You're the One That I Want(111)

I stood at the counter and waited for her to come over, which she eventually did whilst wiping her hands dry on her pink floral apron, which covered a glamorous light blue dress underneath.

‘Hello there, dearie. Sorry about the wait. What can I get you?’ she asked, with a broad smile and kind blue eyes.

In the previous shops I’d walked into I had just wanted to throw my CV into the manager’s hands and then bolt for the door, instantly feeling uncomfortable as panic started to consume me, but there was something about this woman that had me rooted to the spot. I even held her eye contact for a few brief moments and almost felt comfortable doing so.

‘Actually, I came to drop off my CV,’ I said, as I fumbled through my bag and pulled out a freshly printed one. The lady took it from my hands and casually glanced over it.

‘Have you ever worked in a shop before?’ she asked, squinting at the paper.

‘Yes, a florist’s,’ I said quietly.

‘So you already know how to greet customers with a friendly smile?’

I nodded politely as I felt her scrutinize me from head to toe, the smile still plastered on her heavily wrinkled face.

Perhaps I should have told her at this point that I’d spent most of my time there washing dirty buckets in the back room out of sight and not with the customers at all; but before I could speak up she’d moved on.

‘How many hours are you looking for?’ she asked.

I hadn’t thought this far ahead, but one glimpse around the room told me that I’d gladly spend a lot of time here. ‘As many as you can give me.’

‘And – one last thing – do you like cake?’

‘I love it,’ I said, giving her a nervous smile.

‘Good to hear! You’re hired. You’ve come in at a very good time actually, my last waitress unexpectedly quit yesterday – with no explanation!’

‘Really?’

‘Sadly, yes … although she was a grumpy chops so I’m not too bothered. I’m Molly, by the way.’

‘I’m Sophie.’ I offered my hand for her to shake but she looked at the hand, grabbed it and pulled me in for a warm hug instead. I can remember actually gasping at the intimacy, as it wasn’t something I was used to. At first I felt rigid and stiff but once the shock had subsided it became strangely calming and pleasant.

‘Now, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?’ she asked softly, releasing me from her embrace.

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders.

‘Great, let’s class this as your first day, then.’ She slid a tray with a pot of tea and a cup and saucer in my direction. ‘Go take that to Mrs Williams, the lady in the cream blouse with the purple rinse to the left – the one with her nose buried in Bella. I’ll go dig you out an apron.’

Picking up the tray I made my way over to Mrs Williams and carefully placed the pot of boiling tea in front of her. She lowered her magazine and peered up at me over the top of her glasses; I instantly recognized her from out and about in the village.

‘You’re new here,’ she stated.

‘Yes, I’ve just started. Literally.’

‘You live in Willows Mews, don’t you? Your mum’s that lovely lady at the library.’

‘That’s right,’ I nodded, shyly.

‘Aw, she’s ever so kind – always helps me take my books home. I’ve got greedy eyes when it comes to books, you see!’ She let out a childlike chuckle and screwed her eyes shut. ‘Send her my love then, won’t you, darling,’ she said, whilst pouring out a cup of tea and stirring in two sugars.

‘Will do, Mrs Williams,’ I said, as I walked back to Molly at the counter.

‘You’re Jane May’s daughter?’ Molly asked.

‘That’s right,’ I said, with a slight nod.

‘I thought so. Well if you’re anything like her then I’m lucky to have you on board,’ she said with a kind smile as she held out her hand and gave me an apron.

My first day working in the teashop whizzed by in a blur – there was one hairy moment when a plate managed to slip out of my hand, fly through the air and smash rather loudly into a billion pieces, causing me to blub dramatically – but other than that it went quite smoothly.

My gap year flew by before I’d even had a chance to think about what I wanted to do next, and so I extended it to two years … then three years … then four, until I suddenly realized that I had no desire to go to university at all; I was happy where I was, and am still just as happy eight years later.

Although I’d started as a waitress, Molly put a lot of faith in me and taught me all she knew about baking cakes and service with a smile. Every day we bake fresh scones, muffins and cakes, and experiment with new recipes, whilst putting the world to rights. At sixty-six years old Molly is continually being told by her doctor that she should be slowing down and starting to take things easy – but she’s not one to listen.