need to tell
him any of that as of today. The last thing I want is for him to
pay a surprise visit there and check up on me for old time’s sake.
What would I tell Grace? And anyway, it’s only going to be for a
few weeks, so I swallow the words.
‘I hear the volunteer
self-defence classes are going well.’
‘I’ve had to postpone them this
week.’ I point to my face. ‘But next week I’ll carry on.’
‘The Women’s Centre is getting
good feedback about them.’
‘Good. I’m glad I can help
them.’
‘Anything else to report before
I sign you off?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘OK, then.’ Mark stands, giving
me a warm smile, and reaches out his hand for me to shake. ‘Good
luck with the rest of your life, Ben.’
21
GRACE
I critically appraise myself in
the mirror as I apply my makeup. When I finish, I stand back and
stare.
I’m trying to work up to saying
the words aloud, but they don’t feel right.
Come on. How hard can it be to
say a few stupid words?
I hurl my mascara across the
floor.
Just say it!
I look at my reflection and
laugh. It’s hollow and echoing. It makes me sound crazy.
‘I love myself,’ I whisper.
The girl who stares back at me
doesn’t believe it. She’s mocking me with her eyes. Maybe I’m not
ready for this part yet.
‘You can do this,’ I say.
The girl nods back at me.
‘You can do this. You can
survive. One step at a time, Grace.’ I inhale deeply. ‘I love you,’
I say, louder. ‘I love you.’
The girl in the mirror gives a
barely-there smile. It’s a start.
~~~~
By the time Ben arrives at the
shop, I’ve almost sold out of food in the display counter, and I’m
getting ready to bring in a new batch from the kitchen.
‘Hey.’ He smiles, his presence
filling up the counter behind me.
‘Hey, yourself.’
A young woman in her early
twenties interrupts us. ‘Can I have a caramel latte, a cup of tea,
and two scones?’
‘Coming right up,’ he says to
her.
Her eyes follow his movements
with appreciation, and I feel a twinge of something I don’t
recognize.
She sits at the table with her
friend, and they’re obviously talking about Ben. They keep looking
over at him and whispering to each other, but he doesn’t seem to
notice the attention. Looking like he does, he must get it all the
time.
Neither of us gets time for a
proper break, but at one p.m., Ben gives me a prawn and mayo
baguette that he’s made. The way he’s taken time to prepare
something for me makes my eyes water with gratitude. It’s only a
simple thing, but it’s so kind of him.
It takes me five minutes to eat
it in the office, and by the time I come out the queue hasn’t died
down, so I get back to work.
He pours an espresso into a
take-out cup, and next to him, I fill an order for another
customer. He leans in close to me and whispers, ‘You’ve got a crumb
on the side of your mouth.’
I surprise myself by not
flinching at his proximity. He’s talking about a crumb, but the
moment feels intimate somehow, our faces only inches apart as we
work. I smell faint traces of spicy aftershave and soap and
something minty. I inhale his scent, trying to breathe him into
me.
I giggle. Yes, I actually
giggle. For some reason it’s funny, because it’s so sweet of him to
tell me. ‘Thanks,’ I whisper back.
‘You’re welcome.’ He turns back
to hand over the coffee to the waiting customer.
~~~~
I turn the open sign to closed,
and he’s already behind the counter, making us hot chocolate. It
seems to have become our after-work ritual, and it beats any of the
other ones I’ve done so far, like checking the locks.
I sit in my usual seat and watch
him work. The way his lower lip juts out slightly as he
concentrates. How he moves with a relaxed sureness about him.
He lifts his head and catches me
watching him. My cheeks heat up, and I avert my gaze to the
window.
‘Busy day.’ He sits down
opposite me and puts the drinks on the
him any of that as of today. The last thing I want is for him to
pay a surprise visit there and check up on me for old time’s sake.
What would I tell Grace? And anyway, it’s only going to be for a
few weeks, so I swallow the words.
‘I hear the volunteer
self-defence classes are going well.’
‘I’ve had to postpone them this
week.’ I point to my face. ‘But next week I’ll carry on.’
‘The Women’s Centre is getting
good feedback about them.’
‘Good. I’m glad I can help
them.’
‘Anything else to report before
I sign you off?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘OK, then.’ Mark stands, giving
me a warm smile, and reaches out his hand for me to shake. ‘Good
luck with the rest of your life, Ben.’
21
GRACE
I critically appraise myself in
the mirror as I apply my makeup. When I finish, I stand back and
stare.
I’m trying to work up to saying
the words aloud, but they don’t feel right.
Come on. How hard can it be to
say a few stupid words?
I hurl my mascara across the
floor.
Just say it!
I look at my reflection and
laugh. It’s hollow and echoing. It makes me sound crazy.
‘I love myself,’ I whisper.
The girl who stares back at me
doesn’t believe it. She’s mocking me with her eyes. Maybe I’m not
ready for this part yet.
‘You can do this,’ I say.
The girl nods back at me.
‘You can do this. You can
survive. One step at a time, Grace.’ I inhale deeply. ‘I love you,’
I say, louder. ‘I love you.’
The girl in the mirror gives a
barely-there smile. It’s a start.
~~~~
By the time Ben arrives at the
shop, I’ve almost sold out of food in the display counter, and I’m
getting ready to bring in a new batch from the kitchen.
‘Hey.’ He smiles, his presence
filling up the counter behind me.
‘Hey, yourself.’
A young woman in her early
twenties interrupts us. ‘Can I have a caramel latte, a cup of tea,
and two scones?’
‘Coming right up,’ he says to
her.
Her eyes follow his movements
with appreciation, and I feel a twinge of something I don’t
recognize.
She sits at the table with her
friend, and they’re obviously talking about Ben. They keep looking
over at him and whispering to each other, but he doesn’t seem to
notice the attention. Looking like he does, he must get it all the
time.
Neither of us gets time for a
proper break, but at one p.m., Ben gives me a prawn and mayo
baguette that he’s made. The way he’s taken time to prepare
something for me makes my eyes water with gratitude. It’s only a
simple thing, but it’s so kind of him.
It takes me five minutes to eat
it in the office, and by the time I come out the queue hasn’t died
down, so I get back to work.
He pours an espresso into a
take-out cup, and next to him, I fill an order for another
customer. He leans in close to me and whispers, ‘You’ve got a crumb
on the side of your mouth.’
I surprise myself by not
flinching at his proximity. He’s talking about a crumb, but the
moment feels intimate somehow, our faces only inches apart as we
work. I smell faint traces of spicy aftershave and soap and
something minty. I inhale his scent, trying to breathe him into
me.
I giggle. Yes, I actually
giggle. For some reason it’s funny, because it’s so sweet of him to
tell me. ‘Thanks,’ I whisper back.
‘You’re welcome.’ He turns back
to hand over the coffee to the waiting customer.
~~~~
I turn the open sign to closed,
and he’s already behind the counter, making us hot chocolate. It
seems to have become our after-work ritual, and it beats any of the
other ones I’ve done so far, like checking the locks.
I sit in my usual seat and watch
him work. The way his lower lip juts out slightly as he
concentrates. How he moves with a relaxed sureness about him.
He lifts his head and catches me
watching him. My cheeks heat up, and I avert my gaze to the
window.
‘Busy day.’ He sits down
opposite me and puts the drinks on the
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