He didn't expect the boy to actually come and start working. In fact he was surprised to see him approaching the shop on the street on the next morning. He wore black jeans this time, the same Converse shoes and the jacket, zipped up to his chin. Arthur saw he was carrying a backpack, so hopefully he had his clothes there.
He himself was waiting for the truck to come and give him the ware, and for that he wore the apron and the dark blue jeans with training shoes. Of course, just like every day he had a white shirt on with black tie, and a knitted vest on the top. It wasn't so significant.
The boy, namely Alfred trotted to him and stopped to shake hands with him although Arthur didn't look up on his face. They were waiting in silence for some minutes until the American couldn't hold back any longer.
"This is my first day at a bakery."
Mr. Obvious. He didn't move at all as he answered.
"You should change your clothes first. Go in, and behind the counter on the left is the change room with the toilet too. And this is not a bakery since we do not produce the ware. We are just a shop which sells the products."
Alfred just stood there, almost like digesting the words but in the end he just left.
"I'll be right back."
Arthur almost slapped on his forehead just when the boy closed the door behind himself. Oh right... he forgot to bring down the other apron from the flat...
Arthur felt his mouth dry at the thought. He had only one other apron, which belonged to Francis... he couldn't just give it to this guy, couldn't he... it was... his apron, and... no one wore it since that day. For sure, this useless boy didn't carry one for himself... probably his mother's apron was pink or full of flowers.
Approximately five minutes later the truck was nowhere and Arthur checked his wristwatch again. It should have arrived by now. It's not that easy to pack out and get done with the paperwork in two minutes...
"So? What are we doing now?" Alfred appeared again by his side but Arthur didn't give much importance to it, something else popped into his mind.
"Did you wash your hands?"
The boy blinked and slowly shook his head in confusion, but before Arthur could say something he stepped back in the shop again. Gosh... he had to teach every tiny little thing to this guy...
It took around half a minute until Alfred appeared again; wiping his hands in a white paper towel, and forced the small white gloves on which meant to maintain the hygiene. "So... again? What are we doing now?"
"We are waiting for the truck to come and carry the ware. Then we'll pack the boxes down, give the driver the ones we had yesterday, count and check everything, sign the papers and goodbye. Usually this takes around five minutes because every morning we are in a rush. You'll have to pay attention too. Count fast and do not miss."
The boy was definitely taller than Arthur, at least with 3 inches. Just as he stood beside his new boss, Alfred was intimidating him and he had to step away. The American looked at him with the mixture of hurt and confusion in his eyes that Arthur saw only from the corner of his glance. He wasn't supposed to stand close to his employee anyway.
The truck turned in the corner and the haste began... he told Alfred to open the door wide, then come back and wait for the orders...
It was an enormous relief that he didn't have to climb the truck himself and give the boxes down to the driver who didn't give a damn about the commodities, the man just tossed the boxes on the ground and perhaps he had better things to think about, than placing boxes at five in the morning. It was Alfred who handed them now to him, and Arthur had put them safely on the ground, careful not to hurt any of the fresh loaves.
They were done in a very short time and Alfred quickly understood the situation; he began to count the boxes of baguettes and the three types of bread while Arthur checked the cookies and sweets. The driver stood silent beside his vehicle and handed the papers to the shorter blond, who signed the necessary places, rated the ware and handed back the pad.
"Thank you for your work." He said, and the driver nodded before driving away. He never said anything to him for a long time although he could see the momentary resentment on Alfred's face, who probably expected the man to say something in return.
When the truck was already on its way, Arthur let out a long, relieved sigh and let the calmness fill him, while Alfred tilted his head left and asked. "And now?"
"We pack in and start sorting."
"Right."
He wasn't ready for that... maybe this decision was made too fast and he should have just send the boy on his way... back then, Francis explained him a lot of things about having a bakery shop and now... he tried to do the same... but it was so easy for Francis, he was a fanatic of baking and serving people. For him, having this shop was the Eden which he shared with Arthur... and now, Arthur tried to introduce this world to a stranger...
. . .
Alfred was an intelligent man and he learned quickly. He could differentiate the types of flour in ten minutes and the seeds in twenty. He learned the orders on the shelves and for that, Arthur sketched him a small note, which he glued beside the cash register so the boy could help himself in cases of confusion. He tried to explain Alfred the way one treats two fresh baguettes and a milk-loaf, what it means to get one tommy and a milksop. By the opening hour, the American was almost ready to start his first day in the front line.
"Just be patient. They expect you to give them their essential material of food. If you touch one of these..." Now he pointed at the sweet, still warm scones. "Do it with respect. Your hands always have to wear gloves. Besides that, while you are here, your hands must be clean at all times, no matter what. I clean the cash register at least five times a day, sometimes up to ten."
Alfred gave him a slow nod that he understood every word he has heard.
"Here... let's start with the packs. I have costumers who come by every day and we agreed that if I make them packages, they leave me two more dollars."
"Wow, that's cool... you're doing this alone?"
Arthur's motions stopped for a second and he took a deep breath. "Yes."
The boy's expression told him that he was being amazed and this was alright. The Englishman collected the paper bags and started sorting the needed pieces of the ware before doing anything instead and the boy merely stood beside him, looking for something to do. The small space in the shop didn't show many opportunities for him, though Arthur could have said some tasks to him, he stayed in silence. Without paying attention he finished the bags and brought them behind the counter to lean them in a basket.
