The Unexpected
It was the usual, typical, daily grind in the Lancaster high street, a perpetual motion, the hiss of espresso machine as the beating heart of the Americana Café – for Rosie, 27, with a cascade of dark, heavy hair and bright blue eyes that held a quiet reserve, her movements swift and agile within her compact work space, she used it as a shield against the world at large.
On the Monday morning as the main doors of the high street began to swing open, things would begin slow; but, by 11:30 things were in full flow, the door of the Americana Café swinging open constantly, the noise of the bell so frequent it had become background noise for Rosie as she moved with a practised ballet, slender arms weaving between the steaming milk pitchers and the overflowing till tray “Two lattes, one oat and another with extra shot for Vincent” Rosie called out, her voice soft yet clear, though, it took a conscious effort as of late, it had only been a couple of months since leaving hospital, the adjustment was still a bit unusual
“Alright miss perfect!” Thomas called from the grinder station, his sleeve wiping sweat from his brow – Thomas was harmless, a big bearded man who would occasional tease Rosie about her meticulous tidiness, but, his banter was rooted in affection – Rosi glanced back, offering a quick, genuine smile, the kind she only gave to people she felt safe with
As the week would melt into a blur of identical days; the Americana was a deluge – a slum that was expected was countered that week with the addition of freshly baked goods, new additions to the usual, and by the 3PM of Thursday during the quiet stretch of her shift, she ventured from behind the counter to begun scrubbing and cleaning, enjoying the silence as the end of her shift slowly approached – it was a comforting routine, predictable and safe.
Though, that Thursday it would feel threatened – the doors opened, letting in a blast of cool air as a woman stepped inside, tall and quiet imposing by her fierce expression, dressed in navy trousers and a crisp white shirt; this, was Jenny.
Jenny, at 33, her features sharp and defined, framed by neat, dark hair purposely rolled upwards at the back, drew Rosie’s attention as she made her way towards the counter; quickly, Rosie moved, rushing to get there, as she reached the counter, her eyes meeting this new arrival, she saw the utterly serious expression – a silent, concentrated gaze that settled unsettling onto Rosie’s face.
Rosie could usually assess a customers order by their movement, the way they carried themselves – here though, she felt her professional mask slip, her heart suddenly irregular as it beat against her ribs, this was not the usual distracted office worker or the cheerful elderly regular – Jenny looked like she was conducting a psychological evaluation.
Rosie was immediately anxious; she recognised that intense look – a look so often of someone trying to reconcile what they saw with what they expected, a look of judgement “Can…Can I help you?” Rosie stammered, her voice a little rapid eliciting a subtle shift within Jenny’s expression
“Flat White, Large to take away” Jenny stated, her voice surprisingly low and even, utterly devoid of inflection – she offered no further small talk, just watched Rosie’s hands as she worked, Rosie’s fingers fumbling slightly as she calibrated the shot
‘Don’t Shake, Don’t Shake’ she pleaded with herself mentally; she was convinced Jenny had clocked her, perhaps waiting to see if she would make a mistake, or if her voice waved enough to confirm an assumption
Sliding the takeaway cup across the counter with relief, Rosie looked at Jenny once again “That um.., that will be Four-Twenty please”
Jenny paid; thanking with a curt nod, taking the coffee and turning away, but to Rosie’s surprise – she didn’t leave, she instead slid into a window booth, sitting in silence, nursing the large flat white, turning her serious gaze towards the bustling street, yet somehow, Rosie still felt the weight of her observation still.
Rosie would spend the next 45 Minutes wiping down tables that didn’t require a clean down, sneaking worried glances at the booth; Jenny though, would finish her drink, placing the empty cup into the bin as she left without as much as a second backwards glance – the relieve was immense for Rosie, who would not have much longer to wait before the end of her shift.
On the Friday, once again during those final push of Rosie’s shift, Jenny would arrive a second time – precisely the exact same time as the previous day, and just as with Thursday, she would order the same drink, maintain that same impenetrable expression – the exact same silence and took up the same seat by the window – it was a pattern that became routine, so often now that Rosie began to dread the Thursday, Friday and the Saturday after the first two weeks – she was accustom to ignoring the general distraction, yet Jenny, her presence felt like a spotlight, specifically aimed at her vulnerabilities.
