Ange's eyes open slowly. The room is dark and her vision is blurry. The bed feels wrong, and she is alone. She blinks, briefly confused, before she remembers that she's no longer at the orphanage.
She sits up in bed and yawns. Her head hurts, and her thinking is fuzzy. There's a little bit of light oozing in past the curtains over the window, but it's only enough to highlight the cardboard boxes sitting between it and the bed.
She yawns again, and pulls out from under the covers. She's wearing the dark blue pyjama top Daisy loaned her last night, and a pair of bloomers. The hardwood floor is chilly against her feet, but she's felt colder so she ignores it.
Her eyes adjust to the dim light, and she can see her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Her hair is a mess. More than usual, that is.
She stands up, stretches her arms and yawns again. Then the sudden sound of an alarm clock going off in Daisy's room nearly makes her jump. She takes a deep breath, chiding herself for being startled. Of course Daisy would have an alarm.
She pulls a fresh pair of bloomers out of her satchel, and sets them, a fresh pair of socks, and a camisole on her bed. She takes her one dress, which she laid across the top of the chest-of-drawers last night, smooths it out, and sets it down beside the other items. She glances at the pair of knee-length shorts, thick cotton blouse, and threadbare jacket stuffed into the satchel. She's worn that style, if such a word can be used for such clothing, for most of her life. This set has been hers for far longer than she cares to remember, and they're a little too short, a little too tight.
"I need new clothes," she mutters.
With another yawn, she opens her door and ambles out into the hallway. The light is on, and Daisy is opening the door to the bathroom. She is stark naked.
Ange sputters, her face turning very bright red. She tries to remind herself that privacy didn't exist in the orphanage. Bathing was a communal affair, and she has seen girls of all ages naked. Boys too for that matter. It doesn't help her current embarrassment.
"Morning, Ange," Daisy calls out as though nothing at all is unusual. Then she sees Ange's mortification, and laughs. "Oh right. I have a flatmate now. Gotta remember that."
"Sorry," Ange stammers, looking down very steadily at her own feet.
"I should be saying that. Well, no harm. To me anyway. I'll let you know when the shower's free."
Ange nods. "Yes. Yes, thank you." She hurriedly retreats to her room, and sits on the edge of her bed.
She takes a deep breath, and looks at herself in the mirror again. She's calmed down now, and realizes it was more the surprise than anything. She's seen nudity all her life. It's nothing strange, nothing unusual.
The door opens after a moment, and Daisy peeks in. She has a towel wrapped around her body. "Shower's free."
"Oh. Thank you," Ange says evenly. She stands and walks out the door. "Oh, Daisy?"
"Yeah?"
"I do apologize for overreacting. Again. I don't know what's come over me."
"No big deal. I'll just remember not to strip before getting in the bathroom next time."
"It's fine, either way. We are, as you say, flatmates. It isn't really a problem."
"See, that's what I think too. That's why I just ... well, anyway. Enjoy your shower, but don't take too long."
"Right."
The bathroom is hot, and the mirror is fogged over. Ange turns on the shower. The water is still quite hot. She hurriedly slips off her bloomers and pyjama top and hops in.
She hisses as the very hot water hits her skin, but she doesn't flinch or leave. This is a luxury she isn't used to. Bathing at the orphanage was not only communal, but highly unpleasant. Large wooden tubs of murky, lukewarm water and harsh soap that made her skin itch were the norm. And they only came once a week.
She sighs, the hot water now feeling soothing. She lathers up a washcloth and cleans herself head to toe, including her hair.
There is a knock at the door, and it opens a crack. "I left a clean towel for you in there. Need anything else?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Alright. Oh, there's shampoo if you want to wash your hair."
Ange blinks, and looks at the bottle sitting by the soap dish. She runs a hand through her soap-sudsy hair, and sighs.
"Thank you," she calls out, even if it's too late for her to use it now.
"No problem. Just don't dawdle."
Ange hears the door close, and she rinses herself. She turns off the water, and pulls back the shower curtains. She rubs her eyes. Her vision isn't so blurry now after the hot shower, though the bathroom is foggy.
She dries off, wraps the towel around herself, and steps out. Daisy is in the hallway, fully dressed except for shoes. "Enjoy?"
"Yes," Ange says with a thin smile.
"Good. Now move your butt!"
Ange nods. "Yes ma'am!"
