by A. E. Radley
“Excellent,” she said to herself.
She made a mental note to pop into Edge that evening and extract an apology and a thank you from the woman.
Becoming Visible
Kate walked around the trendy coffee shop, taking it all in. It was all distressed wood, bare walls, and metal rails. In one corner was a cluster of leather tub chairs holding a group of mums with babies.
“They come in twice a week,” Julian explained. “We have a calm vibe, so the mothers like that.”
“I bet,” Kate agreed.
She still wasn’t quite sure about Julian or his intentions. She’d been on the streets for a while, and no local business owner had ever walked up to her and offered her a position before.
He’d been quite clear that it would be a temporary trial; she’d work for free in return for three meals a day. After a week or so, they’d review.
It sounded like a dream come true.
Which was why Kate was wary.
She’d not experienced much good luck in her life, but she wasn’t about to refuse a potential life-saving offer such as this.
She’d do her best, work as hard as she could, and try to earn employment, while keeping an eagle eye on what was happening around her. Stories of people being snatched off the street and sold into human slavery rang in her ears.
“I’ll need some details from you, for the insurance,” Julian said. “If you want to come through to the office?”
Kate looked at the two staff members working behind the counter. They seemed happy and friendly. No sign that anything untoward was going on.
They walked through the kitchen and into a small office. Julian gestured for Kate to take a seat.
“So, you said this was a… community thing?” Kate fished.
Julian rummaged through stacks of papers on his desk.
“Yes, we do lots of charity and community work. Edge wants to be embedded in the community, to be seen as essential as the local post office or the town hall.” He paused and looked up at her sincerely. “That’s the corporate spin, anyway. We do want to be a part of the local area, but I don’t have delusions that we’re as important as the post office.”
Kate chuckled. “Good. I don’t think many older people around here have much use for a non-fat latte, just their pension payment.”
“We do have a bridge club come in every Thursday evening. When they first came, they asked me if we do ordinary tea. I said we did, and they looked so relieved. Probably convinced that we only serve plain coffee beans with a hammer and a pot of water.”
“On a piece of slate,” Kate added.
“Exactly!” Julian plucked out a sheet of paper. “I just need you to fill this in. Or, as much as you can. I… suppose you don’t have an address?”
“I can use the shelter’s,” Kate said.
Julian handed over the piece of paper and fished around for a pen. He didn’t make eye contact, making it obvious that this was the first time he had done anything like this. He had the look of someone who knew they were privileged and felt guilty about it. It was a look she had seen a lot over the recent months.
“So, how does that work? If I may ask?” He handed over a pen. “The shelter, I mean.”
Kate started to fill in the form.
“It’s a women-only shelter, only four beds. It’s first come, first served. So, I have to be there when the doors open at nine in the evening, or I won’t get a bed. They have showers and usually a hot meal provided. Then we have to be out at six in the morning. The space is used for something else during the day.”
“We open at seven,” Julian said. “I’m usually here from six-thirty, so you’re more than welcome to come here then.”
“That would be great,” Kate said. The idea of going from the shelter to a place of work, even if unpaid, was wonderful. “I’d need somewhere to put my sleeping bag. I need to keep it with me… just in case.”
“We have lockers, more than we need, actually, so you can take a couple if you like,” Julian offered.
Kate paused at the next question on the form. She frowned.
“Problem?” he asked.
“This question about uniform sizes. I’ve not shopped for clothes for a while. I have no idea what size I am anymore,” she admitted.
“You look like you’re the same size as Terri. We can have a look at her uniform and see if it fits.”
Kate looked at him in surprise for a couple of moments. She hadn’t realised how long it had been since she’d been treated like a normal person by a stranger. Yes, she met a lot of volunteers from various council services and charities, and most of them were lovely. But the average person she met was not.
She’d been harassed in the street by businessmen. Shouted at by drunks coming home from a night out. Sneered at by women, young and old.
Even people who tried to help were cautious, eyeing her as if she might lurch forward and bite them. It was little things, like the fact that no one wanted to touch her, or even get close to her, as if fearful she was covered in fleas, that made her feel like she was no longer a part of society.
Julian didn’t seem like that. Yes, he seemed a little uncertain, but he was starting to make eye contact with her and was being polite and courteous.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
Kate coughed and quickly focused her attention back on the form. “Yes, just… it’s been a while since I’ve filled in paperwork.”
“How long have you been… um…?”
“I’ve been homeless for nearly a year.”
“And the council haven’t done anything about it?”
“Not really, I’m on a list. In the system, as they say. But there’s always someone worse off than I am. Someone who has children, or someone with medical problems, who takes priority. At least I have a roof over my head at night, most nights.”
There was silence. Kate didn’t blame him. If she’d been in his situation a few years ago, she wouldn’t have known what to say either. It was only after living through them that she had an understanding of both sides of the coin.
“So, I suppose I should ask. Do you like coffee?” Julian asked brightly, trying to pull the conversation back on track.
