Live the Dream. Josephine Cox
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Amy resigned herself to listening while Daisy chatted on about the ‘Tuesday man’.
Taking a moment to observe this busy, bumbling person she had come to know so well, Amy took in the big brown eyes, the shock of wild auburn hair and the pretty face with its multitude of freckles over a pretty, pert nose. Short and voluptuous, outgoing and friendly, Daisy was once seen never forgotten.
Amy thought of Daisy’s miserable home life, with the constantly feuding parents.
For as long as Amy had known her, Daisy had suffered wretchedly at the hands of her selfish, boorish parents. Their noisy, sometimes violent, arguments, often fuelled by drink, meant that Daisy could never invite Amy to her home. In Mrs Tooley’s fuggy little café, Daisy could escape the unhappiness of her home by chatting with the customers, teasing and joking with the friendly regulars, and even flirting a little with the men. In this way, Daisy could create some much-needed fun in her life.
‘Look, Daisy … don’t get too infatuated with your Tuesday man,’ Amy warned. ‘If he’d wanted you to know who he is, I’m sure he would have told you.’
‘But he wants to talk,’ Daisy confided, ‘I can tell that much. Sometimes he looks so sad, and sometimes he smiles at me and I want to sit next to him like I’m sitting next to you, only he looks away, just when I think I’m getting through to him.’
Amy shook her head. ‘Maybe he’s not such a “mystery”,’ she said quietly. ‘Maybe he comes in here because he lives alone and needs to be amongst people. Or maybe he comes in here because he’s got a wife and ten children and he can’t get any peace at home. Either way, if he needs to be quiet and alone for whatever reason, it’s his choice and you should respect that.’
Casting a sideways glance out at the man, Amy sensed his loneliness. Daisy was right: he was a mystery – always preoccupied, head bent to his newspaper, while not seeming to be actually reading it. Instead he appeared to be deep in thought. Sometimes he would raise his head and gaze out of the window, before eventually returning to his newspaper or thoughtfully sipping his tea.
He never looked at the other customers; in fact it was as though he was totally oblivious to them. It was a curious thing.
‘What are you thinking?’ Daisy’s voice cut through her thoughts.
Amy looked up, her voice quiet as she answered, ‘I just think he deserves to be left alone.’ She smiled fondly at the other young woman. ‘Not everybody’s like you, Daisy,’ she pointed out. ‘Some people really do like their own company.’
Daisy shifted her gaze to the man. For a long moment she didn’t say anything, but there was a troubled look in her eyes.
‘Daisy, are you all right?’ Reaching out, Amy closed her hand over Daisy’s. ‘Has something happened at home?’
Daisy shook her head. ‘It’s the same,’ she confided with a sad little smile, ‘always the same.’ Drawing away her hand she added brightly, ‘Here’s me chatting away and you cold and famished. Sorry, love. I’ll go an’ get yer breakfast.’
‘But something’s wrong, isn’t it?’ Amy had learned to read the signs. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Daisy shook her head.
‘All right, but I’m a good listener if you need me.’
Daisy gave that little smile again. ‘I know that.’ With a roll of her eyes, she looked over to where the man was closing his newspaper. ‘If only a man like that could sweep me up and carry me off, it would solve everything.’
‘Oh, Daisy. You can’t mean that!’
‘Why not?’
‘Well …’
Amy took another discreet look at him. He was certainly handsome, there was no denying that, with his long easy limbs, fine sensual lips and that dark brown tumble of hair. Once, when he looked up at the clock over the counter, Amy had caught sight of his dark, brooding eyes. There was something about him that stirred the senses.
‘Hey!’ Daisy gave her a prod. ‘You were saying …?’
Ashamed and startled at her own thoughts, Amy returned, ‘I just don’t think it would solve your problems to run off with some stranger and, besides, like you said yourself, you don’t know the first thing about him.’
‘But if he carried me off, I’d soon find out, wouldn’t I? Anyway, what’s to know? He pays his bill with proper money, and he always treats me with respect. Leaves a tip he does, and smiles up at me when I serve him.’ She gave a girlish giggle. ‘Anyway, even if it turned out he was some sort of rogue, he’s so good-looking it wouldn’t matter a bugger! A man like that … I could forgive him anything!’
Amy was alarmed. ‘You’re too trusting.’
‘And you’re too bloody suspicious!’
Amy changed tack. ‘I’m also cold and hungry, and I’ve changed my mind about the barm cake. I fancy a hot meat-and-tatty pie … with a helping of mushy peas and a dollop of that awful gravy you make.’
Daisy bounced over to the fridge. ‘Don’t get cheeky, lass,’ she wagged a warning finger, ‘or I might refuse to serve you. In fact, I might shut up shop and lock myself in … with him!’ She winked as she went. ‘And it’s no good you getting jealous, ’cos I’m the manager here and what I say goes.’ With that she sauntered off to open a tin of peas and suddenly, softly started to sing.
‘Whatever makes you happy,’ Amy chuckled, resuming a seat at her table.
She looked across at the man and when he unexpectedly smiled at her, her heart took a leap. For what seemed an age he held her gaze before turning away.
Confused and embarrassed, she fumbled in her shopping bag. Drawing out this month’s Woman and Home, she opened it up and spreading it across the table, pretended to read. In her mind’s eye she saw his smile, soft and friendly, reaching out to her … and those wonderful dark eyes! Daisy was right. He was devilishly handsome, and yet, there was such sadness about him – a kind of lost look that had touched her deeply.
‘What you got there?’ Daisy was back. Placing Amy’s order in front of her, she turned the page of the magazine. ‘Heck! Look at that!’ Pointing to the elegant model in centre-page, she called Amy’s attention to the blue spotted dress with thick belt and flared hem, ‘How much!’ Her look of rapture turned to one of horror. ‘One and ten! I’d have to work a whole month before I could buy that!’
Amy wasn’t listening. Something else had alerted her. Strangely uneasy, she turned to see the man looking straight at her again. He held her gaze for a second or two, then he stood up and walked towards the door with long easy strides. ‘I think your mystery man is leaving,’ Amy told Daisy quietly.
‘What!’ Looking up, Daisy saw the door close behind him. ‘Damn! He always does that to me!’
Amy tutted mischievously. ‘What? You mean he sneaks off without paying?’
‘No, you daft ha’pporth!’ Daisy groaned. ‘He always leaves his money on the table. I wish he’d pay at the counter, then I might get chance to quiz him a bit.’
Amy’s curious gaze followed him as he went past the window and away down the street. ‘Maybe next time,’ she said quietly. ‘But I wouldn’t count on it if I were you.’ Because there was a man who had a lot on his mind, she thought, and he wasn’t about to share his secrets with anyone at Tooley’s Café.
Just then two more customers arrived, a middle-aged woman with a younger woman who, judging by the argument going on, appeared to be her daughter. ‘What in God’s name d’yer think you’re playing at?’ demanded the older woman. ‘By! If your dad knew, he’d hit the roof!’
‘I don’t give a bugger what he says!’ snapped the younger woman. ‘It’s