The General glares at Ange suspiciously as the two girls leave their flat.
"Good morning General."
"Ms. MacBean."
"This is my new girl, Ange le Carré."
"Nice to meet you, sir."
"Hm. Pleasure." He doesn't sound particularly pleased.
Ange looks at Daisy uncertainly, and the older girl shrugs. The General pays them no more mind, ambling down the stairs as usual. After a moment, Daisy walks down, followed by Ange.
"Get the paper," Daisy says as she unlocks the door to the café.
Ange idly glances at the front page, but doesn't see anything especially interesting. She follows Daisy in, handing her the newspaper.
Both tie on aprons, and Ange follows Daisy as she goes through the morning routine, turning on the oven and the lights and getting things ready. She watches intently as Daisy grinds coffee, fills the receptacles, and makes two cups of espresso.
"Sit," Daisy orders her. Ange sits on a stool behind the counter, and Daisy sets the cup and a shortcake from yesterday in front of her. "Breakfast," Daisy notes.
"Thank you."
As Ange eats, Daisy busies herself in the kitchen, baking the pastries she made last night. Ange finishes and carries her dirty dishes to the sink in the kitchen, just as Daisy returns to the café to set the lighting.
Ange comes back in time to see her open the shutter and unlock the front door.
The old couple shuffle in, sitting at the same table, making the same order.
Daisy pulls Ange into the kitchen with her, and shows her how to use the siphon brewer.
"The result tastes better than espresso, but most people don't want to wait this long. If a customer asks for the good coffee, or they say they're willing to wait, use this machine."
"I see."
"Get the bread and tea ready."
"Alright."
When everything is ready, Daisy hands Ange a platter with the coffee, tea, and bread. She looks somewhat surprised, but Daisy grins.
"Just set their things down for them and be gracious when they thank you. It's a piece of cake, good way to warm up."
"I'm used to waiting tables, so it's not a problem. I'm just surprised is all."
"Don't be. It's just us two, so I want you up to speed as quick as possible."
"Of course."
The man folds the newspaper and sets it aside, as usual. He looks slightly surprised to see Ange, but doesn't comment.
"Your tea," she says setting it in front of the woman.
"Thank you, dear. You're new, aren't you?"
"Yes ma'am."
She smiles. "You're doing a splendid job."
Ange smiles and nods. "Thank you, ma'am. Your coffee, sir."
He sips it. "Mm," he says with a curt nod.
"You're welcome?" Ange says, setting the plate of bread down in the middle of the table. The man gives her a curious look, but says nothing.
"Well, if there's anything else, let me know."
"Thank you darling, we will," the old woman says.
Ange is in the kitchen baking. She realizes, idly, that it's been a full day since she got here. It's been a busy 24 hours, but she doesn't have time to reflect any further.
Daisy peeks in to the kitchen. "Two breakfast blends, two breads, one with butter and the other with marmalade."
"Yes ma'am," she answers crisply.
Daisy leaves and Ange starts tea brewing. She cuts slices off of a loaf of bread, spreading two with butter and two with orange marmalade. She hears the espresso machine clunking and hissing, and a thin smile crosses her lips. Fun isn't the right word, but there's a sense of accomplishment, of continuity, that she hasn't felt. Not in a very long time in any case.
She comes out to the café carrying the bread and tea, and sees a group of four workmen standing at the counter.
"Hey, the new girl's still here," one says with a smile.
She smiles back. "I've not burnt the place down yet, so I seem to be up to the task."
The men and Daisy laugh at this, and she sets the teacups and plates on the counter. Daisy sets two cups of espresso and two plates with apple cobbler down next to them.
As Daisy takes the payment, Ange starts back out to return to the kitchen.
"Aw, and I was hoping you'd stay out for a bit," one of the men says with a wide grin.
Ange turns to him with a smile. "Well, I've tasks in the kitchen, but perhaps tomorrow?"
He nods. "I look forward to it."
Ange winks at him, and the men laugh. She hurries out of the café, barely suppressing a shudder. It's the one thing she hates about being a waitress. At least these men keep their hands to themselves. So far, she mentally appends with a grimace.
Daisy comes into the kitchen while Ange is setting a tray of bread on the cooling rack. She is smiling. "You've made a friend," she says in a teasing voice.
"Lucky me," Ange replies dryly.