‘What was she waiting for’ Rosie thought ‘Why does she keep following the same pattern without fail’ Rosie couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman was building up the courage to say something; perhaps something awful, perhaps to complain when Rosie would finally have an off moment – it was gnawing at Rosie, leaving her increasingly anxious and worried
By week 4; Rosie, now on a late shift, a purposeful attempt to try evading Jenny’s scrutiny, would encounter her yet again, it had come with a purposeful alteration of timing after Jenny had first took notice of the different time on the Thursday – this time though, the Saturday evening would prove very different, not only would Jenny arrive later, arriving during the waning period the opening hours, there was far fewer people than usual.
When Jenny came in that evening though, she was dressed very different; it was no business wear, but a crisp white uniform with Korean lettering adorning the back that was only visible when she took of her sweat jacket, around her waist was a tightly tied Black belt, her hair pulled back severely, her usual expression far more serious, seemingly amplified by the precision of her attire – but it was only the clothes and late arrival that changed that evening, but her order – this time, she had requested a chamomile tea, sitting directly at the counter, though her gaze was directed down at her drink.
Rosie watched her carefully as she began to wipe down the counter, purposely avoiding Jenny to not disturb her – then, the door burst open.
A new customer; a large man, perhaps his early fifties, he filled the doorway, aggressively built and red-faced smelling faintly of stale beer and clearly in a foul-mood.
“Get me an espresso!” he snapped aggressively “I ain’t got all night love!” he grumbled as she slammed his hand down against the counter, a slapping sound that would draw not only the small number of customers already present, but a subtle shift in Jenny’s posture, her head shifting ever so slightly as if to size up before her eyes returned to her drink.
“Certainly” Rosie answered, a hesitant shift in her voice as she took in a deep breath “Just a moment place”
“Hold on” he muttered; his voice now thick with malicious amusement “That voice; it’s a little rough ain’t it, funny…, I thought you was a proper little dish until you spoke”
Rosie froze – a familiar, icy dread washed over her, making the small hairs on her arms stand on end; she knew exactly where this was about to go, she kept her back to him, a subtle tremor shivering her body as she focused intensely on the expresso machine, now trying to make herself as small and invisible as possible
“J.., Just the Expresso Sir” she stuttered; trying to steady her voice through sheer force of will “Four pounds please”
“Cut the crap out mate; drop the act” the hostile customer sneered, louder this time drawing glances “Always knew that there was something off about your lot, trying to trick people eh?, not natural” he told her, a vile, poison laced tone
Rosie felt her cheeks flush hot, her body’s trembling worsening as she felt that surge of emotion bubbling up, it was never easy to deal with this kind of hatred – and with Mark and Thomas gone, and her other colleague; Chloe in the back restocking, oblivious to what was happening, she was completely alone with the aggressor and the quiet glances of customers that she knew wouldn’t step in; she was yet to put the cup down, fingers tightening around it as she felt her breathing pick up faster, she didn’t know what to do; she couldn’t retreat – offering apologies for merely existing would do little, but she new he would certainly not be in much of a rush to leave
“Please…, could you refrain from speaking to me like that…, it’s against policy to speak….” She stuttered heavily, her voice barely finding strength above a whisper
“Can’t hear you very well” he stated aggressively, leaning and gesturing to his ear – he was enjoying her struggling attempt to maintain her composure “Speak up ‘Lad’ find a back bone eh?” he spat, his gaze narrowing as he returned his full gaze onto her
“I…, I…” Rosie’s voice trembled, she knew she was going to cry the longer the humiliation went on
“Enough”
The command was like an agitated vipers hiss that cut over not just Rosie trembled stammering, but over the aggressive tension of the hostile bloke that drew attention instantly
Rosie flinched, a startled shift in her gaze that was beginning to get blurry – Jenny has moved, she was halfway from her seat, perched like a predator, dark eyes blazing with a sudden, stunning rage that Rosie had never imagined possible behind such a placid exterior, that white uniform now like armour
The man looked at her, momentarily tunned by the interruption “Who the hell are you?; mind your own business love”
Jenny purposely pushed herself fully of the stool, moving with a fluid, terrifying motion with just step steps, positioning herself forcefully between the aggressive customer and Rosie “You get a kick out of humiliating people, back off; now!” she snapped, her voice no longer even, but sharp, commanding and dangerous “Pay for you damn drink, shut it and get out, not difficult, what happened to this belief of ‘If You have nothing Nice to say, then don’t speak at all’?”
