by Lucy Knott
The woman, Jackie, at the bank had been lovely and it hadn’t taken too long for Florence to discuss her schooling plans or for Jackie to run through important information and logistics with her. Thanks to the woman’s kind demeanour, Florence didn’t get a headache. Her nanna and herself had always been on time with bills and with Florence only recently having been let go from her job, and with her assuring Jackie that she was actively looking for another one, Florence had been instructed to ring back within the week when she had found a job. Then Jackie could happily provide the loan no problem. Florence felt in a buoyant mood when she left the bank, but it faded quickly after her next job interview.
All had been going so well until when asked what she would do if a tick-tock failed to load, she had answered change the battery. How was she to know the young man had not been referring to a clock?
Six shops later and Florence was dragging her feet along the cobbles. She had been job hunting for most of the afternoon now and was becoming weary. Her smile was slowly fading, and she was beginning to hear the whispers of her books making her want to retreat home. She had been turned down based on not having qualifications nor a phone by five places and told to apply online by the other two, even when she had her résumé on hand.
As the city centre began filling up with people coming out of work, she veered away from the main path and down a side street. It was void of people and so she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a count of five. When she opened them, she looked up past the dark, grey buildings to the clouds.
‘Mum, Dad, if you can hear me, please give me a sign. I’m not having much luck here,’ she whispered to the heavens. Returning her gaze to the bricks and mortar of an office block in front of her, Florence narrowed her eyes at it to look for a clue, as if her parents were going to appear inside waving her in. But the building looked cold and too modern for her liking and the people going inside surely knew how to fix a tick-tock, but she was getting desperate. When her parents didn’t encourage her in, she walked a few steps to her left stumbling upon a café she hadn’t seen before.
Her mouth dropped open as she read the swirly quirky writing displayed over the window that said, “Caffeine Heights”. A group of teenagers ran past her, their loud chants and conversation making her aware that she was stood gaping at the quaint café with the appealing name. Florence quickly moved out of the middle of the path and rustled inside her bag to pull out the piece of paper where she had written down the directions for the coffee shop Olivia had told her to meet her at. She looked across the signposts and the street name to find that she was indeed in the right place. Excitement bubbled in her stomach. How did Olivia come across this place?
As Florence pushed open the glass door, she noticed a sign on the window informing her the coffee shop was hiring. A squeal very nearly slipped from her lips. She dipped back into her bag and pulled out the neatest-looking CV while briefly closing her eyes and sending up a thank you to her mum and dad. Then she crossed her fingers that the manager would accept it and her. Joining the line of three people, she scanned the cosy coffee shop. It wasn’t exactly a drama school or buzzing with kids and rainbows, but it was decorated with classic book posters and there were bookshelves placed between the coffee tables. The place was almost like a library but with a sweeter more delicious scent in the air. This felt like a dream within a dream – the idea of not sitting behind a desk all day and working in a place surrounded by books and tea while she worked on bringing her other dream to life seemed too good to be true. She crossed her fingers, gripping on tight to her CV.
In the line, Florence glanced up at the menu above the counter. “The Great Espresso,” “To Kill a Macchiato” – the menu was outstanding. When she reached the counter, she was greeted by a girl who wore a bright smile on her rosy-cheeked face. The bags under the girl’s eyes suggested she was exhausted, and Florence wondered about her story.
‘Hi, what can I get for you today?’ the girl asked, her eyes wandering over Florence and to the door. Florence followed the girl’s gaze and turned her head, curious to see what the girl was looking at but there was no one there. ‘I’d like to apply for the job vacancy please. I have my CV here,’ Florence said, turning back around and holding up the paper in her hand and silently praying the girl would take it and not suggest she apply online.
‘Oh, that’s fantastic. I’ll take it,’ the girl replied, leaning forward on the counter, and resting on her elbows. Then the girl’s eyes scanned Florence from top to bottom and her brow knitted with curiosity.
‘Why do you want a job here?’ the girl asked, leaning a little closer and lowering her voice. Florence took a small step nearer.
