The Second Chance Café in Carlton Square Read online

  ‘I’m worried,’ I tell Daniel when he comes home.

  Without a word he strides across the floor to fold me into his arms. ‘About what, darling?’

  My anger flares up at the question. I’ve only been talking about Lou’s court date for the last two weeks. Sometime he just doesn’t listen.

  ‘Has Barb done something else?’ he asks. ‘You didn’t see her, did you? Are Zane’s new cake ideas all right? I hope he’s not trying weird combinations like hazelnuts and kale. Is it the children? Tell me and let me help.’

  Or maybe he does listen. I didn’t realise how many things I have been worrying about. ‘It’s Lou’s court date tomorrow.’ I pull back from him. ‘I’ve got butterflies just thinking about it. I’ve never been in court before. Officially, I mean.’ This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, actually, by opening the café. But that’s naïve. The kids who need help usually need it because they’re in trouble. There could be a lot of court visits in my future. It’s a depressing thought.

  ‘You’ll do fine,’ he says, letting me go. ‘You’ll speak from the heart like you always do and that’s the best that Lou can hope for. What time do you need to be there? I could look at leaving work to join you, if you’d like some moral support?’

  ‘That’s very sweet but no, thanks, I’ll be okay. It’s youth court anyway, so it’s not open to everyone like regular court. Even if it was, if I were Lou I’d want as few people gawping at me as possible. Not that you’re a gawper. You know what I mean. This isn’t exactly her shining moment, is it, being called up in front of the magistrate.’

  Daniel picks up Grace, who’s making grabby hands from the floor. ‘Yah, I couldn’t blame her. I don’t see why the case should go to court in the first place. Weren’t they just a few tins of supplements?’

  I sigh. ‘I thought so too. Lou is extremely thorough. She took the shop’s entire supply. There were cases and cases of the stuff. The social worker told me that if it’s worth over two hundred quid it needs to go to court. Besides, this is her second offence. She got off with a caution last time.’ I gather Oscar up into my arms so the whole family can be at eye level. ‘To make things worse, she won’t plead guilty. Even though she was caught carrying the evidence. I’m sure it’s not nice to admit to something like that, but she did do it.’

  ‘Has she said why she’s not pleading?’

  ‘No, I got all my information from the social worker. Lou isn’t talking.’

  ‘Well, she must have a good reason. You said she was smart.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  It’s so frustrating seeing someone do something stupid and not being able to do anything to stop it. Especially when it’s someone that you care about. And I do care about Lou. She needs all the people like me she can get right now.

  ‘Why don’t you let me feed them?’ Daniel says. ‘Go have a bath and relax.’

  A bath! With actual hot water fresh from the tap and a door that stays closed and no toddlers looking over the side of the tub. But Daniel makes a sour lemon face when he sees me hesitate. ‘What is it?’ he snaps.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ I say. ‘I really appreciate the offer, but it’s easier if I just do their tea.’

  He sets Grace down and crosses his arms. Daniel hardly ever crosses his arms. ‘Because I don’t do it right?’

  ‘Well… yes.’

  ‘Emma. I don’t know what you want from me. I might not do everything the way you do, but I can do it, if you’ll only let me. You say you’re tired and you want help and then you won’t let me help. Which do you rahly want, Emma? Because I’m confused. Should I be helping or not?’

  ‘Yes, of course I want you to help.’

  ‘Then will you please stop making it so…’ He glances at Grace who’s busily emptying the laundry basket. ‘… So bloody hard. I get that you’re perfect and I’m far from it, but how am I supposed to learn how to take care of our children when you never let me try?’

  I frown. ‘Oh my god, I am not perfect!’

  ‘Well, you look perfect to me. You always know exactly what you’re doing and yes, I have no idea most of the time, but I want to do it. I can learn, you know.’

