The Way It Never Was Read Online Free PDF Page A

for fear you incite one of his frowns. If I was organised enough to have index cards with my script written on them when having to converse with Paolo, believe me I would.
    Paulo is second generation Italian and must be in his late forties. He bought the Globe a few years ago – and what a nice surprise it was for me too, coming back from living in Australia to find somewhere that had a touch of Antipodean about it. The year I left, it was an entirely different story as Broadstairs had just one coffee place that was only popular as there was nowhere else to go. Luckily, we now have the Globe and I can’t imagine the town without it.
    The only thing is – and it’s a very minor drawback – there may be an abundance of food and nice magazines but I wish I could say the same for the customers. The café is quiet – very quiet – and I’ve long since worked out why. Paolo is pretty rude. I don’t say this lightly as I’m used to the whole terrifying people thing, but he’s up there with the best of them. The other permanent fixture is equally obnoxious – Paolo’s wife Paula who swans in several times a day with their toddler son who goes by the imaginative name of Paolo Junior, or ‘PJ’ as he’s known. PJ is in desperate need of a haircut as he’s always getting mistaken for a girl. He also needs to learn the meaning of the word ‘no’. Like her husband, Paula doesn’t do niceties. Worse still, she is denial about her true bra size, sporting four boobs and designer sunglasses that should not be worn inside. Today, she has decided to put the little boy down onto the floor, in the hope he’ll stop trying to push all the food off the counter, only to then walk behind it and help herself to a piece of cake. Shoving it in her mouth, Paula then gives me a haughty look, as though to say, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ Needless to say, our relationship hasn’t really evolved as I along with the rest of the general public, know my place.
    As with all socially inept people in the service industries, family man Paolo uses this line of business to try and prove to himself that even his handicap in the interpersonal skills department can be turned into profit. But with the exception of the summer tourists, the café is never busy. Only faithful regulars come, as they know what I know – Paolo totally understands what a good café looks like. Yes, he may greet the world with a face like a slapped arse and offend people to the point of bankrupting his business, but just when you think he’s the biggest arsehole to walk the planet, he’ll make you the best coffee and all will be forgiven. That’s why a few people continue to sit in this environment; thick-skinned ones like me.
    The Globe café’s other owner is my great friend Liv, who also happens to be rather pregnant.
    ‘Hey Katie Kate! Whatcha doing here at this time?’ she shouts over in her Canadian accent, waddling towards the kitchen with four plates precariously balanced up her arms.
    ‘I’ll fill you in when you’ve not got your hands full,’ I say as casually as possible. Looking around me at all the empty tables, I decide to go for my favourite one on the decking outside. Despite being early spring, the sun is beating down today.
    ‘So, what’s happening dude?’ asks Liv a little later on, walking towards me and giving me a big hug – well, as big as you can do when you are starting to look like you won’t be dancing to Y.M.C.A for much longer.
    Holding onto her bump, she eases herself down into the seat opposite me. ‘I just fell asleep in my lunch – I’m that tired,’ she sighs. ‘Woke up with dressed rocket all over my face.’ I still can’t believe Liv is nearly at the due date now – to be honest I lost track after week 22. All I know is that this pregnancy seems to be going on forever. Right now, she is seriously ‘blooming’, or as some might say, ‘bloody enormous’.
    Just as I’m about to ask how negotiating