Heiress to Waitress Page 5

  I had not noticed where we were going, but Stacie stood in front of the Franklin Building.

  “This is where all the student clubs are located. Do you have any hobbies?”

  “I play the piano.”

  “Cool. I’m not really in any of the clubs, but since I am part of the student council, I get called in to help with arranging the stage and booking the auditorium for performances. Do you want to take a look inside.”

  “Sure. There’s nothing much to do now anyway.”

  “The music and drama clubs are the most active in our school,” said Stacie, leading the way up the short flight of stairs that led into the building. “Let’s check them out. They practice on the second floor.”

  We climbed a staircase and reached the second landing. The corridor was deserted.

  “Are you sure we are allowed up here?” I asked.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  Stacie began a narrative about the people in the clubs, but my mind wandered away. I didn’t follow much of what she said because they were all faceless to me. While walking through the long corridor, my gaze fell inside an empty classroom. Most of it was hidden in shadows, but my eyes recognized the silhouette of a piano.

  As if on an impulse, my feet carried me inside the room. My hand brushed against the smooth, polished wood of the hood. Next moment, I sat on the stool. My fingers hovered over the keys for an instant. Then, I began playing.

  It felt so good to play after such a long time. My fingers seemed to glide over the keys on their own accord as an old tune took over my senses. The music ensconced me in a bubble of solitude. All my pent up emotions had found sudden release in the keys of a piano.

  “Olivia.”

  Someone began calling my name. At first, it was a mild irritation, like a noise breaking through the beautiful tune of the piano. It kept getting louder until I felt fingers gripping my arms and shaking me.

  “Olivia!”

  Stacie’s face swam into my view. It was only then that I realized that there were tears in my eyes.

  I stopped playing and brushed my hand over my face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” I said truthfully.

  “You shouldn’t be touching the instruments without permission,” said a harsh voice.

  Turning towards it, I found a tall girl glaring at me. Her long chestnut hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves. She wore a short lavender dress with matching shoes. I would have found her pretty had she not been scowling at me. It marred her facial features.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll leave,” I said, standing up.

  The girl came to stand in front of me.

  “Please, Jenny. She said she’s sorry,” muttered Stacie.

  “Stay out of it.” The girl fixed her dark eyes on me. “What’s your name?”

  “Olivia Buchannan.”

  She repeated my name in mock imitation. Her eyes hardened. “You’re not the queen of the eleventh grade. I am.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I remained quiet.

  “Keep your hands off Ryan Hargrove. He’s mine.”

  It took me a moment to even realize who she was talking about.

  “All yours,” I said with a slight lift of my shoulder. “Creepy and strange isn’t exactly my type anyway,” I replied with a cool smile.

  Her scowl faltered at my coldness. I was a proud alumnus of Strathmoore Academy. I’d seen worse specimens there. Those students actually had power and money to cause real trouble. Miss ‘Queen of the eleventh grade’ on the other hand had none.

  “Olivia,” said Stacie in a quivering voice.

  “Let’s go,” I said, stepping around the rude girl and walking away.

  I took long strides to reach the exit of the building as fast as I could, leaving Stacie to hurry after me. My insides were on fire. Anger coursed through me. At the same, I wanted to scream and cry.

  “Olivia! Wait up!”

  I stopped only when I had reached the lawn in front of the Franklin Building. The breeze lifted a few loose strands from my face. It had a calming effect, but I still felt the anger pulsing inside me. It had been a long time since I let my emotions out. I had done my best to stay calm and suppressed my grief to remain strong for Mother. However, playing the piano and the sudden confrontation with the girl had left me feeling out of control.

  “What got into you?” asked Stacie, finally catching up with me.

  Guilt washed over me as I watched her panting heavily.

  “I’m sorry. I need to be alone.”

  Stacie didn’t stop me this time as I hurried towards the girls’ bathroom I’d discovered earlier that day. To my luck, there was no one inside. Tears choked me as I glanced towards my reflection. My face crumpled as my chest began to heave.

  I hid myself inside a cubicle before completely breaking down.

  I missed home so much. A nasty voice in my head corrected me. This was home now.

  Every unfair thing that happened before we came to Knightswood began playing in my head- my father’s sudden death, James and I called home, my mother lost with grief and my uncle’s underhandedness that caused us to lose everything. It was all too much and each memory brought more pain and tears.

  It was a while before I even thought to check my watch. It was past three P.M. According to the timetable, there were no more classes for the day.

  I wiped my face and let out a shuddering breath. Opening the cubicle door, I stepped out. I washed my face at one of the sinks, but my eyes still looked red and swollen.

  There were lots of students near the front of the school. From the looks of it, school was over for them and they were heading home. I scanned the area for Stacie but didn’t catch sight of her.

  I hurried out of the main school gate. My feet carried me away from the direction of Willow Lane. I still felt upset and seeing Sarah would just make me break down in tears again. She had been doing so much better since we came here. There was no need to show her my true feelings and ruin the progress she’d made. For all I knew, she would go back to insisting that James and I go live with Uncle Kelvin.