Daisy sighs, and places an arm over her shoulder. "Flirting's good. It makes the men happy, and encourages them to come back. They spend just a little bit more if they think the pretty girl pouring their coffee fancies them. Just remember, they are customers."
"I know," Ange nods.
"Good. It would be awkward if you started to date one of 'em."
"I'd never!" Ange responds, looking truly offended at the idea.
"Again, good. We'll get you a boyfriend yet, but you won't meet him here."
Ange sighs. "I really don't feel the need."
"Up to you. Being alone isn't good though."
"I'm fine with it," Ange responds, busying herself with kneading dough.
Daisy looks at her for another moment, before leaving the kitchen without another word.
Ange is wiping down tables after the noon rush, when she hears the bell jangle above the door. she glances up and sees a man in a garish suit enter. She turns back to her work when he ignores her entirely.
"Welcome to ... oh. It's you."
Ange looks up at Daisy in complete surprise, then looks back at the man. she sees that he is followed by two men in identical cheap suits, bowler hats, with thin mustaches. She recognizes instantly that they are thugs. Her survival instincts kick in. She glances hastily at the counter, judging how quickly she could run to and jump over it.
"Now now, Daisy," the man coos in a voice that's like syrup poured over vomit: smooth and sweet, but unable to cover the vileness beneath. "That's no way to talk to me. especially considering how much you owe me."
"I know."
"You missed your last two payments," he says in a more serious voice, leaning over the counter.
"I know," Daisy repeats. "I have the money."
"Give it to me then."
"I don't have it on me."
"Then you do not have the money."
"I will have it, Frankie. Next week."
"Next week you'll owe more interest"
"Yeah, I know. Next week, in full. Both payments and all the interest"
"You'd better. Or I'll foreclose this rotten little café, and break that," he gestures vaguely at the espresso machine, "down for salvage. He then turns to Ange for the first time. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "And who is this?"
"New employee."
"Really? You can pay a street rat to sweep crumbs, but you can't pay me?"
Ange takes a deep breath, clenching her fists together. She wants to bite back, but senses it would make things worse.
"She's no street rat, Frankie. And her paycheck doesn't come due til after I pay you."
"That so? Whats your name, little girl?"
Ange bristles, but forces herself to answer in an even voice. "Ange, sir."
"Ange, eh? Well, Ange. When Daisy here fails to pay you, come see me. I may have a suitable position for you under me."
Ange half expects the thugs to chuckle at the apparent double entendre, but they remain silent and stony-faced.
Frankie fishes a business card out of a pocket and thrusts it toward Ange.
She frowns at it. "No thank you."
"Really? You'd rather work in a slophouse for free? I can think of many uses to put you to, and you'd earn a fair bit doing them."
"No thank you, sir. I am happy here."
"That so?" he shoves the card back in his pocket. "Well, one of these days, I'll shut this place down, and maybe then you'll change your tune?"
Frankie walks back toward the door. one of his goons opens it for him. Before he steps through, he turns back, raising an index finger. "One week." He glares at Daisy, then at Ange, before swaggering away.
Daisy waits a moment to be sure the three are gone, then her head drops down to the countertop, muttering an expletive under her breath.
Ange is alarmed, and briefly uncertain what to do. She finally decides to drop her cloth on the table, run around to the counter, and place a hand on her back.
Daisy turns her head to look at her, and to Ange's surprise she is grinning.
"Remember when I said I was in debt up to my eyebrows? Well, welcome to my life," she says with a bitter laugh.
Ange is taken aback for a moment, but keeps her hand on Daisy's back. "Um. Will you be alright? can you pay him?"
"Yeah, I'll get the money, somehow."
"Oh. Well, if you need to delay my pay ..."
Daisy frowns and rises up off the table. "Don't you dare go there Ange le Carré! I can pay him and you, alright? Besides, I don't pay you directly. I pay your wage plus a fee to the agency, remember? If I don't pay you they pull you out, so that's no option."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Don't worry about it. I've had that rat fink on my back for years now, and never missed more than 2, maybe 3 payments in a row. At most. He knows I'm good for it, so he's just posturing."
"I see."
"Now, finish with the tables and do dishes."
"Yes ma'am."
Teatime today is unusually busy, and Ange and Daisy spend every minute brewing coffee and tea, buttering bread, and running orders out to tables.
The students from Queen's Mayfair are especially distinctive due to their black and white uniforms. Most are around Ange's age, or a year or two younger.
