on it sooner rather than later. She stepped over the threshold with her eyes closed and breathed in the smell of plastic and a subtle burning scent. ‘Oh god, what’s that?’ she said out loud. She flicked the light switch and opened her eyes, but nothing happened. When she flicked it again, she heard a click and a hiss and the wire that was dangling from the ceiling sent out a spark. She quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and turned on its flashlight. Newspaper covered the floor in addition to a layer of dust, and the plastic-covered tables and chairs were piled high to one side. The newly painted walls were splotchy, with paint having made its way onto the skirting boards and light fixtures. The place was a mess.
‘Okay Amanda,’ she told herself, ‘you have to fix this. When the electrician comes today, he needs to know that this won’t do, and that you need your kitchen up and running this week.’ She carefully treaded over the newspapers to put her bag down on the bar, still using her phone for light when it started ringing. Her dad’s name appeared on the screen.
‘Hi Dad,’ Amanda answered, as chirpily as she could. ‘How are you?’ She went to lean on the counter but thought better of it with the dust and grime present in a thick layer, so instead hovered by it awkwardly.
‘Hi sweetheart. I wanted to check in on the work at your café. How’s it looking? Do you need any help today?’ he asked. Amanda could hear the pride in his voice when he said, ‘your café’ and she didn’t want to let him down. The girls had been lucky, growing up with parents who supported them in all they wanted to do. Amanda wouldn’t have travelled the world, exploring exotic cuisine or completed her strenuous placements in restaurants over the years if it wasn’t for their encouragement and belief in her that she could do it. Now, with no job and Jeff having tainted her reputation, this café had to work. She wasn’t just doing this for herself and her career, she was doing this for her family.
‘Everything’s fine thanks, Dad. I’ve got it all under control,’ she gulped, looking into the gloomy abyss. He had already helped unload the furniture earlier this week, which he had done with a smile on his face, but Amanda hadn’t missed his occasional pauses where his hands rested on his lower back, while he took in deep breaths, pain crinkling his eyes. He wasn’t as young as he looked and when Amanda had rung her parents’ house at 7 p.m. that evening to thank him once more, her mum had answered and told Amanda she would pass on her message in the morning when her dad woke up. The day had wiped him out. She couldn’t do that to him again. ‘Have a good day, Dad, and I’ll keep you posted,’ she said, ending the call. She glanced around at the dark and dreary shell of a café and then down at her watch.
‘Okay, so the electrician will be here any minute and I’ll just text the decorators and ask when they’ll be coming back to do another coat and final touch ups and clean the sockets and skirtings, then everything really will be fine,’ she said. She walked over to the bay window and rolled up the matte gold blinds that had recently been put in, just enough to let some light in but not enough for onlookers or paparazzi to get a good look. San Francisco Beat were a big deal – the media had already sniffed out Dan’s scent while he was visiting and helping her look for a place.
Thinking of Dan made her pulse quicken but her stomach sink. She missed him like she’d never missed anyone before, and she wished he were with her, making this task feel less daunting than it was. But she understood his work; she knew his life was his band and it made her happy to know that he was living his dream. She had to admit that it felt different now though. He’d been gone three weeks and the distance and time difference had thrown her for a loop. Had it been this difficult to stay in touch when they were just friends? Anyway, she couldn’t think about that right now. She had to get her own dream back on track. Another crackle and spark jolted her from daydreaming of Dan, and she turned abruptly to see that it came from one of the plug sockets by the bar. ‘Any minute now, the electrician will be here,’ she repeated to herself. ‘Any minute now.’
*
The minutes turned into hours. It was now three in the afternoon and thankfully the day was still bright; the sun high above the houses, enough to cast a glow on her café, so she didn’t have to sit in the dark. Amanda was sprawled out on the cold unfinished floor, covered in dust and muck, feeling pretty useless and no longer caring about the state of her clothes. She had been waiting for the electrician since eight o’clock this morning and he still hadn’t turned up. She had received no reply from the decorators, and they were not answering their phone. She was feeling sorry for herself, missing Sabrina’s efficiency in a situation like this and replaying her conversation with Louisa from weeks ago, still feeling gutted that her little sister wasn’t going to make it to her café opening.
This wasn’t like her at all and she hated herself for acting even remotely defeated. Grandpa would be having none of this. If he was here, he would be busy bustling around, making sure everything was done exactly the way he wanted, even if that meant doing it himself. Nothing would interrupt his vision, Amanda thought. With opening day looming in a little over two weeks, she could simply not afford to be sitting on a dirty floor when there was food to be ordered, staff to hire and ‘Electricity for Dummies’ to purchase. By the end of the day she would know how to rewire a light fixture; just because she was a chef, didn’t mean she could not or should not teach herself a bit of electrical DIY. Knowledge was power, her Grandpa would say, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way of whipping up plates upon plates of rich sea salt focaccia to get the neighbours talking.
She jumped up and headed to the door.
*
‘How’s the café coming along?’ Amanda’s face beamed as Nikki’s voice came down the line sounding cheerful. It helped to keep Amanda’s spirits high – either that or she had inhaled more paint fumes than one should. At this point she couldn’t be quite sure, she had been painting all afternoon, having dared to roll up the blinds and let the sunlight illuminate the café. She didn’t quite have Louisa’s creative streak or flare for design, so she had prayed to the painting gods that the walls would not be a complete tragedy when she was done.
But at least the paint was pretty, Amanda thought to herself, as she gazed at the white walls that glittered with gold specs in the flickers of the fading sunlight. She considered Nikki’s question. It felt good to hear Nikki’s voice. Amanda had met Nikki in San Francisco; she had been the one to officially introduce Dan to Amanda and the one to take Amanda under her wing during her time there. They had kept in touch over the years and Amanda hoped to visit her again one day. She had loved San Francisco and Nikki’s feisty attitude, big heart and love of cooking.
‘Oh Nikki, I know it’s come a long way since we started the whole process a few weeks ago; to think we have floors and furniture, a kitted-out kitchen and no holes in the walls now! But I’ll be totally and completely not a monster anymore if we can just get this electricity sorted,’ Amanda said, with a squint of her eyes as she wiped at her brow. She hadn’t meant to be naïve, but she hadn’t accounted for the hiccups. Amanda often saw the big picture and that big picture ninety-nine per cent of the time revolved around the food; thinking about the recipes, when could she go buy the food, when she could start cooking the food, when she could start eating the food and when she could start serving the food. Stopping the process to take pictures or deal with shoddy painters and unequipped electricians was not part of her game plan.
‘I get it hon,’ Nikki started, ‘I’m insanely proud of you, you know,’ she finished with a thoughtful sigh. Amanda plonked herself down on the floor, for fear of leaning on anything and breaking it or smudging it. ‘Thanks Nikki,’ she whispered, feeling grateful to have Nikki on the line. She missed her terribly.
‘How are things over there? How’s the café doing?’ Amanda asked. She thought about Nikki standing behind the counter at Bruno’s, the café that her dad owned and that had been in her family for generations. Amanda’s mind flashed back to the day she first