‘Because this place is fantastic. It’s a bookworm’s dream. And I got let go from my last job and I really need a new job to get myself through school,’ Florence admitted, her own voice coming out a little rambling and hushed, though there was something about the girl that made her feel like she could be honest and not put on pretence, like she had felt at the other job interviews.
‘Why ever would you get fired? You look so elegant and chic and I can already tell you’re smart – there’s an aura about you,’ the girl said, taking in Florence in her long cotton mauve polka dot dress, loose sandy curls, and clear frames. Florence had never met anyone whose blunt words and immediate judgement were so kind and favourable.
Florence felt her cheeks heat as she let out a chuckle. She wasn’t used to getting compliments from strangers, odd looks yes and the occasional once-overs and chat-up lines from men, but never something so innocently sweet. There was something about this girl and her large brown eyes and long lashes that Florence liked. ‘I wasn’t very good at it,’ Florence told her with a shy shrug. ‘I struggled to sit behind a desk and look at a computer all day. I tend to drift off,’ Florence added and instantly panicked at her truth. ‘But I think I’ll be good here; I like to be on my feet,’ she hastily said, but the girl was smiling a warm smile and seemed to have perked up a little extra. She stood up straight and reached out to take Florence’s CV.
‘I will see what I can do. My name is Bronte, by the way. My best friend owns this place,’ Bronte said, sticking out her hand. Florence shook it and beamed at the girl’s name.
‘As in Charlotte Brontë?’ Florence could not help but ask. Bronte’s face lit up and she nodded. ‘I’m Florence.’
‘And I’m in need of a coffee,’ came a curt voice behind Florence.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Florence said, moving out of the way of an older woman in a sharp grey suit who was giving her a stern glare. Florence waved at Bronte, who gave her an apologetic look in return. Florence went to find a table. The minute she sat down her stomach grumbled reminding her that she had forgotten to order any food while it was her turn, but she would let the intimidating woman get her coffee before heading back to the queue and placing her order. And besides, she felt happy that her encounter with Bronte had gone well, now she just had to cross her fingers that Bronte’s best friend wouldn’t be put off by her lack of qualifications or coffee knowledge and then hopefully she could get approved for this school loan and get it paid off quickly and smoothly.
The coffee shop grew busier and so Florence stayed tucked away in the shadows at a table towards the back of the shop, looking through the stack of books on the tiny table next to hers, too nervous to get back in line after the encounter with the rude lady, so when Olivia spotted her just after five, Florence was exceptionally hungry. At the same time her stomach swam with added nerves upon seeing a tall man emerge from the back office and take her CV from Bronte.
‘Hi, Flo, is everything all right?’ Olivia asked striding over to the table and placing her purse on the chair opposite Florence. Florence shook her head and pulled her attention towards her friend.
‘Yes, sorry. I’ve not eaten in a while and I handed in my CV here. I think that man is looking at it,’ Florence responded, pointing at the man, and then smiling up at Olivia. ‘How are yo
u, Liv? It’s good to see you.’ And it really was. Besides her nanna, Florence hadn’t spoken to many people since getting back from camp, bar Felicity at the library, the cashiers at her usual weekly shopping spots, and the people at the school she was enrolling in. Actually, she had spoken to quite a few people over the last week if she thought about it. There had been Jackie at the bank and all the shop assistants and managers she had reached out to and then today Bronte. She had been a better social butterfly this past week than she had been the last five years since getting fired from the theatre and starting work at Paperchains. The thought intrigued her. She had never thought about being a social butterfly before.
Her lack of interaction with others was not something she often thought about due to her books. Every single day she felt like she met new people and caught up with old friends as she dived between the pages. However, after a week with Jo and his bubbly companionship, and thinking over her bravery this past week, she didn’t think it would be so terrible to meet others and find her people as she had done at the theatre for all those years. If she allowed herself to admit it, she missed the people there and the laughter, chatter, and camaraderie between them all. She hoped she would be able to find that again at college and maybe here at the coffee shop if she got the job. She liked Bronte.