  I stare at Daniel. This lovely deluded man actually thinks I have a clue about what I’m doing. That I’m not making it up as I go along and in a constant state of anxiety that it’s all wrong and I’m doing irreparable harm to our children. ‘Daniel, I’m really sorry to tell you this, but I have no idea what I’m doing! It’s nice that you think I do, but I’m as clueless as you are. I’m totally faking everything. We should face it. If we needed a licence for parenting, we’d be in front of the magistrate like Lou.’

  ‘That is such a relief to hear,’ he says. ‘I know it shouldn’t be, since it probably means we’re both ill-equipped to look after our children, but all this time I’ve felt like an utter failure.’

  And I’m the one who’s made him feel that way. What an arse I’ve been. ‘You’re not doing everything wrong. You’re their father and you’re a good one. I shouldn’t be judging you.’ Didn’t Melody just say the same thing? ‘I’m sorry,’ I say again. I have the feeling I’ll be saying that a lot. ‘You’re right. I haven’t been fair. I’m glad we’re in this together.’

  When he smiles at me, I feel closer to him than I have in a long time. I remember how much I love knowing that we’ve got each other’s back, feeling like the two of us together can get through anything life throws our way. It won’t be slick or pretty or without wrong turns, but we can get through anything together. ‘I will have a bath,’ I say. ‘Thanks for taking over. You’ll do just fine.’ I tip my head up to kiss his lips. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too, Em. Have a nice bath. I won’t disturb you unless we need the Emergency Services.’

  Everyone’s jumpy at the café the next day before Lou’s court appointment, even Joseph, and he’s got no reason to be. He’s been avoiding me and hasn’t taken the piss out of Lou once.

  But I’m wrong. It’s not Lou’s court appearance that’s got him spooked.

  ‘I hate to tell you this, boss, but our social media campaign is whack,’ he finally says just as Lou and I are about to leave.

  ‘This isn’t great timing, Joseph,’ says Lou. ‘Couldn’t you wait till after we get back?’

  ‘I’m really sorry, but it’s getting critical. Don’t worry, we can go over it when you’re back.’

  Not if it’s getting critical, we can’t! ‘What’s wrong?’

  Lou huffs.

  ‘Lou’s right,’ says Joseph, and now I know something’s really wrong, because he never admits that. ‘I just need to know if you want me to answer the reviews or not? Sometimes offence is the best defence, but then again, silence can be golden.’

  ‘Will you stop with the stupid clichés?’ Lou snaps. ‘God, you had to do this right now.’ She turns to me. ‘We’re getting malicious posts online. As Head of Communications, Captain Bad Timing here should probably do something about them.’

  ‘It’s not a problem with Facebook because I can delete the posts from our page and block the poster,’ Joseph says. ‘The review sites aren’t so easy. We’ve got almost all one-star reviews.’

  ‘Where are these reviews? Can I see?’ My heart sinks with every single star as he scrolls through one of the sites on his phone. ‘It’s all the same stuff she’s putting on her leaflets,’ I say. I should have guessed that Barb would do something like this, though I figured she was as clueless about social media as I am. She must have someone helping her. Then I see a comment that leaves my blood running cold. ‘We do not have rats! Or cockroaches! That’s not why health and safety closed us. Those are total lies.’

  ‘They’re all lies, boss. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Can’t you have them taken down? Explain to the people who run the sites that they’re not true.’

  He nods. ‘I’ve already flagged them up on the sites that let me, but I haven’t heard anything back… we could respond
to each review.’

  ‘And say what?’ Lou says. ‘That we were shut down by health and safety for having a dirty play area? That doesn’t sound much better. I say leave it. Nobody pays attention to those sites anyway. Not for cafés. It’s not exactly a Michelin-star restaurant, is it?’

  But this is my business they’re talking about. It feels like I’m being attacked personally. I want to respond. I very much want to respond.

  Lou is probably right, though. The extenuating circumstances don’t sound that much better than the lies. ‘Leave it,’ I tell Joseph. ‘Take the posts off Facebook when they come up, but otherwise ignore it. Sticks and stones may break our bones.’

  ‘What are you on about, boss?’