The man puffed his chest, and sensing the audience, he was more than prepared to escalate – as the larger figure he now focused on Jenny “Or what little lass; gonna throw a fit at me, I am talking to him” he gestured forwards, towards Rosie and made an effort to push Jenny aside
Jenny didn’t hesitate; with a quick, powerful thrust forwards, her hand shot forwards, hitting heavily at the centre of his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs and forcing him to stumble backwards; within that tight space, purposely using her foot to brace against the counter, she had delivered a powerful strike using all of her body in one display as she struck the sternum, it was not a shove, but a purposely targeted jolt that forced him to stumble back three steps “She!” she snapped “And your scaring the poor girl”
Shocked, he was much more furious than just a moment earlier, his temper rising significantly as he began advancing forwards, fists clenched.
Jenny, she stood her ground, feet planted in a wide, supportive posture that was recognisable for its coiled deceptiveness, she was more than prepared to lash out with much more aggression, she didn’t raise her hands in preparation to fight though, instead rose a rigid finger to point at the door “I am a licensed instructor in self-defence” she stated, her voice icy and controlled, each word a threat “Leave this establishment, or I will have you removed by police if you want to escalate this further, your choice”
Glancing about, he noticed that someone near was sat with their phone at the ready, his gaze returned momentarily to Jenny – her serious face glaring at him, then, his eyes found Rosie who stood frozen behind the counter – the air had gone from his inflated aggression – mumbling a weak curse under his breath, he glared at them both before turning on his heels and storming off, slamming the door on his way out.
Rosie just stared, vision still blurring as the tension finally began to settle, her hands shaking violently as she tried to brace against the counter – Jenny, turning to look at her softened her gaze for the first time, a look of concern, gentle even “Are you alright?” Jenny asked, her volume returning to a normal tone, though command was still subtly present
Rosie gave a shaky nod, taking a moment to find her voice “Y-Yes” using her sleeve, she deliberately wiped her eyes, the movement rough “Thank you; I don’t know what I would have done” she whispered, voice shaking
Jenny watched her, offering a small shrug as she picked up her jacket from the stool, pulling it on “Would you like to go sit down, maybe get a little air?”
Rosie shook her head a moment – her gaze finally returning towards Jenny, she felt a profound relief and unexpected warmth that washed over her as she looked at Jenny – the serious, imposing woman she had been afraid of for the past few weeks, now she saw only a steadfast, protective kindness “Can I offer you anything; another tea perhaps…, anything at all?” she queried, slowly regaining control of her voice “I’ll pay for it, it’ll be on me”
There was a shift within that moment, Jenny leaned forwards against the counter, her expression returning to its usual competitiveness state, but, the edges of her mouth curved up slightly into the smallest, most charming smile Rosie had ever beheld – it completely transformed jenny’s face, revealing a genuine warmth that melted Rosie’s fears entirely “Actually Rosie” she said, using her name for the first time – the sound of it sending a pleasant shiver down Rosie’s spine “There is something I have been coming in here for, for the past few weeks”
Rosie blinked, momentarily confused “Oh?; what is it, we’re out of almond croissants I think…, but…”
“Your number” Jenny clarified, her smile widening slightly “That is what I have been hoping for, but I kept losing my nerve”
Rosie stared, her blue eyes wide with surprise – the anxiety she had felt completely dissolved into a bright, unexpected joy; all that fear of perceived judgement, had just been shyness – it had been attraction, Rosie let out a small, nervous laugh “Oh…, Oh, right”
Rosie felt a sense of giddy relief, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, her hand flowing steadier – she wrote both her name and mobile number, drawing a tiny, if slightly wobbly heart next to the last digit – when she slid the paper over to jenny, Jenny took it carefully, folding it neatly into the pocket of her jacket, their eyes meeting over the counter and this time, the exchange was long, mutual and perfectly comfortable “Ill call you tomorrow” Jenny promised, voice laced with warmth
“I look forward to it” Rosie replied truthfully, feeling a lightness she hadn’t realised she was missing – Jenny gave Rosie one last breathtaking smile – a smile that promised protection, potential and the beginning of something wonderfully unanticipated before she turned, walking out and leaving Rosie to finish the remainder of her shift – a scent of fresh espresso now mingling with a sweet, exciting scent of possibility.
Written By: Westley H.
Leave a Reply