It’s a Wonderful Night. Jaimie Admans

I would ever expect to be suffering with depression. It just goes to show that you never know what kind of battles people are fighting on the inside.

      And I know I have to do something. Leo needs customers. He needs to feel important to the town – as important as he makes me feel every morning. Leo is kind. I’ve seen him knock the price of a coffee down for an old man who’d gone to pay and found he didn’t have enough cash. I’ve seen him make a special batch of dairy-free muffins just so a vegan customer could have one. Every day I see him walking down the road towards the churchyard with a coffee and a bag of food for Bernard.

      Doesn’t he deserve some kindness in return?

       Chapter 3

      ‘All right, what’s wrong with him?’ Casey’s standing with her hands on her hips when I close the door and turn around.

      ‘What? Nothing!’

      ‘Another waif or stray? Are you going to put Kitekat out for that one too?’

      ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I say, even though Casey’s always moaning about me putting food out for the cats.

      ‘At least he’s handsomer than the old guy from the churchyard you insist on feeding and taking clothes to.’

      ‘Looks don’t really come into it when someone’s homeless, do they?’ I ask, mainly to distract her from asking me about Leo because she’s going to want to know why I’ve just walked into the bank and pretended to work here, and I can’t tell her the truth.

      ‘I’m not having this conversation again, George.’ She tucks a stray lock back into the bun that I know she hates having to hide her long hair in for work. ‘So, the guy from the coffee shop … homeless? Ill? Poor?’

      ‘None of the above. Just a nice guy.’

      ‘No such thing,’ she says without missing a beat. ‘What’s wrong with him? Other than the teeth?’

      ‘What’s wrong with his teeth? He’s got a lovely smile.’

      ‘Yeah, for Dracula. He’s got fangs!’

      ‘He’s got slightly sticky-out canines that do not look like fangs. They just make his smile wider. And he’s self-conscious of them so don’t go and offer to recommend a dentist in your usual abrasive way. He’s too scared of the dentist to look into getting them fixed.’

      ‘Isn’t that a bit personal for a barista? How do you know so much about someone you buy coffee from?’

      ‘Because he’s friendly. He chats. And he’s never told me he’s self-conscious but you can tell from the way he smiles. And the dentist thing just came up, and let’s face it, it’s not like anyone actually likes the dentist, is it?’

      She raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

      ‘I talk to him, Case. Every day bar Sundays. He’s a lovely –’

      ‘Oh, spare me the “some men can be nice” spiel. Heartbreakers, the bloody lot of them. Led by, well, something bigger than their tiny brains.’

      ‘Ah, yes. “He who shall not be named unless it’s in an obituary for death by castration.” Not all men are going to be like him,’ I say. Casey hasn’t always been so intolerant of men. She used to believe in love and wanted to find a happily ever after. Until her ex-fiancé found several happy endings with several other women.

      ‘How can you still say that when the love of your life jumped on the first plane out of here when New York came calling?’

      ‘Who wouldn’t?’

      ‘You, Georgia. You wouldn’t. You chose to stay here instead of go off on an adventure with him.’

      ‘He wasn’t the love of my life, Case. And the only adventure would’ve been navigating around the airport for the first flight home.’

      She rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, well, you’ve been single for years now, so let’s get back to you and Mr Shining Knight in a fetching blue apron. If there was nothing wrong with him, he would’ve walked you to the door of the charity shop, about three steps further than this one, where you actually work. What’s going on? Why have I just breached our security rules to let a non-staff member in before opening time?’

      ‘It’s complicated.’

      ‘Things usually are with you.’ Casey purses her lips. ‘Well, at least he’s young and nice looking. Single?’

      ‘I have no idea. Not every man is a potential date, you know. It’s actually possible to be friends with a guy.’

      ‘Pah. Where’s the fun in that? If everyone had that attitude, we’d all be as miserable as I was when I was engaged. Sometimes you don’t need to get to the bottom of every teeny tiny feeling and fix a guy’s every problem. Sometimes you just need a damn good shag.’

      ‘Leo doesn’t need a good shag, he needs …’

      ‘Ooh, Leo. Good name. Brings to mind all sorts of DiCaprio-related goodness. Coffee Apron Guy is way hotter than DiCaprio though, even back in the Romeo and Juliet days, and that’s saying something. What does this Leo need and if you won’t give it to him, do I have permission to?’

      ‘No. And no. And if you want to help me or Leo, you can go and buy a coffee at lunchtime.’

      ‘He is homeless. I knew it. I suppose I need to buy him a hot meal too?’

      ‘No. Not everyone I know is “in need”. Leo’s just a friend. Without mentioning any part of this conversation, will you go and buy a coffee in It’s A Wonderful Latte at lunchtime? Please? For me?’

      She waggles an eyebrow. ‘No part of this conversation but I can mention my single colleague Georgia, right?’

      ‘No. No, no, no. Just a coffee. And no mention of me or where I work or don’t work. This doesn’t need to be bigger than it is. He makes really good coffees and they’re way cheaper and less sweet than the overpriced cups of liquid sugar you usually get from the big coffee chains. And tell all your colleagues to do the same, please?’

      ‘Here, you can tell them yourselves.’ She opens the security-locked door behind the counter and beckons me through to the back. ‘You’re late, aren’t you? When are you ever late, George? This Leo must be someone really special.’

      I shake my head, knowing Casey will be like a dog with a bone on this. ‘Just a guy I got chatting to. Makes good coffee. There’s nothing else to it.’

      ‘Well, it’s nice to see you chatting to a man your own age and not old ladies and homeless men.’

      ‘I work with old ladies. And I chat to one homeless guy because he’s a nice, interesting guy; being homeless doesn’t come into it.’

      ‘Oh look, speaking of old ladies, two of yours are standing in the car park and they don’t look happy about being out in this downpour.’

      ‘Morning Georgia.’ As we walk down the corridor connecting the back offices, Jerry, Casey’s boss, comes downstairs with a mug of tea in his hand. I prepare myself for a bollocking but he doesn’t even look surprised to see me. ‘Locked yourself out, eh?’

      ‘Er, something like that.’

      ‘She’s trying to impress a guy,’ Casey says for me. ‘He thinks she works here.’

      ‘Oooh, tell me more.’ Jerry clutches both hands around his mug and looks uncharacte‌ristically excited. ‘People can be funny about charity shops, can’t they? Fancies a banker type, does he?’

      ‘It’s really not like that –’

      ‘Feel free to use