[and I'm standing on ice when I say...]
Day 9, mid-afternoon
I had a dream last night. Dreaming isn't notable for me - but the content of the dream was. Normally I dream...terrible things. Terrible familiar things. Or I don't dream at all. Or, very occasionally, I dream about my parents. I think those dreams are worse than the nightmares, because I wake up happy.
Last night's dream was different, though.
After leaving the cafe yesterday, I found it hard to settle. I had this strange fluttering in my stomach. I wondered if I was getting sick. But for some reason I kept thinking of the way Jamie smiled at me when he left the cafe. And then I thought about the way Wanda looked at him, like she could eat him up with a dessert fork like one of the cakes in her cafe. And then I would get restless and pace up and down the store, constantly rearranging things on the shelves. I even redid the window display, which isn't anything fancy at all, but I restacked the honey display jars and the empty tins marked with different foodstuffs two or three times.
And then I had this dream, and I woke up happy, and unlike my usual happy dreams, I didn't feel this pang of loss when I woke up. Because this happy dream wasn't about anything that had happened and has now gone. It was about going for a picnic. That's all. A picnic accompanied by the sweet drone of bees humming.
I'd been in a good mood all this morning. I'm usually cheerful with my customers, but I must have been particularly sunny, as everyone seemed to comment on it. Maybe it was because I was wearing one of my summer blouses. It just seemed like a good day to wear it. Molly once told me she thought it made my hair look like her brother's honey, and for some reason thinking that makes me smile and drop Mr Booth's change on the counter.
Mid-afternoon things got quite quiet, as they tend to do, so I settled down to have a cup of tea, only to find that my favourite blend was gone. Well, the tea shop is just across the road - I don't try to stock anything but a very basic black tea in the store, since Wanda has everything covered - so I quickly flipped the CLOSED sign over and hurried over the road.
I groaned inwardly as I saw Mrs Wilson and her daughters talking animatedly as I approached. They are nice ladies, but it's impossible not to get drawn into discussion with them. So I braced myself for a very extended 'hello' when I approached them.
'Mrs Wilson, Edith, Amanda,' I smiled. I know they'll never notice my exasperation the way someone like Glass would - they're always too caught up in what they are doing to notice how other people feel. I don't think they are bad women for all that - they just aren't observant, at least not of anything not involving gossip. There are worse sins.
'Kate, lovely to see you, my dear!' said Mrs Wilson. 'Where are you headed? Isn't the store still open?'
'Oh, of course,' I smiled. 'But I'm dreadfully parched, so I thought I would pop into the Dormouse and see if Wanda has any new fruit teas.' At that Edith and Amanda exchanged looks and smirked.
'I wouldn't go in there now, Kate,' said Edith. 'Wanda is... busy.'
'What do you mean?' I asked. Edith and Amanda exchanged looks again, and I felt my stomach clench for reasons I couldn't explain.
'Oh, it seems Wanda has a new beau,' said Amanda, tossing her brown curls. 'I thought he'd have better taste.'
'Shh, girls,' said Mrs Wilson reprovingly. 'We shouldn't talk about this on the street. It's not ladylike.' Like Mrs Wilson had ever worried about that. At least Amanda and Edith are honest about their love of gossip.
'Who's her beau?' I asked.
'Jamie Kincaid,' said Edith bitterly. 'She kissed him right in front of us - which isn't very professional considering she was meant to be serving us.'
'Oh,' is all I said, feeling blood roar in my ears.
Somehow I managed to finish the conversation, and I don't think they thought anything was wrong. Numbly I walked back to the store, and automatically turned the OPEN sign back round. Mechanically I walked to the counter and sat down behind it. There was a dull ache in my chest, like I'd swallowed a stone, and quite unexpectedly I found myself bursting into tears.
*
In the storeroom of the store there is a sink, and so I splash my face and stare into the little mirror above the sink. My eyes look a little red, and my skin is a little blotchy, but I'll pass. I take a deep breath. I've been ridiculous. I already know that someone like me can't have a relationship, and I've known for years that Jamie isn't the marrying kind. So where did those tears come from?
I head back into the store and sit back down. I've got another hour or so before the store closes. I can get through that.