At one table sit a trio of girls that barely make eye contact with Ange as she brings out their order.
"One Espresso."
None of the girls acknowledge her, and Ange sets the mug down in front of the one with moss-green hair, partly pulled into a tight bun on the side of her head. She scowls at it.
"I ordered Lapsang souchong,"
"Sorry, ma'am," Ange says. She places the mug of richly scented tea in front of that girl, and moves the espresso to the brunette with a long twin-tail hair style.
"Ugh, coffee?"
"I apologize, did you have the Earl Grey?"
"That was mine," the final girl, whose black hair is adorned with a blue ribbon attached to a false flower, says in an exasperated tone.
"Oh. Right, of course."
She sets it in front of that girl, and then looks uncertainly at the espresso. "Whose was this?"
"Not any of ours, clearly!" the black-haired girl says.
"Apologies, I have it noted .…"
"You are wrong!" twin-tails says sharply.
"Oh. Again, I apologize. What did you want?"
"Must I repeat myself?"
"Such horrid service this place has now," the black-haired girl says.
"Indeed, I wonder whyever we continue to come here," the green-haired girl says.
Ange takes a deep breath, to control her emotions. She's experienced this before, and these girls are far from the rudest she's encountered.
"I do sincerely apologize. I have incorrectly noted your order. I will happily bring out your correct drink, but I do need to know what you wanted."
"Is there a problem here?" Daisy asks, coming over to the table and setting a hand on Ange's back.
"Good heavens, yes!" the black-haired girl exclaims. "This girl is singularly rude and incompetent. Look, she's given me my friend's Earl Grey tea!"
The twin-tailed girl indignantly takes the mug.
"And she refuses to give me my espresso," the girl continues.
Ange takes in a very deep breath, and calmly as she can, places the mug of coffee in front of her.
"I see," Daisy says. "Well, d'you all have your orders correct now?"
The three girls look carefully at the mugs, and they all nod.
"Hm. Yes, I do believe so," the dark-haired girl says. "It is simply appalling that we must have you, the hard-working owner of this fine café, take time out of your busy day to correct the gross incompetence of this ... girl."
"Well, it's all settled now. Ange, see to the next order please."
"Yes ma'am," she says in a controlled tone.
As she and Daisy turn and walk off, she hears the girls giggle.
"Goodness Lily, I did believe she was about to have a fit!"
Ange clenches her fists, but Daisy's hand on her back keeps her from doing anything rash.
She does mess up the next order, delivering two espressos to customers that had wanted tea, and then gives cheesecake to a woman who had ordered apple cobbler. After correcting her mistakes, Ange retreats to the back room, sits down at the wooden table, and buries her face in her hands.
She hears the door to the café open, and feels Daisy's hand on her shoulder.
"You alright?"
"No," Ange says.
"Look, you can't let little things like that get to you."
"I know," Ange sighs. "They were lying."
"I know that."
"You ought to have called them on it!"
"Then they'd never come back here."
Ange turns a heavy frown to Daisy. "You say that as though it'd be a bad thing."
"Look, Academy students come here a lot. They talk about this place, so word gets around. I kick those girls out, and suddenly word gets around that I'm rude and surly."
Ange sighs. "It's unfair."
"Yeah, it is. You've done this job before though, so you know how it is."
Ange nods, slowly.
"Good. Now, anyone lays a hand on you, whether they aim to hurt or grope or whatever, feel free to bloody their nose, and I won't care at that point if they never come back. But just words? However vicious they may be, you just have to tough that out."
"I know," Ange repeats. "I shall strive to be better."
"Do that," Daisy says seriously.
After the busy, stressful teatime dies down, Daisy closes the café early. it is half past six when she closes the shutter and locks the door. they take their time cleaning and readying the next mornings bread and pastries.
"I'll go get us a hot meal. Pick a flavor of booze and get it opened up."
Ange nods with a sigh.
Daisy tosses her apron in the laundry, and is out the door. Ange goes through the café to make sure everything is in order. The lights and oven are off, and the delivery door is locked. She heads on out, locking the door behind her.
She goes to the flat, turns on the gaslight in the living room, then strips out of her clothes, changing into her ill fitting shorts and blouse. Barefoot, she pads back to the living room, grabs a bottle of what is labeled Bourbon, and sets it on the coffee table, with two clean glasses.
