He heard a tap on the door and turned as Alfred entered. “Sir, I want to apologize for not—”
Thomas waved a hand. “Come look out this window, Alfred.”
The manager crossed the room, past the desk with its teetering papers, the assortment of chairs, and the cold hearth. “What is it, sir?”
Alfred stood at his side, his pale hands clutched together. He was an older man of perhaps fifty, and he was intelligent and trustworthy. He’d lived in Wapping all his life and had a wife and four children there. He had two days off a week and would go home at every opportunity. Gaines had rooms in Wapping as well, but he didn’t care if he ever went back for more than the time it took to look in on his businesses there.
“Did you ever think we would be here, Alfred? That we would have our own shop on Bond Street? This is the most famous street in the world, and here we are.”
“It’s quite an accomplishment, sir, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Gaines looked at him.
“Ever since you first hired me as a waiter, I knew you weren’t like other men. You’re shrewd but kind.”
Thomas made a hissing sound. “Don’t spread that rumor about.”
Alfred smiled, his cheeks turning ruddy with pleasure. “No, sir. I suppose it helps that you know your tobacco so well. And your coffee. I’ve never known a man to take such a keen interest. So I can’t say I’m surprised.”
The two men stood at the window, looking out over their little square of the street until Thomas’s eye was drawn by a bright blue turban. Most of the bonnets were white or drab, dull colors, but this turban was blue as the sky on a clear winter day. He watched the woman in the turban move closer until she stopped across from the shop—his shop—and paused. She looked up at the sun, perhaps gauging the time, and Thomas felt his brows arch.
Her skin was a lovely shade of umber, her eyes wide-spaced and inquisitive. She had a long neck and, now that he was looking, a long slim body as well. It was hidden under a blue serge dress that was too big for her, but he could imagine her long legs and small waist.
“I’d better go down, sir,” Alfred said. “Our people will be here soon.”
Gaines nodded then forced himself away from the window and the lovely young woman just as a group of Mrs. Sinclair’s students passed by, obscuring her from view. He had a stack of documents to read and organize. When he sat at his crowded desk, he did miss Wapping. He’d had a filing system in place there, but here he’d had to start over. Right now he had everything in three piles—important, very important, and extremely important. He needed a clerk to come in and file everything for him. But he’d have to worry about that another day. He didn’t have time for clerks and filing when his extremely important stack was so tall.
He lifted the first document and began to read.
RAENI SMOOTHED THE clean white apron over her blue dress and tried to keep up with the woman behind the coffee room’s counter. Mrs. Price spoke quickly and moved even quicker. She rattled off instructions that made Raeni’s head spin. Although, her head might have been spinning simply from hunger and exhaustion. She’d slept on the floor of a church last night and had nothing to eat since yesterday afternoon when she’d spent her last penny on an old bun.
She struggled to listen carefully to Mrs. Price’s directives. Raeni couldn’t afford to lose this position. It didn’t help that Mrs. Price had tried to turn her away when she’d applied. It had been the kind manager, Alfred Miller, who had given her a chance.
But Mr. Miller oversaw the coffee shop, which sold coffee by the pound and tobacco as well. Raeni was stuck on the other side of Bond Street Coffee & Tobacco, and in a few moments her side, the coffee room, would open and begin serving. Despite the fact that Raeni had grown up around servants, she had not much experience serving herself. Her life in Jamaica had been so different from life here in England.
“Did you hear me, Miss Sawyer?” Mrs. Price asked sharply. The use of her formal name tore Raeni’s thoughts away from her reminiscences.
“Yes, Mrs. Price. I’m to seat customers and allow Caroline to serve.”
Caroline was a white woman in a gray dress and stiff apron. She was young and pretty and poured coffee with a flourish.
“Then go stand by the door,” Mrs. Price ordered. “And stand up straight. Mr. Gaines doesn’t like his employees to slouch.”
Raeni hadn’t met this Mr. Gaines, but she didn’t like him already. Mrs. Price had a long list of things he didn’t like. In addition to slouching, Mr. Gaines did not approve of tardiness, loud voices, smiles that showed too many teeth, or dust. The coffee room was immaculate, so clean in fact that Raeni wished she’d been able to sleep on this floor rather than the dusty old church floor. But beggars couldn’t be choosy, and right now she was one misstep from beggary.
Raeni took her position at the door and not a moment too soon as two men approached. She opened the door, causing the little bell above it to tinkle, and said, “Welcome to Bond Street Coffee & Tobacco.”
The men, dressed in the clothing of clerks barely acknowledged her, but followed her to a table, their conversation about Old Man Lofton barely slowing.
“Enjoy your coffee,” she told the men, as she had been instructed. The next two hours passed similarly. There was a steady stream of men, and a few ladies, in and out. Raeni sat the ladies well away from the shop area, which was separated from the coffee room by a partial wall, and sat the men closer so they might wander over to purchase tobacco after their refreshment. Her head had stopped spinning, but her throat was dry from repeating the same phrases time and again.
Caroline moved efficiently and her smile never faltered, but Raeni could see the tables were almost all taken. Caroline was looking about with an expression bordering on panic. At that moment, Mrs. Price beckoned to Raeni, who left her post and rushed to the counter where Mrs. Price took the customers’ orders and relayed them to the cook. Very little needed to be cooked. Most of the items offered were pastries and biscuits, which were made ahead of time, but Mr. Gaines had also added soup to the menu and that must be kept warm. And then, of course, there was the constant brewing of coffee.
“Yes, Mrs. Price?” Raeni asked.
“Go see to those men over there.” Mrs. Price pointed to a table of three men Raeni had seated a few minutes before. Mrs. Price turned and went back into the kitchen, and Raeni stood still for a moment, unsure of what she was to do.
She took a calming breath. She’d been watching Caroline all morning. It seemed easy enough. She plastered a tight smile on her face and made her way to the table. The men were speaking, and she wasn’t certain if she should interrupt or wait until there was a pause in the conversation. She stood awkwardly at the table. It seemed so easy for Caroline. Mrs. Price came back out and glowered at her, her dark skin shiny from the heat of the kitchen. Raeni cleared her throat. When the men paid her no attention, she cleared it again.
One of the men looked at her.
“Oh, hello,” she said. “What would you like?”
He gave her a slow smile. “What are you offering?”
She ignored the insinuation behind his words. “We have coffee, pastries, soup, and bread.”