“Love it,” Kate admitted.
“That’s good. Because once we get you on our system and go through the welcome pack, I’m going to show you how we make the best coffee in town.”
“Well, well, well.”
Kate paused wiping down a table. Her breathing quickened, and a cold chill ran down her spine. She didn’t know who stood behind her, but whoever it was recognised her. It sounded like they were about to stir up all kinds of trouble.
Breathe, she reminded herself. Just breathe.
It was just after eight o’clock, and Edge was getting ready to close. She knew there were no other customers in the shop. Julian was in the office, and a co-worker who had introduced herself as Alena was cleaning up behind the counter.
It had been a good first day. Kate just hoped whoever stood behind her wasn’t about to put a stop to that.
She stood up straight and slowly turned around.
The woman was smirking so hard Kate was afraid she’d pull a muscle. She knew that the woman recognised her, but she was having trouble identifying the woman in return. She looked somehow familiar, but months of living on the street meant she met a peculiarly high number of people.
“Do I know you?”
The woman stuck her hand out. “Selina Hale, guardian angel.”
Kate politely shook her hand, quickly snatching her own hand back when the opportunity arose.
The voice shook something loose in her brain. A few seconds passed as she flicked through memories, trying to locate the woman.
Then, she remembered.
“Oh. You.”
Of course, it was the rude lady from the evening before. The one with apparently forgettable nephews and a terrible attitude.
“Yes, me.” She peered at the temporary name
tag on Kate’s apron. “Kate. I presume you want to say thank you?”
“Thank you?” Kate blinked. “For… for what?”
“Well, firstly, for the drink I kindly gave you yesterday. And, secondly.” She held her hands up and gestured to the surroundings.
Kate swallowed. Her eyes flicked around the coffee shop as if taking it in for the first time. Suddenly the trendy location looked dirty, sullied.
“I spoke with Julian, recommended that he might want to speak with you. Edge like to reach out and help the community. So, as your guardian angel, I thought I’d stop by and get that thank you that I didn’t quite manage to hear yesterday.”
Kate bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t believe the lengths this woman—Selina—would apparently go to for a thank you. Whatever happened to doing something nice just for the sake of it?
It would have been nice to turn on her heel and leave the woman hanging, again, but Kate wasn’t that foolish. Selina clearly held some sway and wasn’t afraid to use it.
“I appreciate your efforts on my behalf,” Kate said sweetly, determined to not actually say thank you. She wasn’t going to give the woman that satisfaction.
Selina looked insanely pleased with herself. She took a breath and thrust her chest out with pride.
Kate took a small step forward, drawing herself to her full height and staring Selina right in the eye.
“I’m grateful for this opportunity and the part you played in it, but I’m not going to grovel to you. I’m not going to kiss your boots. And I’m not going to thank you every single time I see you. If you’re into that kinda kink, then that’s wonderful for you, but you won’t get it here. This is me saying that I appreciate what you have done, Selina… what was it? Hale? I’m not going to call you my guardian angel, and I don’t view you as one. Are we on the same page?”
The smirk slowly slid from Selina’s face, and a cold, harsh grin replaced it. Kate didn’t budge, not willing to give her a centimetre. Though Selina looked annoyed, her eyes shone with something that Kate couldn’t quite place.
Grudging respect? Surely not.
“I see,” Selina said. “You’ve made all of that very clear. I accept your gratitude and will be equally appreciative of not seeing you clogging up my car park in the future. Or, indeed, seeing you at all.”
As Kate watched Selina stalk out of Edge, she wondered if she had drawn a line under the weird relationship she’d acquired with Selina. Or if this was just the beginning.
Unexpectedly Helpful
Selina marched into her office and threw her notepad onto the desk. She tossed her phone on top of it and flopped into her high-back chair. She quickly kicked her heels off and let out a long sigh.
After she’d settled into her chair, she plucked up the note from under her keyboard. She peered at it for a second, and then scrunched it up and threw it in the bin. She wasn’t going to call Jeremy back any time soon.
But she was going to kill Margaret.
Who in their right mind suggested an unplanned walking tour of an event space in the middle of a meeting about office space and desk relocation?
People who want to take the heat off them and their department, she answered her own question.
Slashing marketing’s budgets had happened over the last couple of weeks, and Margaret had taken it in her stride. Selina had expected an angry outburst or some kind of petty squabble, but Margaret continued to wear her annoying smile. She carried on as if the fact her department was walking wounded didn’t bother her in the slightest.
But Margaret had started to cosy up to the board members. Any meeting at which a board member was present seemed to encourage the head of marketing to talk about something she knew they would enjoy hearing.
Like a client appreciation event. Because no board member would push aside a discussion about a party.
It was a brilliant strategy, right out of Selina’s own playbook.
When Selina looked to cut the number of guests to an event, Margaret would talk to board members about who was on the chopping block. Obviously, her suggestions were met with panic as the board worried about upsetting their best clients who may have suddenly been uninvited.
