Self-assurance seemed to roll off Rhianne like wafts of spicy perfume. She was taller than Rosie by several inches, and curvier too. She clearly saw no need to make amends for her plus-sized proportions by tenting them in the sort of ‘flattering’ garments Rosie often reached for. Instead, she wore blue skinny jeans with a patterned shirt tucked into the waistband. It was unbuttoned to display at least two inches more cleavage than Rosie herself had ever revealed in public.All of which was to say,she lookedfantastic.
‘Relax,’ Rhianne said a minute or two later, grinning as she placed a cup and saucer in front of Rosie, who had unconsciously begun gnawing on her fingernails.
‘This isn’t an interview – more a quick once-over before you get started. That’s assuming youwantthe job?’ Rhianne went on. ‘I hear you’ve spent years dealing with people who are pissed off because their insurance policies won’t pay out. Handling the odd customer who’s picky about the temperature of their latte should be a piece of cake by comparison.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ Rosie murmured, suddenly feeling more sure of herself.
‘Well, maybe you should start,’ Rhianne said, with a smart nod. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d be like,’ she went on, eyeing Rosie and then necking the last of her espresso. ‘For a man obsessed with words, my cousin is shockingly inarticulate.’
‘Your cousin?’ Rosie asked, looking up sharply.
‘Case in point,’ Rhianne said, rolling her eyes. ‘I gather he didn’t tell you we’re related. All he said tomewas that he had a new friend who’d had a rough time lately, and that this person would be up for working here a bit while she sorted a few things out.’
Rosie nodded. ‘All true.’
‘His way of returning me a favour, as well as doing you one,’ Rhianne went on. ‘I put him in touch with the builders who are working on the flat. Same team as did this place.’
‘Right,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ve met some of them, Tim, Richard and Amit? Nice guys.’
Rhianne smiled in agreement, then said: ‘It was only after some aggressive questioning that Al informed me he was living in your spare room.’
‘Ah. Yes,’ Rosie said. ‘It’s a marriage of convenience, for want of a better way of putting it.’
Immediately, she wished shehadfound a better way of putting it. Her face flushed at what the phrase implied, and she looked intently at her coffee cup as she tried to will the redness away.
‘A rough time means man trouble, I suppose?’ Rhianne asked, seeming not to have noticed Rosie’s embarrassment. ‘Bad break-up?’
Still reeling from the revelation that Aled had described her as ‘a friend’, Rosie was further thrown by this woman’s directness. She found herself saying, ‘Uh, yeah. My boyfriend dumped me after almost ten years. He swore he hadn’t met anyone else – which I’m now pretty sure was …’ She frowned, searching for the right word. ‘Bullshit.’
Rhianne wrinkled her nose, evidently disgusted. ‘Well,’ she said bracingly as she picked up their empty coffee cups, then put them through a hatch into the kitchen. ‘Let’s hope his knob falls off, shall we?’
Rosie let rip an involuntary peal of laughter. Shelikedthis woman – felt lifted by her no-nonsense positivity – and while working here would no doubt mean busy days and blistered feet, she knew instinctively that it would be fun.
‘So, you’re in then? When can you start?’ Rhianne asked, grinning at her widely.
‘Tomorrow, if you want me,’ Rosie said, smiling back.
Chapter 13
Over the next few days, Rosie worked harder than she had in years. Her new job was physically demanding in a way her role at Cover 4 U had never been – but she loved every minute she spent in the stylish yet homely deli, steaming hot milk, slicing freshly made cakes and serving up mouth-watering salads.
It was a smallish space, but it hadgrace, in Rosie’s eyes. Like its owner, it seemed authentic, unapologetic – justifiably proud of itself. There were exposed brick walls, spaces with dark grey wood panelling and rows of low-hanging pendant lights. If this was the sort of work Rhianne’s preferred builders were capable of, Rosie couldn’t wait to see how they’d transform Mr Bettini’s old flat.
The deli’s furniture was simple and sturdy, with some chairs upholstered in well-worn patterned fabrics and others in leather. None of it matched, but the overall effect was harmonious – and as a self-confessed interiors obsessive, Rosie knew that this required care and judgement.
Bright artwork hung from the walls, and bookshelves dotted here and there displayed dog-eared Penguin Classics. The cups and saucers were handmade, Rosie guessed, and haphazardly glazed in shades of mustard, teal and maroon so they looked like 1970s relics.
It was comfortable here, and Rosie could understand why some of Rhianne’s regulars set up camp for hours, bringing books and laptops with them so they could work in the deli’s cosy, coffee-scented corners. Surrounded by Rhianne’s chatty customers and the rest of the staff team, she felt happier at work than she’d been in … pretty muchever.
Best of all, within a few days of starting at the deli it was clear that Rosie’s bank balance wouldn’t suffer too much for her shift in employment. Rhianne paid her team a decent wage, there were plenty of shifts available and Rosie’s natural friendliness meant she earned extra money in tips. With a little trimming of her budget and perhaps the occasional dip into her savings account, she’d be fine.
She was already popular with her co-workers, too. Marcus, Yaz and Becky had patiently shown her the ropes during her first few days, explaining the various idiosyncrasies of the espresso machine, taking her through the cafe’s opening and closing routines and pointing out which customers were likely to be particular about their orders. She was a quick learner and, as she vaguely remembered writing on several of the job application forms she’d recently filled in, a team player. When Yaz – a shiny-haired twenty-something with an array of arty tattoos – said she was happy Rosie had joined ‘the cafe fam’, Rosie had no trouble believing her.
Rhianne split her time between the kitchen, the counter and the tiny upstairs office, from which she managed ordering, accounts and other necessary paperwork. Within a couple of days of starting at the deli, Rosie had discovered that Aled’s renewed proximity to his cousin was entirely accidental. Rhianne had been living in this part of London for several years, without any inkling there might be a family connection to the area. Aled’s willingness to move into the building he’d inherited was, to some degree, bolstered by the unexpected nearness of someone he considered a close friend as well as a relative.
Rosie could understand this. She liked Rhianne more and more, but also wondered how a single family could have produced two such different people within one generation. She and Aled were like creatures from different planets; his inscrutability was the exact opposite of Rhianne’s plain-speaking openness.
Even though they lived under the same roof and relations between them were cordial, Rosie felt Aled still weighed every word he spoke with precision – either to ensure perfect articulation of meaning, or to avoid giving too much away. On the other hand, Rhianne spoke at a rate even Rosie found hard to keep up with. Words were free and came easily to Rhianne, so she used them in abundance – never afraid of giving an opinion, offering an idea or sharing her thoughts honestly.