20th November 2019
Morning
I finished making us a coffee – for Esther, a chai latte and a strong black Americano for me – and heard Esther swear angrily. She didn’t swear often, and the fact she had told me something was very wrong. Putting down the cups, I walked out back to find Esther on the floor, her face in her hands. At first, I thought she had banged her head on something and had called out in pain. I was just about to ask if she was OK, then I saw.
Beside her, the safe I had put all of our money in the night before was open, and it was empty. They hadn’t just stolen a few cakes. They stole half a week’s takings, a few thousand pounds. My legs felt like they were going to give way, so I stumbled to a chair and sat.
‘Why didn’t the police check in here?’ she asked, her voice barely audible.
‘I told them there was nothing missing.’
‘Then why didn’t you check, Neve?’
‘I… I don’t know.’
Esther looked up at me, and I could see anger in her eyes. I almost told her to calm down, to remember we’re insured. After she’d spoken next, the words failed me.
‘They didn’t break into it.’
‘What? I don’t…’
‘They didn’t break into the fucking safe, Neve. Look at it. Look.’
I looked once more to the open, empty safe. And she was right, there was no sign of forced entry. No scratches, no dents. The safe was simply open.
‘They either knew the code, Neve, or…’
‘How would they know they code?’
‘Or you didn’t lock it last night.’
‘No, I did, I’m sure I did.’
‘Neve, either you’ve given the code to someone…’
‘Why on earth would I do that? Are you saying I stole it?’
‘… or you left it open. Which is it?’
I racked my brain, trying to recall if I shut the safe after returning the money. I remembered the rain, spilling my wine. Seeing the silhouette through the blinds. I remember taking the money out back, putting it in the safe. Did I shut the door? Did I lock it? Yes, I was sure I did. But I was so hungover, so tired, distracted by the person I saw outside. I couldn’t be convinced.
‘Neve!’ Esther shouted, snapping me back into the now.
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘I mean, maybe, yes. I must have left it unlocked because how else could they have got in?’
‘Exactly! I go home for one evening. One evening to be with my little girl and you’re drinking at work and fucking things up.’
‘Esther! I wasn’t drunk…’
‘No, Neve, no!’ she shouted, silencing me. ‘I get that you’re having a tough time. I do. And I’m sorry Oliver left you, it’s really shit. But it has to stop affecting this place.’ Her voice became softer, harder to hear. She sounded hurt. ‘It has to stop affecting me and my life. I have bills to pay, a child to feed.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m sick of you telling me you’re sorry,’ she said, holding my gaze. ‘I am. We’ve known each other a long time; we’ve been through it all, haven’t we? I’ve been at your side through thick and thin, but I can’t keep doing this, Neve.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Your life falls apart, I fix it. It was all right when we were twenty-one and at uni and you were falling in love and breaking up every ten minutes – or when you cut yourself off from the world because of what happened to that girl you used to know. It was all right that night in the club when…’
She didn’t finish her sentence; she didn’t need to. I thought of that night, and how she’d held me, soothed me, until help arrived.
‘But we’re adults now. I’m an adult now. You’re still you. Living from day to day, doing what feels right in the moment. Never moving forward.’
‘I was moving forward. Oliver and I…’
‘Oliver despaired that you wouldn’t let him in. You know that, right?’
‘What, he talked to you about it?’
‘He told me, more than once, that he was struggling because you wouldn’t tell him about your past. He thought you were so secretive. You and he split up because you can’t take responsibility for your problems.’
‘Esther, that’s hardly fair,’ I said, choking back tears.
‘What’s not fair is that we’re now completely skint, and I have my baby to feed, Neve – that’s what’s not fair.’
Her words sucked the air from my lungs.
‘Go home, Neve.’
‘What?’
‘You look like shit, and I can’t face you right now. Just go home. I’ll deal with this, get the door boarded and tidied up.’
‘But…’
‘Seriously, just go. And if you really wanna help, perhaps think of an idea that can save this café.’
‘What? The café is fine. Besides this, we’re doing OK.’
‘I can’t keep doing “OK”, Neve, I can’t,’ she said, getting up. ‘We both know this has turned out to be a lot tougher than we thought it would be. I don’t mind the long hours, I don’t. But I can’t afford to work for nothing.’
‘Esther, it will be…’
‘And we’ve just lost what, £2,000, £3,000?’
‘Close to £3,500,’ I said quietly.
‘How are we going to get that back? How are we going to pay our rent on this place, let alone my mortgage? Tell me, how?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, tears pressing in the back of my eyes.
‘Go home, Neve. Get yourself sorted out, you’re a mess,’ Esther said with an air of finality. I watched her get up and grab her phone. She must have dialled 111 because she asked me to get the crime reference number. I did as she asked, and when she started to talk into the phone about the stolen money, I grabbed my coat and left.