Girl Next Door - Alyssa Brugman [64]
'Thirty-eight dollars seventy-five.'
The coffee boy comes over with his notepad. Mum orders a tea for herself and two hot chocolates. After I drink mine I have trouble keeping my eyes open. We take it in turns to lie along the far side of the booth and nap. It feels so good to close my eyes. I'm sure I won't be able to sleep with the hissing of the coffee machine, the cars outside, and people talking so loudly as they walk past, but next thing Mum is nudging me under the table with her foot. I sit up just as the coffee boy comes over.
'Something else?' he asks. Behind him the light through the doorway is greying.
Mum orders another tea.
It's Will's turn to sleep. I sit next to Mum, spinning my pinch pot on the tabletop.
Mum grabs it. 'Stop it. Or you'll drop it and then . . .'
Then I will have nothing in the whole world except the clothes that I'm standing in – and they stink.
I slide out and collect a newspaper from the table by the door. Mum and I split it. I've managed to get the employment section. I turn the pages half-heartedly until I see Mum has the section with the crossword and the sudoku, so I abandon my half and read over her shoulder.
The coffee boy brings us a pen. He slides two cappuccinos across the table.
'We didn't order these,' Mum tells him.
He waves his hand dismissively. 'It's on the house.'
'You are too kind,' Mum says. I think she's going to burst into tears, but she holds it together.
I scoop the chocolate off the top with the spoon and Mum drinks the coffee.
When the streetlights turn off it gets busier. A woman with her hair braided into two long plaits rushes in, hangs up her coat and wraps an apron around her waist. She pushes through the saloon doors behind the coffee machine, and soon plates of bacon and eggs, and toasted sandwiches appear. The waiter takes them to the tables. It smells great and my stomach rumbles.
A lady sits in the booth next to us with a plate of Turkish toast and mushrooms. She sprinkles the top with cracked pepper and then cuts the toast into little wedges. She presses the mushrooms onto the wedges with her fork and then eats the toast with her hands. Some of the mushrooms spill over the edge. The woman lurches over her plate to catch the stray bits.
Mum elbows me. 'Stop staring!'
As soon as she says it I realise that I've been leaning over the table with my mouth hanging open.
Will stirs. When he sits up his hair is all sticky-up and he has a seam down his cheek from where he's been lying on the edge of the cushion.
We give up on the sudoku and Mum flicks through the rest of the paper.
'What time is it?' Mum asks.
I switch on Declan's phone. 'Just after eight.'
She heads off to the QVB to see if the toilets are open yet.
While she's gone, Will and I make up a game. When a new customer comes in we guess how much money they have left in the whole world.
'That guy took a redundancy package and his mother just died.' Will nods towards a paunchy middle-aged man in a navy suit. 'He paid off his house and bought himself an Audi. He still has thirty thousand to invest in shares, but he's waiting for the right moment.'
'No, he has a company car,' I say. 'He bought the Audi for his wife. His daughter started a double degree at Macquarie this year and he's paying for that up-front.'
I watch a woman in her twenties with straight brown hair and a funky dress. 'She's just finished her degree. She still lives in a share house, but she's earning real money for the first time. She's saving up for a new car. She has eight thousand already.'
'She did have eight thousand, but she went to Fiji over the summer with her uni girlfriends, and she spent the rest on shoes,' Will tells me. 'She has three hundred in her account, tops.'
'That guy still lives at home,' I whisper. The thin young man jingles change in his trouser pocket. He wears a tie and has his sleeves rolled up, but he's wearing red suede sneakers. 'He's single, but he's been in love with the same girl in the office for ages. He's too scared to ask her out. He goes