Summer Of '75 (Roger Taylor/Queen)

Chapter 3

As the days went by, things returned back to normality and the farm quietened down. Well, as quiet as it could be. When I wasn't helping out at home with the animals or riding, I spent most of my time waitressing at the café in the village on the corner of the high street - The Robin's Nest. It wasn't an overtly busy place, but in the height of the summer, it was crawling with tourists. It meant more work, but also more tips, so I wasn't complaining.

I'd always worked at The Robin's Nest, even before I went to live in London. The owner, Mrs. Harold, was a lovely woman and said to me whenever I was in Rusper I had a job here; she treated me as if I was her own. Her real daughter, Charlotte, also worked in the café with me and the two of us had become quite the team over the time we'd worked together. Being the two main members of staff apart from Dorothy who worked in the kitchen and Mrs. Harold herself who occasionally popped in to help if we needed a hand, meant we'd formed a strong and close friendship.

Anyway, after a long day of serving customers, the last to leave, a kind old lady, left just before closing time as I served her at the till.

'Was everything okay for you?' I asked as she handed me the money.

'Oh yes, just lovely. The lemon sponge cake was absolutely divine. Better than my attempts at home, that's for sure!'

'I had a slice of that myself during my lunch break, I must admit it was delicious.' I chuckled, 'Here's your change.'

'No, no. You keep it, as a tip for your hospitality.' the lady told and placed the coins back in my hand, tapping it fondly.

I smiled, 'You're too kind, thank you very much. Enjoy the rest your day.'

'Thank you. You too, dear.' She replied and with that, the old lady left. I walked to the door and flipped the sign over from 'Open' to 'Closed'. Another day over. Grabbing a wet cloth, I began wiping down the tables but was interrupted by Charlotte struggling to carry the chairs and tables from the outside seating area through the front door.

'Bloody hell,' I heard her mutter while crashing and banging the chair in her arms off the doorframe and then putting it down, 'These are heavier than they look.'

I looked up and tried to contain my laughter, 'Try not to break anything.'

'Shut up.' she replied jokingly before grabbing a brush from the utility cupboard to sweep the floor with, 'How come it's always you that manages to bring in the most tips?'

'Maybe it's because I have a friendlier face.' I suggested, smirking.

'Very funny.' Charlotte said sarcastically before beginning to sweep the floor. Minutes later, Dorothy appeared from the kitchen.

'Alright, girls?' she asked us as we both nodded in reply, 'I'm going to head off, I have a hair appointment I need to get to. I'll leave you to lock up. Charlotte, can give the keys back to your mum? See you tomorrow.'

'See you.' Charlotte and I said in unison as Dorothy left the shop, closing the door behind her and walking away down the street. Charlotte stopped sweeping and I could sense her standing there looking at me intently, as if she was waiting for me to say something.

I stopped wiping the table I was at and looked up at her again, 'Yes?'

'Well?' she coaxed.