I tapped the jug. Tapped and then pressed. I could tell from the steam that it was hot but I could barely feel anything. ‘Nothing. And nothing will. He’s not my type.’

‘So you say.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Hmmm.’ He walked back around the bar and picked up the beers. ‘Who was on the phone before?’

I feigned ignorance. ‘When?’ The steamer made a hissing sound and I knew I’d burned the milk but I didn’t care. I poured it into the waiting coffee cups and pushed them away.

He laughed. ‘You’re such a shitty liar.’

‘Order up.’ I gave him a look.

‘I’ll figure it out, Cait,’ he said.

I rolled my eyes as he walked off with the coffees, then I set out two wineglasses and turned to find the right bottle of white in the fridge. Another docket came through the printer and I pulled it free. The words blurred but somehow I made them out, like I always did. Beers. Then more wine, two more coffees.

‘Emma’s disappeared again,’ Nic muttered the next time there was a lull.

‘What?’

‘She said table three needed bread but she’s been down the back for ten minutes.’

I shrugged. ‘It’s her funeral.’

‘Nice, Cait.’

I picked up a notebook and dropped it on the bar, a little too hard. ‘She’s young. She’ll get over it.’

Nic sighed.

‘I know, Nic. We all know. Maybe she knows too. Maybe she thinks she’ll be the one to tame him.’ The crackle of anger I’d been fighting since the start of my shift turned into something else, something bigger. ‘Why is it on me to look after her? Why do I have to look after everyone?’

I wasn’t talking about Emma. Damn Lina. Damn her and her stupid, expensive wedding that was going to end up being like every other stupid, expensive wedding. Boring and pointless when they got divorced in five years, when he left her for someone skinnier and cooler and her whole world fell apart and I had to look after her. Again.

And then she’d get better and move on and I’d still be here, doing this.

Or maybe I’d be dead by then. Maybe that would be better. Probably.

A docket came through and I picked it up a little too forcefully, tearing the paper. I pulled two beers out of the fridge and opened them.

‘Fuck,’ I said, as one erupted over my hand.

Nic was still watching me, confused, concerned. I shook the froth off my fingers. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s just …’ ‘It’s okay.’

I sighed. ‘He’s a sleaze. He’ll fuck her and then he’ll get bored and fuck someone else and she’ll get hurt and he won’t care, and Lenny won’t care.’

‘Cait.’ He looked around as though to see if anyone could hear me.