Selina’s suggestion to cut the drinks bill was met with equal concern when Margaret casually suggested they print drinks vouchers for attendees. This, the board argued, would make it appear to be a low-quality event.
And, finally, when Selina asked if they really needed to book the expensive venue everyone had their eye on, Margaret suggested they all go there to check it out. Right then. In the middle of the meeting about something else entirely.
It was only a ten-minute walk away, so of course everyone had agreed. Before long they were enjoying—some enduring—a sixty-minute tour led by the venue’s event coordinator, who, Selina would avow, seemed suspiciously organised for an off-the-cuff visit.
It was seven o’clock in the evening. Gemma had, of course, gone home. Selina was behind schedule, exhausted, and starving. She’d skipped lunch with the intention of grabbing a late afternoon snack to keep her going. Now it was evening, and she knew she needed to stay to work late.
Very late.
She walked to the window and looked at the light pouring out from Edge. It was the nearest place still open and would serve food for around another hour, but she hadn’t stepped foot in Edge for the last three weeks. Not since her altercation with the homeless woman, Kate.
Her stomach rumbled at the thought of a warm panini.
“Yes, yes, okay,” she muttered.
She grabbed her knee-length black coat from the rack and slid her heels back on, wincing at the feel of swollen feet being crammed back into their airtight coffins. She tossed her phone into her bag and headed out.
Her dining habits were not usually dictated by strangers, but there was something about Kate that Selina couldn’t quite place. Once the woman had stood up to her, Selina had felt chastised, almost embarrassed.
A sensation she was entirely unused to.
Rather than feeling smug about her solution to the car park issue, she felt empty. She’d decided to use a childish parting shot, claiming that she hoped to never see Kate again. It was something she knew she’d regret saying even as the words slipped past her lips.
Within a few minutes, she was walking through the doors and looking directly at Kate who stood behind the counter with a satisfied smirk on her face.
“Well, well, well,” the woman gloated.
“Oh, you’re still here?” Selina asked casually. She walked towards the display cabinet and bent to look at the food on offer.
“I am,” Kate confirmed. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Nowhere else is open,” Selina said.
“That’s true. But don’t you have a minion to do this kind of thing for you?”
Selina stood up and made eye contact with Kate. She didn’t know why she was even considering conversation with the younger woman, but it seemed pointless to ignore her. Especially considering as she’d soon be ordering food from her.
“She’s pregnant and has taken to going home the very second the working day officially ends.”
Kate chuckled. She turned and wiped down the work surfaces behind her. “Yep, pregnant women tend to do that,” she agreed.
“She used to be rather efficient,” Selina said. “Now she just waddles around like a balloon about to pop and does as little as possible.”
Kate turned around, a thoughtful look on her face. “Redhead? About my height?”
“That’s her. How did you know?”
“She’s pregnant, and she looks like she hates her boss,” Kate explained.
Selina rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, that’s probably true. Can I have the brie, avocado, and tomato panini? Hot, to go.”
“Sure.” Kate started preparing the food. “To drink?”
Selina looked up at the menu. There were so many options, and she was too exhausted to even think about them.
“Just… black coffee. As big a cup as possible.”
“Long day?” Kate asked, plucking a large takeaway mug from the stack.
“Yes. And it will be longer still. I was stuck in a pointless meeting, which means I’ll spend the next couple of hours doing the work I could have done then. Of course, I’d be getting right on with it if I had an assistant who was actually of any assistance to me.” She leaned on the counter. “But instead, I’m here. With you.”
“’Tis a blessing,” Kate deadpanned. “Have you asked her to stay later?”
“I’ve indicated that someone wanting to keep their job might want to put more hours in,” Selina let out a long sigh, “but it’s not just the hours. Even when she is there, she’s turning into a useless, fat lump.”
“Endearing.” The toaster started to beep. Kate skilfully removed the panini and placed it in a to-go bag. “I don’t know why I’m even asking this, but have you tried to be nice? People like to help people who are nice.”
“I realise you don’t know me that well, but have I given you any indication that I might be nice?” Selina asked.
“I did say, ‘Try to be nice,’” Kate emphasised. “Seriously, maybe you should try it. Show an interest in her pregnancy.”
“But I’m completely uninterested.”
“Yeah, I can see that. I bet she can see that, too. It’s called make-believe. Show some interest. Pretend you’re a human being.” Kate slid the coffee and the panini across the counter and rang up the order on the till.
“You’re quite rude.” Selina pulled her bank card out of her purse and tapped it on the card reader.
Kate’s bluntness didn’t offend or faze her. In fact, she liked the honesty. But she wasn’t about to sit back and accept it without a little pushback.
“I think you can handle it.” Kate ripped the receipt off the till and handed it to her. “Seriously, though, consider it a test. Show some interest in her, and see how she responds. Don’t go too far. We don’t want her to pass out with shock or call a doctor for you.”