Page 14 of The Big Dip in Crumbleton
‘Where is everyone, by the way?’ she said, wandering back towards the table with a plate loaded with a chocolate croissant and a pain aux raisin. ‘I thought it would be busier with the swim today.’
Pete cocked his head, listening intently, and then checked his watch. ‘Hold that thought for about five more seconds…’
‘Huh?’ murmured Scarlett through a mouthful of pastry.
As if on cue, the café doors swung open, and what seemed like a tidal wave of people started to pour in.
Most of them were already dressed in swimming costumes, barely disguised by hastily pulled-on tracksuit bottoms or loose t-shirts. The empty café went from peaceful to packed in a matter of seconds.
Pete glanced over at Libby. She was frozen behind the counter, her eyes wide with alarm as she took in the sudden influx of customers. She looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
‘Oh, blimey,’ Pete muttered. He turned to Scarlett with an apologetic smile. ‘Enjoy your breakfast—I’d better go help my sister before she has a meltdown.’
He reluctantly tore himself away from his cosy corner table with Scarlett and hurried over to the counter. Grabbing an apron, he yanked it over his head and swiftly tied the strings around his waist.
Libby shot him a look of relief.
‘You take the orders,’ he said. ‘I’ll handle the coffee machine.’
‘What about the food?’ said Libby, a slight tremble in her voice.
‘We’ll figure that out as we go. With any luck, most of them will want to wait until after their swim!’
Even with the pair of them working flat out, it didn’t take long for things to start spiralling out of control. The queue stretched right across the café, and customers kept piling in through the door. The room was full of chatter and laughter as people shouted greetings and caught up while they waited to be served.
Pete did his best to keep up, but the old coffee machine was temperamental at the best of times, and he was far from an expert. He fumbled with the frother, cursing under his breath as it sprayed hot milk across the counter and down the front of his apron.
‘Need a hand?’
He looked up to find Scarlett watching him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. Pete hesitated, not wanting to drag her into the chaos, but another glance at the ever-growing queue made the decision for him.
‘Do you know how to use one of these?’ he muttered, gesturing at the machine. To his surprise, Scarlett nodded.
‘I worked as a barista all the way through university,’ she said, taking off her cardigan and stashing it under the counter like she’d worked there for years. ‘Do you have a spare apron?’
Pete quickly grabbed her one and did his best not to stare at the smooth expanse of toned stomach that made a brief appearance as she slipped it over her head.
‘You sure about this?’ he said, running his fingers through his hair.
‘Of course,’ said Scarlett. ‘Shift over.’
‘You’re a lifesaver,’ he said, getting out of the way.
‘Hold that thought until we see if I can remember how to do this!’ she laughed. ‘Okay, for starters, you’ve got it set too hot,’ she said, adjusting a dial.
Within a few minutes, Scarlett had taken full command of the machine. Her movements were sure and practised as she ground beans, tamped them down, frothed milk and churned out coffee variations with the confidence of a seasoned professional. Pete found himself oddly mesmerised by her efficiency, and for several minutes he just stood there staring.
‘Maybe you should take over from Libby and take the orders?’ said Scarlett, turning to smile at him before nodding over at his sister, who was now bright red in the face. ‘I’ll handle the coffees, and maybe Libby can sort out cakes and food, and wait on the tables. We’ll get through the queue faster that way.’
‘Good plan,’ said Pete, blinking stupidly as he surfaced from his trance. He quickly headed over to the till, earning himself a grateful hug from an overwhelmed Libby.
As the three of them worked together, they fell into a surprisingly effective rhythm, even though Pete kept stealing glances at Scarlett whenever he passed her an order. There was something decidedly odd going on. She looked so natural behind the coffee machine, bantering with his little sister as she collected coffee after coffee, that it felt like he’d known her forever.
‘She’s good,’ said Libby, bouncing up for another trayful of coffees to deliver. ‘Where did you find her?’
‘I didn’t find her,’ said Pete. ‘She’s the swimmer staying in my hut for the weekend.’
‘And now she’s running our café?’ Libby raised an eyebrow. ‘You know, you’ve been back in Crumbleton Sands for nearly a year, and this is the first time I’ve seen you look at anyone like that.’