  ‘Never mind. It’s just an old expression my parents used to say to me. Lou and I really need to go now. Text if you need anything before we’re back, okay?’

  ‘Good luck, Lou,’ he says as we leave.

  Walking into the blocky Portland stone and brick magistrate’s court is exactly as intimidating as it’s meant to be, and I haven’t even done anything wrong. I can’t imagine how Lou must be feeling.

  As if to answer, she pops a lock of hair into her mouth as we go up the steps together.

  ‘You’ll be okay, Lou. I’m going to do my best to make sure.’

  I’ve only ever been to the regular magistrate’s court, back when I did my criminology course. We had to go there a few times to observe, but I don’t know what to expect here at the youth court. Not that I can tell Lou what an amateur I am. It’ll make her even more nervous. My swagger is meant to convey confidence, but it probably just looks like my pants have bunched up.

  Mrs Bog-Standard is waiting outside with a middle-aged couple who are wreathed in smoke from the cigarettes they’re clutching. The woman’s face breaks into a smile as we get close. ‘There’s me girl!’ she says, chucking her fag on the ground and throwing her arms wide. ‘Didn’t I say we’d be here for you?’

  ‘Great,’ says Lou, sidestepping her foster mother’s arms. ‘Why are you here?’ she asks Mrs Bog-Standard.

  ‘It’s my job,’ she says. ‘How are you, Lou?’

  ‘Just fantastic. Best day of my life. I’m going in.’

  I have to rush to catch up as she sprints up the steps. ‘It’s good that your social worker is here,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, because she’s been such a help so far. This is all just a sideshow for the magistrate. My foster parents are only here to make sure they keep those cheques coming. And like Boggis-Stanton said: it’s her job. She doesn’t give a shit.’

  I can’t sit still in my plastic chair as we wait in the echoing corridor for Lou’s case to be called. Introducing myself to Lou’s foster parents seems like the right thing to do, or at least making some small talk to fill the tense silence, but it also feels disloyal. So we all just sit there avoiding eye contact until finally someone calls for us.

  I’m surprised when the magistrate, a grey-haired man with a kindly face, calls Lou by her first name. Louise. She’ll hate that. I guess this is the gentler face of law enforcement these days. Lou sits with the duty solicitor in the front row. Mrs Bog-Standard, her foster parents and me sit behind. When I reach over the bench to squeeze Lou’s shoulder, she turns slightly to see whose hand it is. Then her head nods just a bit.

  Lou’s foster parents seem to be expecting a riveting courtroom drama, not the boring procedural details that take up the next few minutes. They’re fidgeting in their seats, throwing glances at the wall clock and looking like they wished they were outside smoking. Lou is right. They’re just here to protect their interest. ‘Do you mind?’ I finally hiss when the woman’s shoulder bashes into mine for about the tenth time. ‘If you have somewhere better to be.’

  They settle down when the prosecuting council gets her first crack at Lou in the witness box. I’ll find out soon what it feels like to be up there. I just hope I’ll be as composed as Lou.

  Since Lou pleaded not guilty, despite being caught with the cases of Nurishment in her arms, there are a lot of questions about what she was doing on the night in question. The prosecutor doesn’t pace up and down, though, or make expansive hand gestures when she scores her points, like every courtroom drama I’ve ever watched on telly. It’s more of a friendly Q&A.

  ‘So you were at the shop when it was broken into, is that right, Louise?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m not guilty.’

  The prosecutor’s forehead wrinkles in confusion, which must be an act, since it was Lou’s not-guilty plea that brought us here in the first place. At least Lou’s foster parents are getting a bit of a show.

  ‘Yet you did say you were there at the time of the robbery and that you were alone. Did you also take the items in question?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m not guilty.’

  ‘So you keep saying. Did you break into the shop? I’ll rephrase. Did you force entry into the shop?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m not guilty.’

  ‘Did you take the items in question?’ She consults her sheets of paper. ‘Five cases of Nurishment from the shop?’

  The prosecutor doesn’t seem quite so friendly now.

  Lou’s foster mother makes a WTF? face.

