Chapter 6

It was six in the morning when my smartphone started ringing. It was Jennifer’s number. Thinking the worst, that maybe something’s happened, I immediately grasped the smartphone pressing the answer button and putting the device to my ear, calling out.

“Hello.”

“I thought you was going to come for breakfast this morning?” It was Jennifer. I could hear people chatting in the background.

“Jesus Christ it’s only six. I’ve set my alarm for eight. I was going to come around at nine.”

“Nine? We usually start preparing for lunch at that time.”

“Give me half an hour I’ll be there,” I told her while jumping out of bed.

When I got there, the cafe was full. Lillian was in the kitchen, preparing the orders. Randolph with three plates in one hand and two in the other, was rushing to a table. My sister Jennifer was taking orders from customers, on her mini iPad, which went straight to Lillian for preparation. Waiting for her to finish, I quickly said to her before she went to the next table.

“What do you want me to do?”

Gesturing her head, towards the kitchen. “See Lillian she’ll show you how to use the pot wash.”

As soon as I walked into the kitchen, on seeing me, Lillian turned her back to me, turning to the pot wash in the corner of the room. There stood two piles of plates, each one like a skyscraper. Throwing on an apron which was hanging there, I grabbed the pre-rinse spray. I was washing plates until three in the afternoon. I had prune fingers, from having my hands in the water all day. My arms and shoulders were aching from scrubbing.

“Pretty hard work, when you’re not used to it.” Jennifer stood there, with a clean hand towel in her hand. “Go in the back and wash up, we’re going to go for a little drive. Lillian and Randolph will lock up the cafe.”

In the car, I couldn’t stop looking over at her, while she drove. Thinking how much resemblance she had with our mother. Wondering if she thought the same about me If I was like our father.

Jennifer brought me back to earth by speaking. “What do you think of the business?”

“You have a good flow of customers,” I replied

“Good flow, I think that’s an understatement. We were packed from seven in the morning until two in the afternoon. It’s like that six days a week. Why do you think that scum bag is pressuring me? Sparks was forcing dad to sell the business for years.”

I was about to speak when I saw the sign on the entrance. “Southgate Cemetery.” We were both silent driving through the gates. Going past rolls of tombstones, all perfectly aligned next to each other. A few people scattered around, some putting flowers. Others were cleaning the monuments. Everyone had someone here, who they had lost from one way or another.

Stopping the car, she climbed out. Walking to some graves which I presumed one of them was our fathers. I followed behind at a distance, giving her space. She stopped at a plot with a brown granite tombstone. Near the top of the stone, in the middle was a colour picture of our father in his fifties. Below the photo, his name then the year he was born, and the year he died. With these words written after.

‘Here lies a beloved father. Parted by death until we are reunited. Together as a family again.’

“Hey dad, didn’t I tell you he looks like you.” Jennifer cried out. Dropping to her knees, she put her arm out, to touch the tombstone. Putting her head down, she started to cry. Walking over to her, I kneeled down next to her. Embracing her in my arm, as she put her head on my shoulder.

“When I saw you for the first time, I knew you were my brother. But I was scared, scared to lose someone again. It hurt so much when our father passed away Jason. You may not have any feelings for him, but he was everything to me,” She sobbed more, keeping her head on my shoulder. Holding her, I stroked the back of her head.

“Hey, whatever happens, I will be here for you, by your side,” I whispered in her ear.

For the rest of the week, I would get up at the crack of dawn every morning. Going to the cafe before six in the morning. To prepare the food for the early morning rush, as it was the busiest time of the day. Jennifer explained to me all the ins and outs of running the business. Randolph was showing me the waiters side of the job. Still, Lillian was giving me the cold shoulder, every time I went into the kitchen. She would find an excuse to leave the room. Pretending that she had to get something from the fridge.

It was Saturday afternoon. Everyone had gone home. It was just Jennifer and me in the office. She was showing me how to input the debit and credit figures for the accountant. Giving me a big smile from ear to ear when she highlighted the profits we made that week. With a NatWest money bag in her hand, she started putting money inside it. “The cash we will be dropping in the bank safe.” Jennifer happily said. There was still a pile of notes sitting on the table.

“What about that money, what do we do with that?” I knew what her answer would be, on that question.

“Oh, that is tax-free money, you don’t want the tax man taking everything.” Taking half of it, she opened the safe and put it inside. “With this, we go shopping.” Taking the rest of the money, she put it in her hand bag.

“Shopping for what?”

“Clothes, you can do with a couple of new outfits, Jason.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Come on, if it’s not plain khaki, then it will be camouflage. Half the time when customers see you, they start wondering why there’s a soldier in the shop. I’ve had a couple of people ask me why I have a soldier working for me. An old lady said to me the other day it’s a good thing what I’m doing, helping our heroes. Like it or not, we are going shopping.”

We went to a shopping centre, in North London called Brent Cross. Jennifer dragged me from one shop to another. Trying different styles, to see which one suited me best. I felt like Ken, Barbie’s companion. Changing two or three outfits every time. It was a sigh of relief when one of the sales assistants said, “we will be closing in five minutes.” With a handful of bags, we started to make our way to the car park.

“I am famished after all that walking around. Let’s go and get something to eat before I drop you off at the hotel.”

It was a fancy Italian restaurant, very close to the hotel I was staying. Entering the premises, Jennifer was approached by a middle-aged man. Hugging her and kissing her on both cheeks, the way Mediterranean families and friends do.