  The town center lay ahead. I had not ventured there yet and decided it would be the perfect way to distract myself. A few hours of walking would clear my head. Taking my cell phone, I called my mother.

  “Hello?” came Sarah’s anxious voice. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, Mother. I just called to say I’d be late coming home.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to the shopping center. It’s quite close to school.”

  Sarah paused for a moment.

  “Is James with you?”

  “No. I didn’t see him.”

  “Is anyone there with you?”

  “Yeah. Jenny’s with me,” I lied.

  “Oh! A new friend?” Her voice was suddenly excited.

  “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Ok. Have fun!”

  The phone clicked off.

  I let out a long breath. I didn’t like lying to Sarah, but I needed some time away from everything. Once I was feeling better, I could put on a smile and fake a great day at school.

  I walked along the street until I came to a crossroad. Traffic was heavy in this part of the town. A large shopping mall took center stage. There were billboards displaying movie screenings and sale offers. I was about to step inside when I remembered there was just a ten dollar bill in my purse. A rueful smile crossed my lips. If my friends could see what Olivia Buchannan had been reduced to, they would shake their heads.

  I walked away towards a narrow street, watching the displays on the shop fronts. Some of the stores were interesting, selling beautiful handmade accessories like bags and scarves. I didn’t stop anywhere but continued moving forward.

  When my legs could no longer move forward, I sat down on a bench by the roadside under a maple tree. This particular street was lined with trees and mostly had restaurants on both sides. Flower baskets hung outside most of
them. Some of these cafés had tables and chairs put outside, but at the moment they were all empty.

  My stomach groaned. It was only then I realized that I had not eaten anything since breakfast. Standing up, I walked by the restaurants and glanced at the menu boards. Most of the meals were out of my budget unless I was simply going in for a cup of coffee or a bowl of soup.

  A sudden cold breeze blew by, leaving me chilled. The sky was darkening. If I didn’t find a fast food joint soon, I’d have to walk home hungry. Up ahead, a board caught my gaze. It announced itself to be “Bramble Wood’s Royal-Tea Shop”. I smiled at the play of words but wondered why it would be called Bramble Wood’s. We were still in the town of Knightswood.

  Hoping to find something to eat for under ten dollars, I walked up to the shop. There were no boards outside with the menu or the prices. Up front, it looked like a nice shop. I hesitated before going inside.

  A woman stepped out of the shop. While the glass doors closed behind her, something in the reflection caught my eye. Turning behind me, I saw Ryan Hargrove standing on the other side of the street, his gaze on me. Was he stalking me now? The thought made panic shoot through me.

  Chapter 5

  I looked back at the tea shop. Its well-lit interiors beckoned me with a promise of safety. Taking a deep breath, I walked through the glass doors.

  The shop was warm. As soon I stepped inside, variety of aromas hit my nose. A young woman strode forward. Her russet hair was tied back from her face and she wore a blue apron over a white plaid dress. The apron was marked with a large teacup with a crown stamped on its front. A name tag said ‘Jeanne’.

  “Seat for one?” she asked with a warm smile.

  I nodded.

  “This way,” she said, leading me further inside.

  The walls were a shade of a pale powder blue. White lace tablecloths covered the round tables. A counter sat on the furthest side with a glass-encased shelf underneath it. A variety of cakes, muffins and tarts were displayed inside it, although most of the trays looked empty. I suppose they were already sold by then.

  “Have a seat, please,” said the woman, taking a chair out.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking it.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The menu card lay on the table. Its cover had the same symbol as on Jeanne’s apron- a teacup with a crown stamped on it. There were only five tables that were occupied, leaving most of the space empty. I supposed it was too late for tea as an ornamental grandfather clock showed the time to be six P.M. It was closer to dinner time.

  Picking up the menu, I opened it. There were a number of teas on offer. I flipped three more pages and they all contained names of teas. Only the last section showed prices for a selection of sandwiches, scones, and some other dishes.

  I went back to the front of the menu to check the prices of tea and to my delight, they were all under ten dollars. However, pairing them with a sandwich would increase the price beyond my budget.

  Jeanne came back with a notepad in her hand. “Have you decided what you’d like?”

  “The rosehip tea, please,” I said.

  “Cool. Not many order it,” she said, scribbling in her notepad.

  “It’s my favorite.”

  She eyed me closely now. “Are you from old England? I detect an accent.”

  “From Scotland.”

  “Ahh! You’re British! Are you new in town?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

  I nodded, feeling awkward.

  “Okay, what else to go with your tea?” she asked, her hand poised with the pen.

  “Err…that’d be all.”

  Curiosity was evident on her face. “Are you allergic to gluten or something?”

  “No.”

  “Diabetic?”

  “No.” Before she continued with guessing, I lowered my voice and said, “I just have money for tea.”

  “Oh,” she said, understanding coming in her pale gray eyes. “Right. One Rosehip tea.”

  She marched away, leaving me to look about myself. Ryan Hargrove had not followed me inside, making me breathe freely again. As it got darker outside, I felt quite safe and warm in the tea shop. It was a cozy restaurant. I could see myself working here on weekend afternoons if I needed to get out of the house. I saw two more waitresses serving the other tables.