[open]
I had a dream last night. Dreaming isn't notable for me - but the content of the dream was. Normally I dream...terrible things. Terrible familiar things. Or I don't dream at all. Or, very occasionally, I dream about my parents. I think those dreams are worse than the nightmares, because I wake up happy.
Last night's dream was different, though.
After leaving the cafe yesterday, I found it hard to settle. I had this strange fluttering in my stomach. I wondered if I was getting sick. But for some reason I kept thinking of the way Jamie smiled at me when he left the cafe. And then I thought about the way Wanda looked at him, like she could eat him up with a dessert fork like one of the cakes in her cafe. And then I would get restless and pace up and down the store, constantly rearranging things on the shelves. I even redid the window display, which isn't anything fancy at all, but I restacked the honey display jars and the empty tins marked with different foodstuffs two or three times.
And then I had this dream, and I woke up happy, and unlike my usual happy dreams, I didn't feel this pang of loss when I woke up. Because this happy dream wasn't about anything that had happened and has now gone. It was about going for a picnic. That's all. A picnic accompanied by the sweet drone of bees humming.
I'd been in a good mood all this morning. I'm usually cheerful with my customers, but I must have been particularly sunny, as everyone seemed to comment on it. Maybe it was because I was wearing one of my summer blouses. It just seemed like a good day to wear it. Molly once told me she thought it made my hair look like her brother's honey, and for some reason thinking that makes me smile and drop Mr Booth's change on the counter.
Mid-afternoon things got quite quiet, as they tend to do, so I settled down to have a cup of tea, only to find that my favourite blend was gone. Well, the tea shop is just across the road - I don't try to stock anything but a very basic black tea in the store, since Wanda has everything covered - so I quickly flipped the CLOSED sign over and hurried over the road.
I groaned inwardly as I saw Mrs Wilson and her daughters talking animatedly as I approached. They are nice ladies, but it's impossible not to get drawn into discussion with them. So I braced myself for a very extended 'hello' when I approached them.
'Mrs Wilson, Edith, Amanda,' I smiled. I know they'll never notice my exasperation the way someone like Glass would - they're always too caught up in what they are doing to notice how other people feel. I don't think they are bad women for all that - they just aren't observant, at least not of anything not involving gossip. There are worse sins.
'Kate, lovely to see you, my dear!' said Mrs Wilson. 'Where are you headed? Isn't the store still open?'
'Oh, of course,' I smiled. 'But I'm dreadfully parched, so I thought I would pop into the Dormouse and see if Wanda has any new fruit teas.' At that Edith and Amanda exchanged looks and smirked.
'I wouldn't go in there now, Kate,' said Edith. 'Wanda is... busy.'
'What do you mean?' I asked. Edith and Amanda exchanged looks again, and I felt my stomach clench for reasons I couldn't explain.
'Oh, it seems Wanda has a new beau,' said Amanda, tossing her brown curls. 'I thought he'd have better taste.'
'Shh, girls,' said Mrs Wilson reprovingly. 'We shouldn't talk about this on the street. It's not ladylike.' Like Mrs Wilson had ever worried about that. At least Amanda and Edith are honest about their love of gossip.
'Who's her beau?' I asked.
'Jamie Kincaid,' said Edith bitterly. 'She kissed him right in front of us - which isn't very professional considering she was meant to be serving us.'
'Oh,' is all I said, feeling blood roar in my ears.
Somehow I managed to finish the conversation, and I don't think they thought anything was wrong. Numbly I walked back to the store, and automatically turned the OPEN sign back round. Mechanically I walked to the counter and sat down behind it. There was a dull ache in my chest, like I'd swallowed a stone, and quite unexpectedly I found myself bursting into tears.
*
In the storeroom of the store there is a sink, and so I splash my face and stare into the little mirror above the sink. My eyes look a little red, and my skin is a little blotchy, but I'll pass. I take a deep breath. I've been ridiculous. I already know that someone like me can't have a relationship, and I've known for years that Jamie isn't the marrying kind. So where did those tears come from?
I head back into the store and sit back down. I've got another hour or so before the store closes. I can get through that.
[open]