have a chat. Before we open up.’ She smiles sadly. ‘It’s such a shame for you. You’ve only just started and there’s an axe hanging over our heads! Fen said you bake fabulous cakes.’
‘Well, just with Eva, my little girl. She likes everything I bake. But I caught her putting Smarties in her ham sandwich the other day, so she’s maybe not the best food judge in the world.’
Hope laughs. ‘I once knew someone who liked dipping his chips in chocolate spread.’
We exchange a shuddery grin.
‘Do you want to start putting the sugar bowls out? Then when Bertha arrives, we can have that chat. It’s important for all of us to hang onto our jobs if we can.’
I mention the rabbit droppings and Hope directs me to the dustpan and brush they use for the purpose. When I nip through to the kitchen, there’s a man in overalls on his knees, tinkering with the pipes under the sink, and Krystle is kneading dough at one of the benches, her back to me. Her white blonde hair is in a cute ponytail today, and it swings back and forwards as she slaps the dough onto the bench, her cheeks flushed. It must be hot work, bread-making.
I don’t like to disturb them by saying hello as they’re both so busy. But as I open the cupboard, Krystle turns and sees me.
She gives me a shy smile. ‘Hi. It’s Molly, isn’t it?’
Her question takes me by surprise. We were introduced only yesterday. But I nod and point at the dough. ‘That’s an impressive technique. I guess you can take out all your frustrations on that poor old dough!’
The man turns. ‘I’m a bit worried it might be me next,’ he jokes, grinning at Krystle.
I’m expecting the extrovert Krystle to laugh and immediately banter something back. But she just flicks a glance at Adam, gives a tight little smile, and returns to bashing her dough without a word.
‘Hi, Molly. I’m Adam. Your friendly local handyman.’ He smiles, rising to his feet and clapping dust off his hands. ‘There’s a leak that needs sorting.’ He points. Then he casts a mischievous glance at Krystle. ‘I was promised a cuppa a while ago, but it never materialised.’
Krystle gasps. ‘Sorry.’ She abandons her dough and hurries over to the kettle.
‘Hey, there’s no rush. I was only teasing.’
Krystle doesn’t reply. She just busies herself making the tea as if her life depended on it, cursing under her breath when she drops the spoon on the floor.
Adam picks it up for her and she takes it with an awkward little smile, her blush deepening.
‘Milk, no sugar.’ Adam winks at me. ‘I’m sweet enough.’ He groans. ‘Did I really just say that?’
I laugh. Then an idea occurs. ‘Do you do other jobs, apart from plumbing?’
He nods. ‘Anything that needs fixing, I’m your man. Something I can do for you?’
I tell him what I need and he says he can pop round later, when I’m back from work, so I give him my address.
‘See you later, then, Molly.’ He goes back to his pipes.
I collect the brush and pan, and leave them to it, wondering if Krystle is all right. She seems really subdued today. And awkward with Adam, who’s just being friendly.
As I emerge, I almost bump into someone coming out of the Ladies. It’s the woman who asked me to clean up the rabbit poo, and I hold the brush and pan aloft with a smile. She’s changed back into her shoes, I notice.
‘Thanks for letting us know about the mess outside. Oh, and by the way, you had locked your car.’
She nods coolly, and Hope calls through, ‘Oh, Molly? I don’t think you’ve met Patrina.’
I go out to join her at the servery, expecting to be introduced, but there’s no-one there. She throws a smile at someone behind me. ‘Patrina, meet Molly.’
Confused, I spin round.
‘Oh, we’ve already met,’ says the poo woman. ‘Haven’t we, Holly?’
‘Er…yes.’ I smile at her. Then I glance at Hope. ‘I’m just going to clean up the rabbit droppings.’
‘Thanks so much, Molly. I asked Patrina only the other day to do a clear up out there, but it seems those rascally rabbits have been at it again!’ She arches her eyebrows at Patrina, who just smiles blandly and looks away.
As I walk off, I hear Hope say, ‘Actually, that reminds me. We need to draw up a cleaning rota. It’s all fallen by the wayside a bit since Marie left.’
‘Ah, yes. Cleaning. I’d love to help, of course,’ replies Patrina, ‘but sadly I happen to be allergic to bleach?’
Bertha, arriving at that moment and catching the tail end of the conversation, snorts as she passes me and murmurs, ‘Everyone’s “allergic” to bleach, the silly mare. You just wear gloves. Trust Patrina to try and wriggle out of doing any work.’
I smile. ‘I don’t mind doing the cleaning. I am the newest here, after all. By the way, I didn’t realise Patrina was my boss.’
Bertha stares at me. ‘What gave you that impression?’
‘Erm…Patrina?’
‘Well, she most certainly is not. She’s just temporary staff. Even lower down the pecking order than you and me.’
‘Oh.’ I’m genuinely surprised by this.
Bertha leans closer. ‘Mummy and Daddy are extremely well heeled, good friends of Fen’s parents, and they apparently begged Marjery to give their daughter a job to keep her out of mischief. A sort of antidote to her champagne-parties-and-sleeping-in-till-noon lifestyle.’
My eyebrows rise. ‘Patrina’s wealthy, then?’
Bertha nods. ‘Allowance from Daddy. Her parents own half of Surrey, by the sounds of things.’
I go outside and deal with the poo, thinking about this. I actually find it quite amusing, how easily Patrina manipulated me into doing what she wanted. It was her air of confidence and entitlement that made me assume she was my superior here – and that’s likely the result of a whole lifetime of having people to do the menial tasks for her and never having to get her hands dirty herself. Quite literally in the case of the rabbit droppings!