The atmosphere started to tense even though none of them had said a word which meant harm. Arthur continued his routine and Alfred followed him, but at one point, no one blamed him for asking.
"Can I help somehow?"
"Why are you here?"
"I want to help."
"Why?"
"Good question."
Arthur frowned and shook his head. He was lost in this case. Did someone send this guy? Why would someone want to work in a bakery shop? Waking up early, working till the evening... having so few days out, almost zero holidays if you are the owner...
"Do you see well?"
The question confused him even more so he looked towards the guy, who leaned against the doorway which leads in the storage. "What?"
"I mean... do you see through your eyebrows?"
If this question would have been asked around two years ago, Arthur would throw the entire counter at the man and chase him out from the shop. He would yell something rude and probably make him swear, not to come near the street ever again.
"I do. Could you sweep in front of the shop before we open?"
"Oh. Yea, sure."
Once Alfred was outside, Arthur let out a sigh and again, turned to check the boxes. All in all, it was his shop now and he had to fill the baskets with the needed stuff. Alfred wasn't trained for that, it was obvious. Maybe he didn't even know how to use the cash register machine or how to take requests for the afternoon. Soon, in fifteen minutes they will open and Arthur felt a bit excited about the day. Will he get along with Alfred...?
Besides, he never taught anyone about having a shop like this... he had to explain a lot of things, teach the routine and the small tricks to make life easier in that tiny space... oh really.
He called out to ask him get the mails from the postman, who was expected to come exactly at six, at the time when the shop opens. He didn't want to care about the bills and the mails from abroad; he knew that the usual costumers will make their way through the door, asking for their ready-made packs.
Just as predicted, he though, Mr. Johnson who worked three shifts in the factory... a couple of minutes later, Mr. Gembsby, Mr. Honda, Mr. Jamison, Mrs. Balati, Mr. Poloskai... the list could go on, and until the last package was handed, Arthur sat down behind the counter and ticked the day in the calendar. This time, no one asked for changes in the orders and this meant only, that the quality was good enough.
Alfred has been watching him the whole day. He was like a shadow or some kind of a police dog, always behind him with a couple of steps, always ready to climb up the stairs, the ladder or to handle him something from the higher shelves, so he didn't have to pull the chair. He cleaned the floor after the morning rush was over and filled the baskets without asking for it.
At noon he asked for ten minutes, and returned with a menu from the closest McDonalds, and although as Arthur had looked around last time, they were in a bakery shop, but well. According to the European Union laws, he was supposed to give the boy one bun or two, but they weren't in the European Union. They were in the United States, and since Arthur have never had employees before, he didn't know the rules concerning them.
During the silent afternoon hours Alfred was playing games on his cell-phone, while Arthur was knitting his gloves for the winter. He didn't say a word about that. When someone came in the shop, Alfred almost jumped up and wanted to serve the person, but seeing the unknown, strange person in Arthur's shop, most of the people were a bit intimidated by his enthusiasm. But it was alright... they asked for Arthur, and he kindly responded to their call from behind the counter.
The first day in the bakery shop was smooth and silent. Maybe this wasn't that unusual, Arthur thought when he flipped the Open sign to Closed. He looked back on Alfred, who was packing out the boxes from the morning, wiped them with the old grey towel and handed them to him. The truck was on its way already.
"So...? How was it?"
Right... it would be nice to tell him his performance, and Arthur hummed. "Not bad."
"Thank you." He could hear in the boy's voice that he was smiling. He always did that... " Can you tell me some words... you know, to improve?"
Arthur slowly shook his head and entwined his fingers behind his back, before looking towards the American. This whole thing was getting suspicious and strange...
"Why do you want to work here?"
"Well... because I'm unemployed, and I need a workplace?"
Ah... so that was it. He really needed to employ this person, do the paperwork, pay the taxes after him and pay him money for helping out...? but after a year of struggling he was tired of doing all these things alone. It was nice to have Alfred to climb ladders. The view from beneath was not the worst. In fact, the income of the shop could bear one more person and accidentally at the moment he had an applicant for a support member.
"Alright... tomorrow bring your papers. We're going to do the licenes."
"Really?!" The American nearly shouted beside him, Arthur jumped in surprise and stared at the happy young man, whose eyes were looking back at him, his fists at his chests in excitement.
"Yes, but please stay calm." He said before clearing his throat and quickly stepped away from Alfred to pick up the same posture he had before. Noisy, immature American.
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I'm excited. Gosh... thank you. You're saving my life. Man, my girlfriend will be so proud."
Of course he had a girlfriend. He was sexy and intelligent after all... wait. Well, yes he was, and? These guys always have girlfriend. A cute one, with probably long blond hair, nice blue eyes, a cheerleader type. A guy like Alfred was always doing something crazy, something unusual that affects other people. Well... not someone like Arthur.
A/N: Hi there :3 First I would like to say thank you to everyone who reads this story. I hope you'll like it. Thank you for your lovely reviews, they helped me a lot in continuing. :3
Please tell me your opinions and suggestions about the story, and of course if you find something ungrammatical please do tell me! I don't have a beta. :3
