23
On Monday Hannah kept me hard at work all day. I couldn’t complain, because she always put in at least as much effort as me. Admittedly it was her café, and she stood to benefit from any profit we made, whereas for me it was only a job, and not a particularly desirable one at that, as my mother liked to remind me. But Hannah had been a good friend to me, and the position suited me perfectly. At least for the time being, I had no incentive to look elsewhere. Monday was generally a fairly quiet day, and between customers we scraped and polished the oven and hob and scrubbed every surface in the kitchen, from top to bottom, until every worktop, cupboard and hob was gleaming and the floor tiles shone. I was pleased we were too busy to sit and chat, because I wasn’t sure whether to tell Han