  ‘Yes, but I’m not guilty.’

  ‘You keep saying that, Louise. Yet you were at the shop at the time it was broken into. You forced entry into the shop and you took five cases of Nurishment. As you were carrying the cases you were observed and apprehended by police. And this isn’t the first offence, is it, Louise?’ She turns to the magistrate to detail Lou’s previous caution. She took six cases last time. I wonder if she’s cross about her decline in performance. ‘I don’t think I have any more questions.’

  Lou’s duty solicitor has slumped further into his chair with each admission and I can’t really blame him. He only rouses himself when it’s his turn to ask Lou some more questions. But all he seems to be doing is confirming what the prosecutor has already asked. How’s that supposed to help her?

  With every repeated question, my anger goes up a gear until, finally, I can’t take it anymore. ‘Ask her why she did it! God, do your job, counsellor!’

  Everyone stares at me. Then the magistrate says, calm as you please, ‘It’s the duty solicitor’s turn now, Mrs Billings. We’ll ask for your input shortly.’

  But that seems to have jarred the counsellor out of his stupor. ‘Why did you need the Nurishment, Louise?’ Then he turns to me. ‘It was my next question, actually.’

  I can’t tell from Lou’s expression whether she’s grateful or angry about my outburst. ‘My foster sister needed it,’ she says. ‘My job at the café hadn’t started so I didn’t have any money or any way to get money. Well, I could have stolen some, I guess, but that would have been even worse. I took it for my foster sister. Because my foster parents won’t feed her enough. I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d been looking for a job for months, but nobody hired me.’

  ‘Has this been brought up with your social worker?’ the magistrate asks. Mrs Bog-Standard nods, telling him the same thing she told me.

  Lou turns to the magistrate. ‘What I’m telling you is true. Look, use your common sense. Why else would I steal that stuff? Twice. If I wanted money, would I really nick cases of supplement drinks? I’ve just told you why I did it.’

  ‘But if you admit to the crime, then you’re wasting the court’s time by pleading not guilty,’ the magistrate points out.

  ‘How else am I supposed to get anyone to listen to me? Those people are not taking care of the children.’ She points at her foster parents, who have the nerve to look affronted. ‘I’ve told my social worker. She hasn’t done anything about it. Those kids need help. I did what I thought was right. It might not be what the law says is right, but it’s what I thought was right.’

  The magistrate has to see sense. I know Lou is telling the truth, and by the time I get my turn in the witness box to say so, I think the magistrate knows it too.

&n
bsp; Once everyone is finished, we all wait while he gathers his thoughts. ‘Louise, I wish you hadn’t wasted the court’s time when there are other ways you could have handled this. However, I understand why you did it. You clearly care about and have concerns for the children in your foster home, and don’t feel as though those concerns have been adequately addressed. I’m not sure that they have either, so I’ll ask that they be looked into again as a matter of urgency.’ He waits for Mrs Bog-Standard to nod her agreement. ‘As to the charge of theft, since you admit you were there and broke into the shop and took the goods in question, a guilty verdict seems reasonable.’

  I catch Lou’s foster mother hiss ‘Yes’ under her breath.

  ‘However, I think there are mitigating factors in this case that need to be considered as well. Motivation has to be taken into account for any alleged crime. For that reason, Louise, I’m returning a verdict of not guilty due to mitigating factors. There will be no sentencing and your record will show your acquittal. Is that all right with you?’ For the first time, he smiles. ‘I want this looked into thoroughly,’ he tells Mrs Bog-Standard again. ‘And if there is a case to answer,’ he says to Lou’s foster parents, ‘you will be made to answer it.’

  Lou won’t even look at her foster parents, who do briefly try talking to her before giving up. Mrs Bog-Standard and I hurry after her as she stalks away from the court.

  ‘Lou, will you please stop for a moment?’ Mrs Bog-Standard says. ‘I’ll file the paperwork to reopen the case tomorrow. But this is likely to take time. You know that nothing happens fast in Social Services. Can you be patient?’