Three Degrees of Separation

Rachel keyed in her unique four-digit number, pressed ‘enter’ and waited. It was bitingly cold on this street corner, she thought, as she instinctively pulled her coat tighter, shuffling from one foot to the other. Her card was returned to her just moments before the crisp, ten pound note was dispensed from the slot above the keyboard. She hastily folded it and placed it into her purse. Then she marched herself back to the café, where her skinny cappuccino and granola slice was being prepared.

‘Sorry about that!’ Rachel smiled at the cashier and handed over her money.

‘Not a problem, madam.’ The cashier counted out her change. ‘Where will you be sitting?’

Dropping the loose coins into her purse, she looked around. The room had filled up quite a bit in her absence. ‘Oh damn, it looks like I may have to…’

‘There’s a table over there, madam,’ a waiter interrupted as he breezed passed her and into the kitchen beyond.

‘Ah, yes. Marvellous. Thank you.’  She bustled through the packed tables, trying not to knock anyone’s coats to the floor, mumbling her apologies until she reached her destination. Then, with a shoppers sigh, she took the weight off her feet and tucked into her lunch.

The waiter emerged from the kitchen with a hearty laugh,

‘Deb, we need more milk! I’m taking a tenner from the till, okay?’ He was out of the door, still wearing his pinny, before Deb, the cashier, nodded her agreement.

Come on, come on, thought the waiter. He rose himself up onto his toes to see what the hold up was. A little old man was stood behind him and was trying to get a view of the situation himself.

‘There’s never enough people on these bloody tills, lad!’

The waiter turned round and laughed, ‘No sir, there is not!’

‘Cashier number 4 please.’

Finally, he thought, strolling towards number four. His smile broadened as he recognised the pretty girl about to serve him.

‘Well, if it isn’t Callum, as I live and breath!’

‘Hello Ruth. How’s tricks?’

‘Good Cal. You? That’ll be £2.78 please.’ Cal thrust his hand into the pinny pocket and pulled out the £10 note,

‘Cheers. Yeah, it’s all good! Listen, you doing anything for New Year’s Eve?’

‘Nooo, why? That’s 2.78, 2.80, 3, 4, 5 and a fiver is 10.’ She slammed down the lid of the till.

‘Well a few of us are getting together at Po-Na-Nas. You don’t need a ticket just, well…’

‘Sure, why not! You remember where I live, Cal. Pick me up, yeah?’ Ruth smiled. Cal smiled back,

‘Yeah,’ he nodded.

‘Cashier number 4 please.’

‘Sorry, I was miles away! You’re not ‘cash only’ are you?’

‘No love. We’ll take your money any old way here!’ Ruth’s still smiling with thoughts of Callum in her head. Rachel was exhausted,

‘Only I had to draw cash out earlier for a coffee but I clean forgot I needed to buy milk too! Honestly, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on…’ Then she noticed the ‘Cash-Back’ sign, ‘Oh, do you do cash-back?’ she asked,

‘We do my love. How much?’

‘Oh, I’m not sure, um, a tenner I think. Yes, a tenner.’

‘There you go,’ Ruth’s fingers lingered a little on the crisp ten pound note that she had only moments ago taken from Callum. Rachel hastily folded it and placed it in her purse. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘and Happy New Year!’

©Lisa Lee 2014, sleeping in Elvegren Tales