‘That’s great, Florence. What would you like? You keep the table; I’ll go and get it,’ Olivia said, with a beaming smile. Florence placed her order with Olivia and returned her gaze to the tall man. He had chocolate brown eyes, broad shoulders, a gorgeous smile and was chatting animatedly with Bronte as he turned over Florence’s CV in his hands. When they stopped talking Bronte turned to Olivia.
‘Did you hear him say anything about me?’ Florence asked, her elbows on the table, hands clasped together, when Olivia came back to their table with a pot of tea and a panini for Florence, a coffee and muffin for herself.
She wiggled her eyes at Florence suggestively as she took her seat. ‘I like this new you. He’s cute,’ Olivia teased before taking a bite out of her chocolate muffin.
‘Liv,’ Florence protested, raising her eyebrow as she poured her tea. ‘I just told you I handed in my CV.’
‘You’re no fun.’ Olivia smirked. ‘No, he was asking that girl about her writing classes and something about acting.’
‘That’s Bronte. I just met her,’ Florence said through a big bite of mozzarella and tomato. She liked Bronte even more now upon hearing the words writing classes and acting. Florence hoped she would be able to speak with her more. It also made her feel that somewhere deep in her gut she was meant to work at this beautiful bookworms’ coffee shop and, that there were more people out there like her and Jo.
‘How come you chose this place to meet?’ Florence enquired after swallowing her tasty bite.
Olivia smiled softly, picking at her muffin. ‘If ever there was a coffee shop that screamed your name, it would be this one. I thought you’d like it in here.’ She shrugged casually but Florence’s heart filled at her friend’s thoughtfulness. She did like it, very much so.
‘So, tell me more about your holiday. How are you feeling? Who’s Jo?’ Olivia asked, nudging Florence’s hand and grinning. It was hard for Florence to open up when Olivia was more the dust yourself off and try again type. When a man wasn’t worth it, it was no big deal as there were plenty more fish in the sea. Florence didn’t share that same mentality and it seemed no matter how many bad set-ups and disastrous double dates Olivia caused, she only became more determined to continue the search on Florence’s behalf. Florence appreciated that her friend cared to a degree and didn’t want to fault her for that and the fact that she had been so sweet to bring Florence to Caffeine Heights, Florence thought to let her cheeky grin go this time.
‘It was wonderful, thank you and I feel good. I mentioned it on the phone, but it inspired me to look for a job that I feel passionately about, so I’m going to be starting school in September. That is if I can secure this job to cover a loan and stay on top of things,’ Florence told Olivia with a smile to encourage her positive vibes to fill the space around her and find their way over to Bronte and her best friend, who were back to chatting animatedly behind the counter. Florence chuckled at them, feeling that tug of belonging again before turning her attention back to Olivia.
‘I’m proud of you, Flo. That’s amazing news. And go on, do tell of your holiday romance,’ Olivia urged, leaning in with excitement etched on her face.
‘Thank you and there was no holiday romance,’ Florence started, absentmindedly sipping her tea, and holding her cup with both hands. ‘I simply spent the week rebuilding an old barn with Jo.’
The way Olivia’s face crumpled, and brows furrowed in confusion made Florence laugh. ‘Is Jo hot?’ Olivia asked after a moment’s pause. Florence instantly felt her face flush and burnt the back of her throat on a rather large gulp of hot tea. At the mention of “Jo” and “hot”, her mind suddenly drifted to the night Jo had come to save her in the bathtub after he had accidently thrown a bag of raisins at her head. Goose bumps had prickled her wet skin, with Jo’s proximity, his mischievous yet shy smile and his awkwardness, in her dimly lit hut. He had looked positively gorgeous. She hadn’t let herself acknowledge the fuzzy feeling that had presented itself in her belly then, but it was getting harder to ignore now. Jo certainly had those handsome features, that heart-shaped jawline, mystic hazel eyes and that bouncy dark hair. He towered over her and made her feel protected and safe. If she were a writer, he was the kind of leading man she would want to write.
