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Chapter Twelve
‘Thank you. Have a lovely afternoon.’ Layla grinned at the customer in front of her. She couldn’t stop grinning. She hadn’t since her and Graham’s talk in the kitchen. Looking across at him, she felt her heart warm as she watched him hand a small child being held in his parent’s arms a cookie. The look on his face was kind, patient.
He waved to the small boy until he reached the door and watched as the dad lowered him to the ground outside on the cobbles before looking away and meeting Layla’s eyes. There was that pink hue flushing across his skin again. ‘What?’
Laughing, she shook her head. ‘Nothing. You’re just really sweet with the kids.’
Graham chuckled. ‘Well, you know, it’s frowned upon if you’re mean to the little ones.’
Laughing, Layla laid her hand on the back of his. ‘It’s sweet.’
‘Thanks, I think.’ Graham grinned before turning to the next customer.
Layla glanced at the clock. It was almost half-past five already. Where had the day gone? Ever since she and Graham had had the chat in the kitchen and decided to give it a go together, the hours had just sped past. She smiled. She loved working with him. He was fun, kind, everything.
‘Layla, do you want to go and turn the sign around please?’ Teresa called across from the coffee and cake counter where she was balancing three plates in her arms, little bits of leftover cake upon them.
‘Yes, sure.’
‘Great, thanks. I’m just going to take these through.’ Teresa smiled and nodded towards the plates.
Walking around the edge of the counter, Layla pulled the door open and waited until Graham’s customer had walked outside before closing it again and turning the small door sign around to Closed. There, another day completed. She turned and looked around the bakery. Abandoned mugs and plates laid on two of the tables which Teresa hadn’t gotten around to clearing, the plates empty, indicating the customers had enjoyed the cakes. The trays beneath the counter were largely empty or almost empty and the bread baskets which were supposed to sit at either end of the counter had somehow meandered into the middle.
‘And that’s another day over.’ Graham called as he began wiping down the counter.
Layla nodded. She’d miss this place when it was time to leave. Of course, she’d miss Graham, but also Elsie, Teresa, Diane... all of them. And the general ambience. The bakery felt like a cosy blanket. You stepped inside and left your problems outside on the cobbles. She’d seen it numerous times in her few days of working here. People would walk up to the door, their shoulders slumped, worry etched in their expressions, but once they stepped inside and were surrounded by the love and care Elsie had created in this place, the frowns turned to smiles and their shoulders relaxed. For just a few minutes of perusing what was on offer behind the glass of the counter, or an hour or so of sipping latte and eating cake at the tables, the customers were happy, and they left that bit more content than they had been when they’d walked through the doors.
‘You look deep in thought?’ Graham’s voice penetrated the silence in the bakery.
Looking towards him, she shook herself from her thoughts. ‘Yes, I was just thinking how much I’m enjoying working here, that’s all.’
‘It is kind of special, isn’t it?’
She nodded as she stacked the plates and mugs from the tables onto a tray. As she turned, she winced as a sharp pain shot through her shoulder. Placing the tray back down, she rubbed it.
‘Hey, are you okay?’ Graham rushed around the counter.
‘Yes, I’m fine. I just must have twisted funny, that’s all.’ She rolled her shoulders back. ‘I’m okay.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yep. It just aches now, that’s all.’ Layla nodded.
‘Here, sit down. I know something which can sort that out.’ Graham pulled a chair out before indicating her to sit.
Shrugging, she did as she was told. Moments later, she felt Graham’s fingers dig into her shoulders, massaging her muscles. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. ‘That feels so good.’
‘Just something I picked up on a sports therapy course I once did.’
As he worked his fingers deeper into her muscles, whatever had caused the pain disappeared. ‘Sports therapy? I thought you were a heating engineer?’
‘I am. When I finished school, I fancied being a sports therapist to the rugby and football stars. I soon gave that up when I realised I didn’t quite enjoy the course as much as I thought I would. I applied for an apprenticeship and yep, now run my own business.’
‘I won’t tell you what course I started after school.’ Layla laughed, her shoulders bobbing up and down against his touch.
‘Go on...’ Graham chuckled.
‘Okay, I always wanted to be an artist.’