A while later, Daisy returns carrying two large paper sacks. she sets them down on the table, and nods approvingly at the drink selection.
"Bourbon. That's cheap but strong. Good booze to get drunk with."
Ange shrugs.
Daisy sighs, and pulls out meat pies and baked potatoes for both of them, then pours out generous glasses of alcohol.
"Cheers," she says, raising her glass.
"Cheers," Ange answers, tapping their glasses together.
They eat in silence. Once the food is gone, and both are sipping on their second glass of booze, Ange sighs heavily.
"What a rotten day," she grumbles.
"It happens," Daisy says. "You'll have worse days. Days when you completely screw up, and make a customer mad at you for real. Today's mistakes didn't make anyone mad."
"You will always take the customer's side though. Even if I am correct and they are lying."
"A mad customer stops being a customer. You've been a waitress before, so you ought to know that."
Ange nods slowly, and takes a long drink.
"Unless you, like, poison someone? I'll forgive and forget as long as you don't make an ass of yourself. I'll expect the same from you. Alright?"
Ange nods.
"Good. Tomorrow is laundry day, so anything you want washed, get it ready."
"Alright. When do we do laundry?"
"We don't. I have a contract with a laundry mill. They send a girl by to pick it up, and then they drop it off clean and pressed that evening."
"Oh."
"We'll work a full day tomorrow, then I figure the next day I can keep the place closed. I'll put up a notice tomorrow morning so that delightful couple that always comes first thing know not to come in two days time."
"Alright. Will we go shopping then?"
"Yes, exactly. You need new clothes. That blouse looks about ready to burst."
Ange blushes, and shrugs. "its all I have, other than the dress."
"I know. Don't worry about the cost, either. Consider it an early performance bonus. alright?"
"Um, alright."
"Good. You want more booze?"
"I ... don't think I'd be able to function tomorrow if I had more."
"Fair enough. Ange?"
"Yes, Daisy?"
"You are doing very well. I am proud of you."
Ange's cheeks turn pink, and a shy smile crosses her face. "Thank you"
"I mean it. Now finish that drink and get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow."
In the morning, Ange wakes up with a headache. She grumbles, but forces herself out of bed. Daisy's alarm doesn't startle her this time, and when she stumbles out into the hallway, Daisy is wearing a purple pyjama top.
"Morning," Ange yawns.
"Morning, kid. How d'you feel?"
"Like my head is being used for target practice."
"Yeah, the downside of cheap, strong booze. The shower will help, and coffee should clear it. If not, I have headache powder you can take."
"Thanks."
Ange feels better after the shower, and though she still feels pressure against her forehead and temples, she is fairly sure coffee will take care of it. They spend a little more time today before going down to the café, shoving dirty clothing and linen into a large cloth sack.
The General greets them both today as though Ange had been there the entire time. The sense of continuity she felt earlier begins to return, and she is smiling by the time they begin their morning routine.
The ringing of the bell at the delivery door takes Ange by surprise, even though by rights it shouldn't. it is early morning yet, well before opening time. Daisy opens the delivery door, and a young woman, maybe a year or two older than Daisy, stands beside a steam powered lorry.
"Morning Marilla," Daisy says with a smile.
The woman has dark hair and pale, freckled skin. She smiles in return. "Morning, Daisy. Morning," she adds, smiling at Ange.
"This is my new girl, Ange le Carré."
"Nice to meet you," Ange says.
"Pleasure."
"You'll find a few more items in there. The kid's staying with me for a bit, til she gets on her feet."
Marilla nods, apparently unfazed. She hefts the laundry sack over her shoulder. "This everything?"
"Yeah"
"Right. I'll be back this evening."
"Thanks Marilla. You want anything?"
"No, I'm fine for now. I'll probably be back when I've a break today."
"See you then."
She walks back out to the lorry and tosses the cloth sack into the open back of the lorry, along with dozens of others that, to Ange's eyes, are identical. She wonders how anyone can tell them apart.
A little before noon, Marilla comes back. She has a little cluster of girls with her, and they all enter the café.
"Good morning," Ange says with a smile. "Welcome to café MacBean. How may I help you?"
"Oh, good morning. Ange, wasn't it?"
She smiles. "That's right."
"Girls, she's new but I have a good feeling about her. Order what you'd like, as usual."