‘I’m going to take that silence as a yes,’ Olivia noted, her voice coming out in a higher pitch than before as she beamed at Florence. Florence jumped having gotten lost in an image of Jo in her mind. Ever since her talk with her nanna, it was true that both her heart and her brain had started to see Jo in a different light. Little by little she was letting him in, but then she supposed that was easy when he wasn’t right in front of her; it was almost like he was some fictional character in another world. Would she be able to let him in when she returned to the camp? A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that Jo was in London and not Lily Pines. What happened if he had already moved on? It unhelpfully questioned.
‘How is Drew? How are things at the office?’ Florence asked, quickly changing the subject, which earned her an eye roll from her friend.
‘I’m up for a promotion next week and Drew is as lovely as ever,’ Olivia said, with a dreamy look on her face.
Florence sat up straighter in her chair. ‘That’s fantastic, Liv. You work so hard; you deserve a promotion. I will keep everything crossed for you,’ she said with a smile. ‘And please say hi to Drew for me. I’m happy to hear things are going so well,’ she added before finishing her panini. Olivia picked at the crumbs on her muffin wrapper.
‘One day we will have a double date you know, and it will be, as you would say, magical,’ Olivia said with a wink. The friends talked until the crowd in the coffee shop dispersed. Olivia listened to Florence talk of the books she had read recently and what the teaching course offered, and Florence listened to Olivia talk of possibly moving in with Drew and what the promotion would mean for her. As they gathered their things to leave, Bronte skipped over.
‘Florence, hey. Can you come back tomorrow for an interview?’ Bronte enquired with excitement in her tone.
‘Hi, yes, yes, I can do that,’ Florence stammered, getting caught putting her bag over her head and knocking her glasses. She pushed them back up her nose and smiled at Bronte. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem. See you tomorrow,’ Bronte said and galloped away, her silver hair tumbling down her back and glistening under the bright lights of Caffeine Heights.
Twenty-Two
It was now Friday afternoon and inside the coffee shop was quiet, for most people were sitting at the tables outside enjoying another beautiful afternoon of the summer sunshine. Nearly all of today’s orders had been for iced coffees and flavoured frappuccinos
, which Florence found to be the easiest to make. Since she had gotten the job on Tuesday, she hadn’t quite got the hang of the milk frother or giant espresso machine just yet.
Speaking of getting the job, Florence’s interview on Tuesday had gone swimmingly thanks to Bronte and her best friend Langston’s love of books and the arts. Florence had found out that Bronte was currently taking acting classes and working on an English degree and Langston was an aspiring poet who had opened the coffee shop because for him writing and coffee went hand in hand and he had always felt inspired when working with the smell of coffee in the air. The two of them together, Bronte and Langston, were a dream. Passion poured out of them when they spoke and Florence adored talking to them, finding that she herself loosened up and let go. She was able to tell them her own tale of how she loved to teach and work with children but at the time that had been by pure luck and chance, more of a “it’s who you know” situation as she had grown up around the theatre. When she had been fired she hadn’t quite known what to do and that’s why she had ended up at Paperchains for so long.
Bronte had shown great sympathy for her as well as using some rather colourful language to express what she thought of Florence’s ex-boyfriend Ryan, and though Bronte was a few years younger than Florence, the two got on like a house on fire. Each day this week, Bronte had gushed over Florence’s outfits and greeted her with a line from Shakespeare as they got ready to open the café each day. Florence had felt inspired by Bronte’s confidence and ability to be herself no matter who came in the café. Bronte shouted out orders with quotes from the books that matched the drinks and wasn’t deterred by the odd looks she received from some of the customers for her dramatics.
With her shy nature the busier hours in the café had been a shock to Florence’s system at first and she had become frazzled on more than one occasion. However, with the drinks being named after many of her beloved stories it certainly made them hard to forget, that and with Bronte never being far from her side and always offering words of encouragement had slowly eased Florence’s nerves.