Poppy watched the coffee machine do its thing in a slight daze. She was knackered. It was Saturday, and she’d been working six days a week for months now. It was starting to wear her down. She hadn’t ever had a real job before if you didn’t count pop star or songwriter or session guitarist—which she didn’t.

The bell on the door clanged, and suddenly, Cherry came charging in, dragging Luna by the hand. ‘Poppy!’ she cried in her thick Jamaican accent, which hadn’t budged an inch in all the fifty years she’d lived here. ‘I’m so sorry!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Poppy asked, alarmed.

‘I’ve had a call! My mother is sick! I’ve got to get on a plane to Cape Town this afternoon!’

‘Your mother!?’ Poppy said in slight disbelief. Cherry looked good, but she had to be in her seventies. How was her mother even alive to be sick?

‘I told her she needed to cut down on the running, but she wouldn’t be told! That half-marathon was her last, I think,’ Cherry said with a shake of her head.

Poppy couldn’t even respond to that wild statement. ‘Do you need any help getting a flight?’

‘No, my nephew booked me on one, but it leaves in two hours. I’ve got to go now. I’m so sorry.’

‘Cherry, don’t apologise!’ Poppy told her. ‘You’ve got to go. Luna can sit at a table here,’ she said.

Truth be told, Poppy wasn’t sure that was going to work out. Luna wasn’t great at quiet play.

‘Thank you for understanding,’ Cherry said, and she flew back out, frazzled.

The poor woman. Poppy knew that when that moment came, all you could do was try to get there. Nothing else made sense.

Poppy looked at Luna, her eyes barely over the counter. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, worried the kid had been unnerved by the chaos.

But Luna was not interested in the calamity; her eyes were on the glass case. ‘Can I have a cake?’

Poppy placed Luna at a nearby table with a cake and a babycino. But once Luna finished eating, there would need to be an activity for her to do. If only Poppy had the iPad at hand. She tried to be conservative about their use, but in a pinch, they were bloody effective. She’d have borne the judgy glares it would have incurred happily.

A customer pulled up wanting a bacon sandwich, and Poppy rang up the order and sent it to the kitchen. That done, she looked to see that Luna had finished her snack and was already wandering about.

‘Luna...’ she called.

‘What’s that?’ Luna asked, pointing at a hairless dog sitting by a man’s leg.

‘What? It’s a dog,’ Poppy answered impatiently.

‘Where’s its hair?’ she asked. The owner looked up.

‘Luna, can you come over here please,’ Poppy hissed urgently.

Luna turned to the dog owner. ‘Did you shave it?’

The man frowned. ‘No, it’s the breed. It’s an American Hairless Terrier.’

‘It looks weird,’ Luna told him.

In her defence, she had a point. But Poppy didn’t care to back her on it, because the situation had forced her to come out from behind the counter to drag her away from the man, who was looking quite peeved about his dog’s beauty being called into question.

She pulled the girl back to her original table. ‘I need you to sit quietly.’

Luna frowned. ‘What shall I do?’

‘Uhh...’

‘Can I draw?’

‘I don’t have anything to draw with.’

‘Can I do Lego?’

‘I haven’t got your Lego,’ Poppy pointed out.

Luna let out an almighty sigh. ‘I’m so boreeeeed.’

‘You’ve been here all of five minutes, Luna. And you’re going to have to occupy yourself for a few hours yet.’

‘Hours!’ Luna almost yelled. The few occupants of The Sugar Cube turned to the loud whine.

‘Shh!’ Poppy begged. She didn’t know how the hell she was going to get this kid to chill.

‘Can I play with Freddie?’ Luna asked.

That threw Poppy. ‘He’s not here.’

Luna pointed out of the café window at the small square opposite. Freddie was rolling around on a scooter, gleefully speeding towards birds, causing them to fly up into the air in terror. Poppy couldn’t see Norah around.

But there was a blond man with a beard yelling, ‘Freds! Leave them!’ He had to be Freddie’s dad and, therefore, Norah’s partner. He was handsome enough to match Norah in the looks department, Poppy would give him that.

‘No, you can’t play with Freddie. You have to stay here,’ Poppy instructed Luna firmly.

‘Why? There’s nothing to do,’ Luna whined.

‘If Freddie comes in, sure. But you can’t go out there to him, OK?’ Poppy explained.

Luna looked unhappy. ‘OK.’

Poppy went back behind the counter, leaving Luna sitting at the table. She was wondering if there was some app she could put on her phone quickly for Luna to look at. Educational, if possible, but anything would have done. If the kid wanted to play Call of Duty, Poppy would have been OK with it if she could just get the kid to sit down.

But then she saw Luna heading for the door of the café. Poppy flew back round the counter in time to see Luna fling open the door and scream, ‘FREDDIE!’ with every bit of air in her lungs.

The boy turned instantly. ‘LUNA!’

Poppy reached Luna at the door. ‘Luna!’

‘You said I could only play with him if he came in. And he’s coming.’

Trust Luna to find a workaround for the rules. She was going to make an excellent lawyer one day.