The youngest two girls, brunettes who appear to be twins, smile shyly at Ange as they walk over to the display cabinet.
"Oh, that looks so good!"
"It does, it does! Oh, but I adore red velvet cake!"
"Oh, I do too. Whatever will we do?"
Ange grins at them, and nods at the older girls who walk up to the counter. One has blonde hair and wire-framed glasses. The other is pudgy with shoulder length brown hair. Both smile at Ange, though she can tell the girl with glasses is somewhat nervous.
"What would you like? Tea or coffee? We've many varieties of tea to choose from."
"Um," the girl with glasses says, looking at the chalkboard behind her. It lists the many blends of tea they offer along with prices. "Um, Darjeeling, with honey and milk."
Ange nods. "Good choice. Ma'am?"
"Bread!" the other girl says.
"Oh, of course. Would you like butter or marmalade?"
"No. Just bread."
Ange blinks, and Marilla laughs.
"She always orders a plain loaf of bread, then carries it around with her half the day."
"I see," Ange says slowly. "Well, I suppose that's fine."
The girl nods with a content smile.
"Would you like any tea, though?"
"Oh, sure. Just, um, black tea I guess."
"Alright. Girls?"
The twins look up at her with grins. "A slice of red velvet cake and one of those ring thingies."
"Oh, a doughnut? Chocolate or cinnamon sugar?"
"Chocolate. But ... why is it called a dough nut?"
The other shrugs. "We'll take one anyway."
"Just one?"
"Sure, we're gonna share it, and the slice of cake!"
"That's fine," Ange nods. "Anything to drink?"
"Black tea?" one asks.
"Yes, black tea," the other nods.
"Ma'am?"
"Espresso please," Marilla orders, "and a doughnut for me as well."
"Oh, I'll have a doughnut also," the girl with glasses says.
"Coming right up, then."
Ange walks back to the kitchen, where Daisy is baking bread.
"One Darjeeling, ordered with honey and milk, and three black teas. Oh, and ... well, a loaf of bread."
Daisy grins. "Marilla's girls are here?"
Ange nods with a smile. "That they are."
"You feel up to making espresso?"
"I did this morning."
"And you did alright, but that was just for us."
"I'll be fine."
Daisy nods, and Ange returns to the café. She grinds some coffee, and notices with mixed amusement and nervousness that all of the four younger girls are watching with wide-eyed fascination. She smiles and winks at them, making the younger two giggle. Marilla stands to one side, watching the younger girls as much as Ange.
She tamps the grounds into the cylinder, and places a mug under the spigot. It's not very difficult, though Ange doesn't have the flashy moves that Daisy has. In a few minutes' time, she sets the steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee in front of Marilla.
The younger two girls applaud, and the older two smile.
"Not bad," Marilla says with a nod.
Daisy comes out a moment later, with the mugs of tea and a loaf of bread in a brown paper sack. As Daisy takes money from Marilla, Ange opens the back of the display case and takes out a slice of red velvet cake, places chocolate doughnuts on plates, and places two spoons on the plate with the cake.
The five take their food and drink to a table, and Ange watches with a growing smile as they eat with obvious delight.
Daisy pats her shoulder. "That right there? That's why I opened this café."
That evening, they spend an extra few moments stacking the freshly-laundered aprons on a shelf in the café's back room. They replace the dirty washcloths with clean ones, then take their personal laundry upstairs.
After putting the warm, clean clothes away they relax together on the sofa.
"So, you've been here three days. What d'you think?"
"Hm. Well, I've been bullied and yelled at. I spilled an espresso today and had to make a fresh one for the customer. And however many times you say it's fine, I can't but wonder if this place won't be repossessed out from under us. That said, the smiles of those girls today?"
"Yeah," Daisy nods.
Ange's smile widens. "So I suppose it's good, in the balance."
"Glad to hear it. So, tomorrow we're going shopping. I told you before, but I will say it again: it'll be my treat, and we'll call it a performance bonus."
"I suppose that's fine."
"Plan on getting at least one new dress, maybe a blouse and skirt. Nothing too fancy, just so you don't have to keep wearing that same dress every day."
"Right."
"Then, if you're up for it, we can hit the pub."
"Oh."
"I don't mind opening later the following morning if it comes to it."
"I doubt that will be necessary."
Daisy grins. "Never know, might meet someone cute."
Ange shrugs, her cheeks turning red. "I doubt that."