  A silver teapot with flowers arranged in it took central spot on the table. There were small floral-patterned pots gathered around it. Opening the lids, I saw that one contained white sugar, while the other one had light brown sugar. The third pot had packets of artificial sweetener. A stack of coasters stood beside them. With nothing to do, I fiddled with them. They all had cups painted on them. The colors and designs were vivid and gaudy. A smile came on my lips as I inspected each. Whoever was in charge of decoration had bold taste.

  A loud clearing of throat made me look up. Standing in front of me was Jeanne and another woman I had not seen before. She was about thirty years old and wore big jewel-framed glasses. Her dark hair was sleek and short, hanging a few inches over her shoulder.

  “This is our shop owner and manager, Miss Woods,” said Jeanne. When I stared at them both, Jeanne cleared her throat again and added. “Her family is from Britain too.”

  “Hello,” said the woman, extending a hand towards me. “I am Bramble. Welcome to the shop.”

  “Hello,” I said, shaking her hand. “I’m Olivia Buchannan.” So, that’s what the shop name meant. It belonged to the lady called Bramble Woods. A chuckle passed my lips. I coughed hastily to cover it.

  “Since we are near closing time, I am offering you one item from the selection of the day,” said Bramble. She leaned closer to me and uttered, “Free!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Also, I’m hoping you’ll bring your family and friends here some time,” she added with a wink.

  “Of course. It’s a lovely place.” I stood up to go near the counter. “Thank you so much for the offer. I was starving. I didn’t eat lunch today.”

  The two women exchanged glances.

  Every piece of pastry looked decadent, but I chose wisely. The carrot cakes with thick white icing would make the best meal. The mini raspberry tarts looked pretty, but they would not be as filling as the spiced, big portion of a carrot cake. I pointed towards it.

  “I’ll get it for you,” said Jeanne and marched away.

  I went back to my table, followed by Bramble.

  “Do you go to Knightswood High?” she asked, sitting in one of the chairs.

  “Yes. Today was my first day.”

  “So, you’re new to town?”

  I nodded. “We arrived last week.”

  Jeanne came back with a large tray and began setting the table. First, she placed a large pot of tea, followed by a pair of cups and saucers. Next, she brought down a three-tiered plate. The lowest and widest shelf contained an assortment of sandwiches. The middle one had pots of jam and cream with four scones and the topmost part had two slices of carrot cake. My eyes widened at the food.

  “My treat,” said Bramble, when Jeanne walked off. She poured me a cup and gestured for me to begin eating.

  With my stomach grumbling loudly, I obeyed. Picking up a thick sandwich, I took a large bite. It turned out to be chicken salad. I gobbled the whole thing up and sipped a mouthful of hot tea.

  Bramble allowed me to eat for the next few minutes. While I chomped through another sandwich, she ate her cake and sipped tea.

  “Where did you live before you came here?” asked Bramble when I began drinking my tea.

  “My home was in Edinburgh.”

  “I came to this country twenty years ago. My family is from Manchester,” said Bramble. “Have you been there?”

  “Yes. I’ve been there a few times on holiday.”

  I wanted to ask her why she never went back, but it felt too personal. Instead, I continued to eat and drink.

  “Forgive me for asking you this,” began Bramble. “Is every
thing all right at home?”

  I wanted to nod and say “of course”, but somehow I couldn’t do it.

  “I lost my father sometime back. My mother brought us here because it was the only place to go. We have a limited budget to live on and sometimes that can be hard, but we’re managing,” I said, making my story as brief as possible. “I will start looking for a job soon and it won’t be so bad.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Bramble.

  When I looked up at her, she really did look sorry. I tried to smile a little. “Thank you for this feast. Your restaurant makes delicious food.”

  That made her smile. “It’s kind of you to say so.” Her fingers drummed the rim of the cup. “Are you serious about looking for a job?”

  “I am. My mother thinks it would be too much to handle along with the pressures of school, but we are on such a tight budget. I want to be able to have some money to pay for my own things.”

  “I can offer you a job here,” said Bramble, looking at me through her jeweled spectacles. “Have you worked at a restaurant or café before?”

  I almost laughed. My father’s family would die of shame to even think of me doing such a menial job. Suddenly, I wanted to do it.

  “I haven’t, but I can learn,” I said, leaning forward in my chair.

  Bramble nodded. “That could be arranged. It’s not that hard to learn. However, I want you to speak to your mother first. If she’s okay with it, come back in the next few days and we can arrange a schedule for you to work here.”

  “I am sure Mother will agree. Thank you so much.” I felt my face breaking into a big smile. A warm feeling spread through my chest as I took another gulp of tea.

  Then, my eyes fell on the grandfather clock and my blood froze. It was past eight P.M.

  “I need to get home,” I blurted, pushing back my chair. “Thank you for the lovely tea.”

  “Bye,” said Bramble, while I picked up my bag.

  It was completely dark when I stepped out of the brightly lit shop. After the warmth inside, the street felt cold. A chilly wind picked up as I began walking towards home. Since the day had been so warm, I had not taken a jacket with me.