Muriel thinks I’m stressing out about the wedding. Yesterday she would have been right. I have become more anxious the closer it gets to the day. Hoping everything will go well: that people will enjoy themselves; that my dress will fit; that the best man won’t be drunk before the speech. The list of concerns went on and on until last night. That list is now redundant. I have a brand new list and there’s only one thing on it. The body found at Huntley Lodge.

As if reading my mind, Muriel comments.

‘Did you see they found a body of a woman in the grounds of some old house out by the university? It was all over the news. Apparently it’s been there for a while. The house was being renovated and some poor builder chap discovered it.’

I stop walking and listen as Muriel tops up my fear.

‘Where did you hear that?’ I say.

‘It was on the news earlier. Poor fecker, he didn’t go in to work expecting to find a dead body… Mind you, if it wasn’t for him the poor woman’s body may never have been found. Is that Cahill’s van outside yet?’ she says, walking out from behind the counter to look out the window. Muriel flips the noticeboard on the door to ‘open’ and I find myself wishing I could turn back time. Get married last month. Be on the beach in Australia yesterday. Far away from this breaking news.

Within two minutes there’s a queue and I smile and serve beautiful coffees to the customers. At this hour of the morning most people just want to get their coffee and leave. They’re on their way to work and not inclined to wake fully until they absolutely have to. There’s very little talk outside what’s needed to politely make an order.

It won’t be like that later. Come eleven o’clock we’ll be providing commentary along with coffee. People are at their best then. The day is up and running. The energy levels are high and they want to communicate.

Today is no different; the main topic of conversation is last night’s football match with one or two commenting on the discovery of the body by the builder.

Each time it’s mentioned my heart skips a beat. I even flush red once or twice like I’m guilty. No one says anything I don’t already know but I am eager to go on my break to check the social media for myself.